Last Word Belongs to Dodgers

Speaking recently about Gary Sheffield and spring training, a Dodger official used the word “punch.”

It was not about whether Sheffield would work more on punching the ball to the opposite field.

Nor was it about whether he would help clubhouse attendants mix the Gatorade punch.

It was about whether, once in the Vero Beach clubhouse, he would finally punch someone.

And if so, who?

Let’s see, he is jealous of Shawn Green, so he might punch him, right? Nah, Sheff is not that openly confrontational.

How about Eric Karros? He has quietly ripped Karros for three years, so maybe this finally blows up? Nah. If Sheff was going to fight Karros, he would have done it on those occasions when Karros openly asked him if there was a problem.

Maybe he would try a left hook on Dan Evans, whom he called a liar? Or maybe the target would be Chairman Bob Daly, whom he called a bigger liar.

It was decided that, given his personality, Sheffield probably wouldn’t punch anybody.

But the fact that this was even being seriously speculated was the knockout blow that eventually landed Sheffield in Atlanta.

The Dodgers traded their best player Tuesday not because they didn’t value him, but because they couldn’t trust him.

They feel he quit on them last year after midseason, when he was moved from third to fourth in the batting order so he could bat behind Green and help him see better pitches.

Sheffield thought the Dodgers were giving Green special treatment. So even though the move worked wonders for Green and the Dodgers, Sheffield pouted.

Of Sheffield’s 100 RBIs, only six came during September, a month when he batted just .216.

During that same month, he was thrown out of a critical game against Arizona in the first inning for arguing a strike call ... while his teammate was trying to score on a passed ball.

One official estimated that 80% of the time, Sheffield played hard. The other 20% of the time, he disappeared.

Five days a week, he would be the team’s smartest and toughest player. Two days a week, he would let fly balls drop at his feet.

Opponents knew exactly what the Dodgers knew. Why do you think Sheffield recorded so many dramatic assists? Players liked to run on him because, despite his good arm, they were willing to take a chance on his head.

The Dodgers didn’t get rid of Sheffield because he insulted his bosses. They got rid of him because of actions that insulted his teammates.

While Green broke the club home run record shared by Sheffield and Duke Snider, Sheffield fumed, saying it really didn’t matter to him.

The August night that Green hit three home runs, Sheffield quickly jumped into the batter’s box after the third homer, preventing prolonged Dodger Stadium cheers.

Their quiet feud reached a boiling point during one September game in San Diego, when the two players nearly came to blows in the dugout after Sheffield felt Green didn’t run hard enough to help Sheffield reach 100 RBIs.

The Dodgers, it turns out, weren’t big enough for both of them.

In earlier years, the target of Sheffield’s clubhouse rips was Karros, even when the first baseman was sound and hitting at least 30 homers with 100 RBIs.

Sheffield has a great judgment at the plate, but questionable judgment everywhere else.

He was a Dodger for three spring trainings. He disrupted two of them.

He ended a great season in 1999 by refusing to play on the final day in Houston--even though the game was a factor in an Astro pennant race--because he didn’t want his

.301 batting average to dip below

.300.

During his 31/2 years here, he was clearly the Dodgers’ most talented player. But also during that time, he publicly demanded trades, threatened retirement, warned that he wouldn’t play hard, and insulted Dodger fans who never booed him as loudly as he booed them.

And all this time, what did Sheffield really want? It wasn’t love. It wasn’t respect.

It was money.

Every tirade can be traced back to the fact that Sheffield realized he was the only star on this team who was not being grossly overpaid, and he wanted his due.

This winter’s final straw, when he ripped Evans in Jason Reid’s story that appeared on New Year’s Day?

It didn’t just come to him while watching a parade. He had been worried ever since buddy Barry Bonds warned him that if he didn’t goad the Dodgers into removing the option on his contract, in three years Sheffield would find himself a 36-year-old free agent with no bidders besides his own team.

Sort of like, well, Bonds.

The Dodgers briefly thought last year that agent Scott Boras could help. But when even Boras acknowledged that he could not control Sheffield’s hate for the organization and some of its players, the Dodgers knew it was time to dump him.

Did they get fair value from the Atlanta Braves? Of course not. When Sheffield suitors are flooding your phone one day after Sheffield rips your general manager, you know you will never get fair value.

For their best hitter, they acquired a football player and a 23-year-old left-hander who has already had Tommy John surgery.

Still, it’s not all bad.

If Brian Jordan doesn’t turn out to be another Charles Johnson--a player angered by a trade that takes him from his pregnant wife--he could fill about 70% of Sheffield’s void.

If Odalis Perez’s presence allows the Dodgers to trade a starting pitcher for a closer before opening day, that takes care of the other 30%.

None of this is pretty.

But none of this is as ugly as it could have been.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com.