Cut Loose This Loose Cannon

Up front, I would like to beg pardon of the Dodgers for what I am about to do, knowing that members of their organization for whom I have a high regard could find this to be both presumptuous and unpleasant. But there has been quite a bit of discussion recently about the contract of outfielder Darryl Strawberry and there is something I simply feel compelled to say.

Let it burn.

Whatever it takes, including an outright release, the Dodgers should swallow hard and divest themselves of this individual as soon as possible. Darryl Strawberry is not an evil fellow and anyone who has met him can tell you how amiable he can be. The honeymoon, however, is over. He knows it, you know it, I know it and the Dodgers know it. Better for everybody we use incompatibility as grounds and file for divorce.

Darryl is a live wire. Sparks fly whenever and wherever he is around. In the Dodgers, on the other hand, we have a dignified, gray-flannel firm that does not care to get its linen dirty at all, much less hang it out for all to see. The Dodgers do not vie for the large-print headlines or to be the top-of-the-hour story on the 5 o’clock news, the way, say, the New York Yankees do. They neither want nor need any Darryls or Reggies or Rickey Hendersons or Jose Cansecos, making a ruckus on their own.

What happens with a cannon as loose as Strawberry is that other members of the family end up taking his side, the way you would a miscreant of a cousin, no matter what he says or does. Even as considerate a gentleman as Brett Butler disembarks an airplane from the Far East and promptly accuses everyone else of making too much of Strawberry’s callous joke about the deadly fires that were scorching Southern California, whereas I wonder what Brett’s reaction would have been if some Dodger had said, “Let it crumble,” on that day San Francisco’s earth was quaking and he was carrying frightened children to safety.

But it’s not only that. It’s everything. It’s a man who can’t play baseball the way he once did. It’s a man who won’t rehabilitate himself the way others advise. It’s a man whose negligible contributions do not merit his automatically being welcomed back. It’s a man who says he wants no part of Los Angeles anymore, leaving us to cheer for someone who would rather be cheered somewhere else. It’s a man whose unpredictability has trademarked his entire career, as distinctively as a signature on a bat.

The Dodgers have no way of knowing what Strawberry will do next, and I do not believe that Peter O’Malley derives pleasure in not knowing what one of his employees will do next. I believe that even when a Dodger is falsely accused of doing or saying something, as Strawberry occasionally has been, it does not go unnoticed by O’Malley and the Dodgers that certain individuals are always being accused of doing or saying something, which can get tiresome after a while.

Unfair or not, Strawberry’s stature is such that he cuts a huge profile in town. His personality is such that, like Charles Barkley, he always seems to be in the middle of the action.

And his reputation is such that, because so many people seem so willing to believe the worst, no matter the facts, even the word of a possibly addled or drug-addicted transient is accepted over an accomplished athlete’s, as when listeners trusted every word of that hitchhiker’s hazy statement to the cops last summer. Hey, ever think someone might invent a wild story about a rich celebrity, hoping to cash in on some money?

Trouble is, if it isn’t one thing with Strawberry, it’s another. I was on his side the day--opening day--he did a number on that fan seated in the right-field stands who arguably interfered with a game-winning stroke. But I didn’t start the discussion. I just wrote down everything Darryl said afterward, then agreed with it. Nobody put words in his mouth. Nobody prompted him. Someone else, a Butler, a Barry Bonds, would have let it slide.

Darryl doesn’t go looking for trouble; he simply doesn’t know how to dodge it. He doesn’t know how to avoid busting a water cooler in San Diego, in full view of witnesses, after having a disagreement with management. He doesn’t know how to be humble in his ambitions, that claiming his next stop will be the Hall of Fame is the kind of thing few blowhards in the history of baseball have ever uttered publicly.

No single word or deed is sufficient to drop Darryl Strawberry from the Dodger roster. I cannot point to this or that and say, “Enough!” But what I can point to is this and that. And this. And that. So that when the threshold of repugnance is finally crossed, it becomes difficult to defend someone even through his statistics.

Fact is, Strawberry has not batted as high as .285 in his major league career, doesn’t have 40 total homers or even 40 doubles over his entire three-year Dodger career, and why would we expect his totals next season--even if he’s no longer hurting--to be that much greater than those of some raw rookie whose salary saved the franchise millions.

People who point to Strawberry’s skill and experience, as I suspect Manager Tom Lasorda might--Tom won’t denigrate Dodgers until they are former Dodgers--must also acknowledge that the best hitters of the last two Dodger seasons both have been low-maintenance rookies, Eric Karros and Mike Piazza. So, come on, how superior would Darryl Strawberry’s stats be over the next 162 games than, say, Billy Ashley’s? Or Henry Rodriguez’s? Or even the very competent veteran Cory Snyder’s?

Perhaps none of these people will be going to Cooperstown, but, then again, neither will Strawberry.

I know that the Dodgers are exploring various ways and means of getting something for Strawberry, as opposed to getting nothing. He has painted them into a right-field corner, however.

In this day and age of expansion-diluted baseball, one would think some club would gladly gamble on Strawberry’s presence, but these days, who can afford the price? It’s difficult enough to pay the players who do produce. Darryl Strawberry has developed into Kevin Mitchell. It isn’t so much what he’s worth in currency, but whether he’s worth the hassle.

He isn’t. Not here. Not anymore.

* STRAWBERRY: He clears special waivers without being claimed during the 72-hour period. C4

* NIXON: Switch-hitting outfielder signs two-year contract with the Red Sox. C4