Gwynn an Average Guy Who’s Something Special

Cite the obscure rule that contributed to his seventh National League batting title if you must, but remember that he still hit .353 last year despite a torn Achilles’ tendon.

Cite the absence of home-run power amid his mind-boggling statistics if you must, but remember that he is history on parade.

--The seven batting titles put him in position to tie Honus Wagner for second on the all-time list this year, four behind Ty Cobb’s 12.

--The 14 consecutive seasons of batting .300 or better are the sixth-longest, one season shy of Ted Williams and Rod Carew and two of Stan Musial.

--The four seasons in a row of hitting .350 or better--a .363 average in that span--are the National League’s longest since Rogers Hornsby did it for six in a row, 1920-1925.

Tony Gwynn is 36 and wants to play until he is 40.

He sat in the San Diego Padres’ spring clubhouse and said he is still not as good a hitter as he can be, but. . . .

“Nobody can do what I can do,” Gwynn said. “I’m not a boastful person, but I would challenge the critics to show me somebody who is doing what I’m doing.

“I mean, for years people have said I’m not a productive hitter and I don’t drive in runs, but to do that you have to hit the ball consistently, and I feel I do that better than anybody.

“I’ve hit .300 for 14 straight seasons and am still raising my career average. I haven’t been able to elevate my game with more home runs, as much as I’d like to, but I’m very pleased with what I’ve done. I’m still having fun, still feel I’m good at what I do and still think I can do better. I said that at 27, at 30, at 33 and I’m still saying it at 36.”

One thing is certain: Gwynn is confident he can improve on 1996, when the Achilles’ injury put him in more shoes than Imelda Marcos, sidelined him in July and prevented him from putting weight on his front (right) foot.

“I thought I was playing on a frayed Achilles’ and that at the end of the year they’d go in, trim the frayed edges, put me in a cast for a week and I’d be good as new,” he said.

“Well, they got in there and I had a bone spur, a bursa sac the size of a golf ball and a 30% tear in the Achilles’. I’ve had three knee surgeries and got up after 20 minutes ready to walk out of the hospital, but this left me down and out for six weeks.

“I didn’t have much fun this winter. It was a hard, strenuous rehab, and now I want to make it pay off. It’s my motivation.”

A .337 career hitter who bats second and is asked to respond to situations rather than supply power, Gwynn has hit .358, .394 .368 and .353 over the last four years and doesn’t know if he can improve on the .353. He is confident, however, that a sound tendon will allow him to hit the ball with greater authority and consistency.

His two-out, two-run, eighth-inning single against the Dodgers on the next-to-last day of the regular season assured the Padres of their first playoff berth since 1984. Gwynn called it “the biggest hit” of his career. But “everybody looks at the batting title and says, ‘Well, he had another good year,’ but the truth is that on an individual basis I didn’t. I wasn’t able to do what I wanted to do because of the Achilles’.”

Gwynn didn’t have the required plate appearances to qualify for the batting title, but won because an 0-for-the-four appearances he lacked still left him with a higher average than Colorado Rockies’ outfielder Ellis Burks, who hit .344. Dodger catcher Mike Piazza was third at .336.

Asked if the chance to win an eighth title and tie Wagner was on his mind, Gwynn said: “It seems to mean a lot to other people, but how many does it take before people consider you a good hitter, a consistent hitter?

“I mean, my name is already mentioned with Rod Carew, Ted Williams and Stan Musial. That’s good enough for me, but it’s like you win this many and you’ve got to keep going, you’ve got to catch Cobb. There’s enough pressure just playing. I can’t worry about that.

“Sure, come September, if I find myself in position where I could win, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be going for it, but there’s no sense worrying about it in March. Experience tells you that.

“Look at poor Mike Piazza. I battled him the last two years, and the fact he didn’t have any [titles] and I had some helped me because I didn’t worry about it. When you want that first one so bad, you press and press and press and it gets you away from what you do best. Sometimes you hope not to be in the hunt for it and let the other guys fight it out.

“I told Ellis Burks in Tucson the other day that I really felt bad how that ended up last year because he played all year, had the best year of his career, was solid as a rock and really deserved to win, and I said I was sorry but it was out of my hands, the rules of the game.

“He said not to worry about it, that he was just happy having a good year and hoped to do it again, but deep down you know he wanted that first one. I understand. I was the same way. Now I try to keep it in perspective.

“I mean, I’ve won seven titles, but what does that really mean? There was a different scenario to each, but I won only two in years when we also won the division, and that’s the ultimate, what it’s all about.”

Gwynn can’t be blamed for the Padres’ failure to win more. They have won only those two. Now he is part of a cast that has a chance to win the West title again, and Gwynn seems primed. He has lost about 15 pounds through his rehab, the Achilles’ is sound and there is no labor dispute threatening to disrupt the season, as it did in 1994, ending Gwynn’s .400 bid at .394.

In a transient era, Gwynn will start and end his career with one team. He is a bargain at $4 million, and the Padres are certain to pick up his 1998 option and offer a more lucrative extension.

Meanwhile, believing he is still not as good a hitter as he can be, Gwynn seeks the perfect swing--in mid-March.