ZERO EFFECT

By ROSS NEWHAN

Sept. 29, 1998 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

HOUSTON —

Trevor Hoffman pays attention to details. He believes in a routine that helps him prepare physically and mentally to close out wins for the San Diego Padres, who are merely 174-0 in games they have led after the eighth inning since midseason of 1996.

“I’m not superstitious as much as driven, not psychotic as much as practical,” said Hoffman, who leads the major leagues in saves since 1995 and emerged as a Cy Young award candidate this year. Converting 53 of 54 save opportunities, he tied the National League record and became only the fourth pitcher with 50 or more in a season.

“I may be biased, but I would have a hard time finding a pitcher more deserving [of the Cy Young],” San Diego General Manager Kevin Towers said. “People win 20 games every year, but 50 saves doesn’t happen that often. We wouldn’t be where we are without him, and that 174 and 0 says it all.”

The National League West champion Padres will send Kevin Brown against Randy Johnson and the Astros in the opener of the best-of-five division series here today and Hoffman, blessed with a 90-mph-plus fastball and a contrasting changeup, will follow his usual preparations.

“I’m not Wade Boggs,” he said. “I don’t eat chicken every day. I don’t do sprints exactly at 7:17 or whatever time he does them. I simply follow a training discipline and game routine that helps me relax and lock in, gives me time to go over hitters and situations. I never deviate.”

His routine:

* Leave the bullpen for the clubhouse in the fifth inning.

* Polish cleats while listening to the game on the radio.

* Take a a hot shower to help loosen up the shoulder.

* Get a rubdown to work out any kinks in the shoulder.

* Return to the bullpen by the end of the seventh inning if the Padres are home, bottom of the eighth if on the road.

And one more thing: Take the ball whenever it is offered.

“We do our best to give him a day off, but he won’t take it,” pitching coach Dave Stewart said. “He’ll take the ball five straight days if you give it to him. He’s a warrior, and that’s the highest compliment you can give a player.”

There is no flamboyance to the warrior. There are no animated gestures showing up the opposition or private psych sessions behind the mound as he prepares to pitch.

“I don’t think that kind of thing gains respect or intimidates major league hitters,” Hoffman said. “It comes down to stuff, not style.”

Even if he has taken a circuitous route developing it, the 6-foot, 205-pound Hoffman, 30, obviously has the right stuff. Some of it was inherited.

He is the brother of Dodger Manager Glenn Hoffman and son of the late Ed Hoffman, who was known as the singing usher at then Anaheim Stadium, often delivering the national anthem in a pinch.

Hoffman’s resiliency may stem from the fact that Ed Hoffman didn’t let any of his three sons--Greg is a special-education teacher--pitch after Little League out of concern that a selfish coach might abuse their arms.

Trevor played shortstop at Savanna High, Cypress Community College and Arizona. He was selected in the 11th round of the 1989 draft by the Cincinnati Reds. Scout Jeff Barton, having detected the life in his right arm, filed a report that read: shortstop/pitcher.

Perhaps he had seen Hoffman pitch a practice game at Cypress.

“I begged and begged Coach [Scott] Pickler for the chance,” Hoffman said. “I think I faced eight batters and six hit the ball over the fence.”

The shortstop made 55 errors in two seasons in the low minors, batted .249 one year and .212 the next, hit a total of three home runs, and was asked to move to the mound in 1991.

“I had a real nice aluminum-bat swing, but put that wood in my hand and it was all over,” Hoffman said, smiling. “I’m also not much of a runner, kind of a lead foot. I took my infield abilities as far as they would go. I wanted to wear a major league uniform, no matter what it took, so I was willing to make the move. It wasn’t like I had Barry Larkin looking over his shoulder.”

Recalled Glenn Hoffman, “When Trevor went to the mound, you could really see the light turn on. He had always been real competitive. He always wanted to beat his older brothers in pingpong or Wiffleball or whatever game we were playing.

“The thing was, in high school, he was like 5-foot-6 and 120 pounds and we were 6-2, 180, but he would never give in. When he finally grew into his body, he just took over. And when he went to the mound, you could see that one-on-one competitiveness take hold. He didn’t have to worry about hitting the ball. He had it in his hand. He was in control of it.”

There was no overnight miracle, but a succession of sub-2 earned-run averages at Cedar Rapids and Chattanooga seemed to indicate a future--only not with the Reds, who faced a roster logjam in the fall of ’92 and exposed Hoffman to the expansion draft.

He was taken by the Florida Marlins, made the big league bullpen in ’93 and benefited from the relationship with new teammate Bryan Harvey, the former Angel closer, and new pitching coach Marcel Lachemann.

It was a promising situation for a young pitcher learning his craft, but it didn’t last.

Hoffman was one of three pitchers traded to the Padres in June ’93 for Gary Sheffield and Rich Rodriguez, part of the payroll purge by former San Diego owner Tom Werner. Sheffield was coming off a big season, and the trade was lambasted in San Diego, but the anonymous Hoffman ultimately turned it into one of the best of former general manager Randy Smith’s regime, although Hoffman himself didn’t like it at the time.

The Marlins were building, the Padres were tearing down.

Glenn Hoffman pointed out the positives to his brother: proximity to his parents, a return to the West Coast and a great city, the opportunity to pitch without immediate pressure and expectations.

“We took our lumps in ’93 and ‘94, but I was allowed to serve my apprenticeship, to go out and learn at the big league level without anyone breathing down my neck to win a championship right away,” Hoffman said. “It turned out great.”

There were 20 saves in ‘94, 31 in ‘95, 42 in ‘96--three in the final series of the regular season when the Padres swept the Dodgers in Los Angeles to clinch the division title--and 37 last year, the first year of a three-year, $8.4-million contract.

This year, he has been virtually flawless. A home run by Houston’s Moises Alou led to his only blown save.

“It helps to have had a maturation process in which you’ve been successful, but you get caught up in it and start believing the headlines and you can get slammed off course,” Hoffman said.

“You’re only as good as your last outing. If you’re going to be a closer, you have to have a short memory, a lot of self-confidence and what I would call an equalizer.

“Bryan Harvey’s equalizer was his split-finger [fastball]. Mine is my change-up. Some pitchers work the plate side to side. I work front to back. It’s tough for a hitter to get geared up for a 90-mph fastball and then be able to stay back and hit a 77-mph changeup that’s delivered with the same arm speed. I like my odds with that combination.”

Hoffman, however, also has a slider and curve.

“Most short relievers are two-pitch pitchers,” Stewart said. “Not many can get you out with four. Trev is the best in the game right now.”

Only Bobby Thigpen, with 57 saves for the Chicago White Sox in 1990, saved more games in a season. Hoffman got his 53rd in Sunday’s regular-season finale, tying the National League record set by Randy Myers, now one of Hoffman’s setup men.

“I’m proud to share the record, but you can rack up as many saves as you want in the regular season and it doesn’t mean a thing if you don’t do the job in the postseason to help your team get the ring,” Hoffman said. “That’s the ultimate achievement.”

The Padre closer has made all those saves seem almost routine, part of that daily routine that includes close monitoring of even his casual, pregame throws so as to maintain the strength of his arm.

“I tend to count things, by nature,” Hoffman said. “Not absolute, not exact, but I keep a rough track. You only have so many throws, so many games. I want to know that I have something left at the end of the season.”

As part of all this, the former shortstop also never takes batting practice.

“If I have to hit in a game, it’s probably because I messed up [working on the save],” he said. “I have no desire to hit again, so I don’t. Besides, I could get hurt.”

This established pattern is not to say, however, that Hoffman won’t deliver the unexpected. Take the 1993 Super Bowl between the Dallas Cowboys and Buffalo Bills in Pasadena, when six of his buddies held up a sign reading, “Hey, Tracy Burke, Will You Marry Me?”

Tracy Burke was a Bills’ cheerleader whom Hoffman had met while pitching in the Reds’ minor league system. And there he was at the Rose Bowl, ring in hand, on his knees, the national TV cameras capturing his proposal.

Hoffman now says, “You’ve got to be something of a geek to propose in front of millions of people.”

Did the save leader close the deal? Well, the Hoffmans now have two children and live in Southlake, Texas, and the former Tracy Burke does her cheering for a different team in a different sport.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

Firefighters

Most saves, one season:

1. Bobby Thigpen, 1990 Chicago White Sox: 57

2. Trevor Hoffman, 1998 San Diego Padres: 53

2. Randy Myers, 1993 Chicago Cubs: 53

4. Dennis Eckersley, 1992 Oakland A’s: 51

5. Rod Beck, 1998 Chicago Cubs: 51

6. Rod Beck, 1993 San Francisco Giants: 48

6. Dennis Eckersley, 1990 Oakland A’s: 48

Most saves, 1995-98:

1. Trevor Hoffman: 163