Mendoza Has His Reputation on the Line Every Single Season : Baseball: Palm Springs manager’s batting average was the inspiration for the zone that signals mediocrity in the majors.

Maybe things would be different if it referred to clothing, say something in silk. . . . The Mendoza Line--Just because you’re dressed comfortably doesn’t mean you can’t be dressed elegantly.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he had been a mortgage broker. . . .

The Mendoza Line--You, too, can reach out and seize a piece of the American dream.

Shoes? Yeah, that’s it. . . .

Just ‘Doza it, Man.

But the Mendoza Line is a baseball term that has taken root and flourished in the past decade, and it is about as tasteful in major league clubhouses as cactus needles.

“Yeah, who’s that guy, Mario Mendoza or whatever?” Kansas City outfielder Brian McRae said this season. “I think he played with the Pirates. Yeah, I’m familiar with it. I’m usually hitting under it this time of year.”

The Mendoza Line, as much a part of baseball lexicon today as “Texas Leaguer” is that invisible mark slumped across a .200 batting average. Hit above .200 and you might stay in the majors. Hit below .200 and you’re staring up at the Mendoza Line, probably on your way to Peoria.

Or Palm Springs, as the case may be.

Today, Mario Mendoza manages the Angels’ Class-A affiliate in Palm Springs and would simply like to know why, of all the Punch-and-Judy-hitting infielders bound together in the pages of the Baseball Encyclopedia, his name had to be picked for infamy.

Truth be known, Mendoza really didn’t hit .200 anyway. In nine major league seasons, from 1974-82, Mendoza compiled a lifetime batting average of--you can look it up--.215.

So there.

“I just hope you don’t want to talk about the Mendoza Line,” was how Mendoza greeted a visitor in Palm Springs last week. “That . . . guy (Chris Berman on ESPN) is always bringing it up. I don’t know why. A lot of ballplayers didn’t hit .215, which is what I hit. A lot of guys who played didn’t hit that.

“I got sick and tired of hearing about the Mendoza Line. Kids write to me about it. . . . Whenever a guy is hitting below .200, my name comes up.”

He has been watching television in his native Mexico, late at night, with his wife, kids, parents, friends, you name it, and he has heard it.

He has been reading the sports pages and nearly spilled his coffee when he unexpectedly came across references to it.

He has received letters from adults and kids about it, and he has sat in his office in Palm Springs and heard his players discussing it in the clubhouse.

Then there was opening day in Palm Springs last season, his first as a professional manager in a major league organization, when he was returning to the dugout after exchanging lineup cards at home plate. A fan ran down to the front row and began taunting him about it.

Mendoza made an obscene gesture and told the fan to get lost.

“Sometimes I don’t want to be rude, but people keep making fun of it,” Mendoza said. “I played eight years and some change in the big leagues. A lot of players in the minors never made it that far.”

Such as one of Mendoza’s minor league players a couple of years ago who made a crack about the Mendoza Line during spring training.

“I told him, ‘OK, you’re making fun of the Mendoza Line, huh?” said Mendoza. “You have five years in the minors in A ball. It took me only 3 1/2 years in the minors before making the big leagues.

“He never said anything more. He understood.”

He also was released shortly thereafter.

How would you like it if thousands of people in your business despised any association with your name? Pavlov had that reaction thing going with his dog? You should see what major leaguers do at the mere mention of the term. Noses wrinkle. Eyes slant. Lips curl and brows furrow.

“I don’t know anything about (the Mendoza Line) and I don’t care to, to tell you the truth,” said San Diego Padre outfielder Tony Gwynn, who has won four National League batting titles. “I don’t remember hearing about him as a player, but I’ve heard about that line.

“That’s not a tag I’d be happy with. As long as there is baseball, there are guys going to be at the Mendoza Line. And he’ll be associated with it.”

That’s what scares Mendoza.

“I didn’t mind at first,” Mendoza said. “But they keep rubbing it in and rubbing it in. They never mention that (his career average is above .200). That’s one of the things people don’t know.”

Mendoza, a slick-fielding shortstop, broke in with Pittsburgh in 1974, played in 91 games and even started three games in the National League championship series that year. He was one for five against the Dodgers, .200 on the button.

He played for Pittsburgh as a utility infielder the next four years, working at second base, third and shortstop and never hitting above .221.

He was traded to Seattle in 1979, where he played two seasons. The summer of 1979 was perhaps his most memorable because Manager Darrell Johnson named him as the team’s starting shortstop.

Although he played in 148 games, he had only 373 at-bats. The guy started and yet averaged less than three at-bats a night.

“They were pinch-hitting for me in the third and fourth innings,” said Mendoza, who batted .198 that year. “Darrell Johnson, he was a good man, but one night he pinch-hit for me with the bases loaded in the second inning. Leon Roberts hit into a double play.

“I was really upset. It messed my mind up.”

Perhaps if he had started using a heavier bat earlier in his career, major leaguers today wouldn’t shudder whenever they hear his name. He discarded his bat in 1980--34 length, 32 ounces--and borrowed teammate Bruce Bochte’s heavier model--35 length, 33 ounces. He followed with his two best offensive years--.245 for Seattle in 1980 and .231 for Texas in 1981.

“What I did wrong was I had a lighter bat,” Mendoza said. “It made me try to pull the ball all the time. When I got older, I realized I should hit the ball the opposite way and up the middle.”

But it only mattered for a short time. After playing in only 12 games in 1982, he was released by the Rangers.

Mendoza was batting .118.

“The last two years (1980 and 1981) I had hit better,” Mendoza said. “I even asked (then Texas Manager) Don Zimmer, what was wrong? Why were they dogging me like that? He had no answer.

“When I came to Texas in 1981, Don Zimmer said, ‘If you hit .220, that’s OK with me.’ I was supposed to be the best shortstop they ever had.”

Mendoza was only 31 and had two years left on his contract when he was released. He never returned to the majors.

“I still just sit and think about it,” Mendoza said. “What did I do wrong? I wish I knew.”

And now, he has to put up with smirking sportscasters bringing up his name every time some guy slumps below .200.

It all started, Mendoza says, with former teammates Bochte and Tom Paciorek. Although most people think George Brett came up with the Mendoza Line term, Mendoza said Paciorek and Bochte used to kid him about it in the Seattle clubhouse in 1979, and it took root from there.

Brett, it turns out, just made the term more popular by mentioning it to Berman around the batting cage several years ago.

“He had never heard it so he’s always given me credit,” said Brett, who has won three American League batting titles. “I can’t recall where I first heard it. It was years and years and years ago.”

The term is used so much it has turned Mendoza into a caricature. Thousands of people who have never met him roll their eyes and giggle when they hear the name. Like when the Angels first hired him three seasons ago, to be Palm Springs’ hitting coach.

There are usually only two coaches on a minor league team, and they do everything. But one is given the title pitching coach and the other. . . .

Yes, thanks to a myriad of co-conspirators, the game Mendoza loves continually tortures him.

“I wish I could make some money off of it,” Mendoza said. “When people are making fun of it, it’s not fun.”

But his managing career has gotten off to an auspicious start--Baseball America named him the California League’s top managing prospect last year--and he is thrilled to be working in the game.

And this week, now that school is out, his wife and three kids will join him for the summer, making the current outlook even brighter. Mario Jr., 14, is playing quite a bit of baseball and more importantly, Mendoza said, he is studying hard.

Mendoza paused for a minute, and smiled.

“He wants to be like me and play ball,” he said.

“But I told him, ‘You’ve got to be a better hitter, man, so you can make some money.’ ”

Mendoza’s Lines

Year Team Avg. HR RBI 1974 Pittsburgh .221 0 15 1975 Pittsburgh .180 0 2 1976 Pittsburgh .185 0 12 1977 Pittsburgh .198 0 4 1978 Pittsburgh .218 1 3 1979 Seattle .198 1 29 1980 Seattle .245 2 14 1981 Texas .231 0 22 1982 Texas .118 0 0

Lifetime

Year Avg. HR RBI 9 years .215 4 101

NL Championship Series

Year Team Avg. HR RBI 1974 Pittsburgh .200 0 1

Source: The Baseball Encyclopedia