With Enemies Like These, He Must Be Good

You look at Gregg Jefferies and you realize why the veteran players on the Mets couldn’t stand him; there was something about him that ticked them off.

He hit. He ran. He tried. He took defeat personally. He was young (21). He never smiled. He was outspoken. Worst of all, he was good. He had this tunnel vision where baseball was concerned; he concentrated on it to the exclusion of all else. When he looked at film at night it, it didn’t have any girls in it, simply bats and balls and pitchers and hitters. Rated PG.

You could see where a guy like this would be insufferable. To the New York Mets. Why, he was even polite to reporters who crowded around his locker! I mean, who did he think he was--Ty Cobb?

It’s a matter of record Pete Rose got the same kind of resentful treatment from his Red teammates when he first came up. After all, “Charlie Hustle” was originally a derisive term.

They did Jefferies a favor. They got him run out of town where he could be himself. And being himself in the case of Gregory Scott Jefferies on a ballfield is a great thing to be.

You ever look at co-workers and wish you had their future?

Well, when Baseball looks at Gregory Scott Jefferies, it sees a guy who is a born hitter, who has no flaws at the plate. He has this lovely compact swing, fluid follow through. He is second in the league in batting average, .345 at the moment. He can run. He is second in the league in stolen bases. He has power, 15 home runs to date. He hits equally well from both sides of the plate, .350 right-handed and .342 left-handed, so he can’t be platooned.

He strikes out only once every 23 times at bat, second-toughest in the league to fan. He has 793 hits, 151 doubles and has scored nearly 800 runs.

And he turned 26 this month.

Would you like to be able to buy stock in Gregg Jefferies Inc.?

The central fact is, Jefferies could always hit a baseball. It was catching it and throwing it that gave him fits.

Because he’s only 5 feet 10, they thought he had to be an infielder--a third baseman, usually. He wasn’t exactly a liability, but he wasn’t Pie Traynor, either. The balls he threw sometimes seemed to have a life of their own. Either that, or he had perfected a natural knuckleball.

You might remember another born hitter who had this problem. Fellow by the name of Steve Garvey. Garvey had trouble keeping the ball in the ballpark--with his bat and with his arm. The Dodgers solved this by moving him to first base, where he became one of the best and, freed from spot playing, became a guy who got an annual 200 hits, not counting those in World Series and All-Star games.

The St. Louis Cardinals, who acquired Jefferies from Kansas City this spring, are employing the same strategy. With apparently the same results.

He seems to have found a home at first base, too. He can concentrate on pitchers, not throwing.

He came to the plate in the 10th inning at Dodger Stadium on Friday night with the score 2-2, the bases empty. And the pitcher made a mistake. He threw him an inside fastball. Jefferies pounced, and when last seen, the ball was bouncing around the Cardinal bullpen, a winning home run.

Before the game, Jefferies reflected on the bounces his career has taken. On his lack of acceptance by the veteran Mets. “That was exaggerated. They made it out like I had no friends on the team. I had friends. Gary Carter was my friend. So was Dwight Gooden, Wally Whitehurst--lots of guys. Baseball was all I had then and I overemphasized its importance. Now, I have a wife and a son, and I realize there’s something to life besides going three for four.”

One result is, he goes three for four with a lot more frequency.

Where was his base-stealing talent? “Well, on the Mets they had Darryl Strawberry, Howard Johnson and those home run hitters coming up. They didn’t want you to risk an out in front of a potential home run. One year, I only had 13 attempts. But I ran the 40 in 4.5, and I ran the 60 in 6.5. I ran track in high school. I stole 43 bases in the minors one year. Over here, they let me run, and I got 37 steals already.”

It is not likely Jefferies will ever again get a silent treatment in a clubhouse. He is on his way to getting respect the old-fashioned way--he earned it with his bat and his feet, like Rose, like Ruth, for all of that.

Not that he has mellowed into an office-seeker. His manager, Joe Torre, a lifetime .297 hitter and a former batting champion himself at .363, puts it in perspective. “We needed someone on this club to throw a helmet, to care when they made an out. And we knew Jefferies would care.

“You know, he got the bad end of the stick in New York. Everybody should go through New York at some time in their careers. It’s good for you. You got to feel loved by your peers to play your best. And remember he was 20 years old, and people fail to realize you’re only 20 years old sometimes.”

Now a ripe old 26, Jefferies agrees. He recognizes debts. “When I left the Mets to go to Kansas City, George Brett taught me more about hitting than I ever had.” His compact stroke is the envy of a lot of hitters in the league, says his coach, Chris Chambliss.

Does he have any goals? Getting 3,000 hits? Scoring 2,000 runs? A 200-hit season? A .400 average?

Jefferies shakes his head. “No. I know it sounds like a cliche, but I really want to win. I’m relaxed out there now. People come up and say, ‘Wow! You have all these statistics, you would think you were 29 years old. You’re ahead of yourself!’ But, honestly, I remember being in the playoffs in 1988, and there is no feeling like it. (He batted .333 in that playoff with nine hits, two doubles, four walks and no strikeouts.) That’s what the game is all about. That’s where the fun is. I want to win. I always wanted to win.”

Pete Rose couldn’t have said it any better.