Lofton on Center Stage

The thought of Kenny Lofton patrolling center field in a Dodger uniform has a real appeal. He is only 30. He bats left-handed. He steals bases. He is a Gold Glove fielder. Best of all, he is a free agent, as soon as this Atlanta Brave season is over. I wonder if Kenny would trade grits for glitz.

Picture a bitter feud between Ted Turner and Rupert Murdoch escalating, not over a merger, but over an outfielder.

It would not be the first time Los Angeles looked to a former Atlanta center fielder for help. Otis Nixon played here. So did Brett Butler. And frankly, I don’t give a darn if the Dodgers go after an old codger like Dale Murphy--who isn’t much older than Nixon or Butler, now that I think about it--as long as they find somebody who can play the 8 hole in 1998.

Lofton could be that somebody.

The slender leadoff man came to bat Wednesday, starved for a hit. Things were not going very well in his first National League postseason. He wasn’t getting on base. (Which meant, he couldn’t steal bases.) And furthermore, his fielding was off. Lofton didn’t seem to be making “plays that people have seen him make in the past.” Even a teammate (Tom Glavine) said that.

Questions were being asked, on the order of: “What’s the frequency, Kenneth?” Was a side effect from a groin pull making him pull up? Was a season-long adjustment to the National League’s parks affecting Lofton’s defense, much like adapting to the league’s pitchers had affected his offense?

To change his luck, Lofton began Game 2 against the Florida Marlins with a bunt.

Butler and Nixon would have been proud.

He plopped it perfectly, toward third base, just beyond the batter’s box dirt. Charles Johnson, catcher deluxe, tried to throw out Lofton at first base, but Charles chucked the ball into right field. As soon as the next batter tripled, the Braves had themselves a run, exactly two batters into the game.

“That was a huge plus for us,” said Manager Bobby Cox, who was happy to see his .333-hitting leadoff man of 1997 get a hit again. And it made Lofton feel happy to contribute, because, to be honest, here in the home of the Braves, some of the natives had been getting a little restless.

Lofton was taking some heat.

For finishing the season nine for 47 (.191). For making five errors. For sitting out 40 games. For being thrown out trying to steal, repeatedly. For beginning the playoffs two for 18 (.111).

“Folks expect a lot,” Lofton said.

The blockbuster--sorry, Wayne Huizenga--trade on March 25 that brought Lofton to the Braves was being examined and reexamined. It was a deal that cost this organization the services of David Justice, a pro’s pro, and Marquis Grissom, a popular Atlanta-born son. Lofton didn’t have big shoes to fill . . . he had four shoes to fill.

Everybody knew that Lofton was fast. After all, he had appeared in ESPN commercials, undergoing mock “group therapy” to the incurably quick. (Michael Johnson, an auto racer, a pizza delivery boy. . . .) Billboards eventually went up all over Atlanta, featuring Kenny’s feet, alongside words signifying the essence of speed: MACH. WARP. LOFTON.

One day, Kenny raced a rabbit.

Or tried to, anyway. A film shoot was arranged at Turner Field, in which a director planned to pose Lofton in a sprinter’s stance, alongside a bunny. Lofton agreeably assumed the position. But the bunny kept wandering away, every time the director got ready to say “Action!”

“Bunny didn’t want to run,” Lofton said later.

Neither did the new Brave center fielder, Mr. Warp Speed, it seemed after a while. For the first time in his career, Lofton failed to lead his league in stolen bases. He tapered off with 48 fewer than he stole for the Cleveland Indians last season. For reasons he can’t explain, he was gunned down 20 times.

The astoundingly fast start Lofton got off to in April had faded from memory. Adjustment? What adjustment? He hit .395. He was National League player of the week for April 14-20, because he hit .621. Lofton had five-hit games on April 14, on April 18 and on May 27. Baseball’s record for a season is four. It is shared by a few fair-to-middling hitters you might have heard of--Wee Willie Keeler, Ty Cobb, Stan Musial and Tony Gwynn.

This is the Lofton that a city like L.A. needs.

Is he inclined to make Atlanta a home? Some think not. Then again, Lofton surprised a few here, by imploring fans to chop and chant, as they did during the 1995 World Series when he and the Indians were here. Lofton recalled vividly: “The whole freakin’ stands were doing it. I thought, ‘Wow, what the hell, did they practice this? Did they get 40,000 in here for a rehearsal?’ ”

A repeat Indian-Brave battle is a possibility.

That’s why the choppers and chanters here were delighted to see Lofton do something positive Wednesday, to feel more secure that in giving up Justice and Grissom, they got the right guy. Lofton is still three for 23 in this postseason, but the postseason isn’t over.

Then comes the post-postseason.

Atlanta’s payroll is huge. Can it afford Kenny?

Who can? Turner? Murdoch?

“I can’t talk about next year, till we finish this year,” Lofton says.

OK, Kenny. L.A. will keep a light on for you.