A Cheaper Round-Trip Ticket

You are going to meet a famous ballplayer, 10-year-old Marc Watkins was told several weeks ago as he was brought over to the still tall, still lean, still smiling figure swinging a golf club on a Phoenix driving range. This is Ernie Banks, who hit more than 500 home runs in the big leagues.

“He looked at me,” recalled the 72-year-old Banks, “like I was Superman. I felt so proud.”

Membership in the 500 Club has continued to grow since Banks retired 32 years ago, with 17 members and four more expected this year, but don’t try to convince Banks that 500 career home runs don’t go as far as they used to in terms of accomplishment.

Tell that to little Marc Watkins, he argues.

“It’s still a milestone,” Banks said, “a remarkable accomplishment. It expresses a lot about concentration, dedication and focus. You’ve got to play a lot of games and you’ve got to be real consistent to hit 500 home runs. It’s almost a miracle.”

It was once a sheer peak, scaled by fewer than a handful of all-time greats.

Roger Connor broke in with the Troy Trojans in 1880, hitting three home runs in 83 games. When he retired 18 years later as a member of the St. Louis Browns, he was the major league career leader with 138 home runs, even though he had never hit more than 17 in a season.

Connor’s mark stood for 24 seasons, until a former pitcher named George Herman Ruth blasted 59 home runs in 1921 to give him 162 for his career. Ruth, who had hit 54 a season earlier to bury the dead-ball era, kept building on that career total until he retired with a seemingly unreachable 714 home runs.

When Hank Aaron, who would eventually break Ruth’s mark en route to 755, reached the majors in 1954, Jimmie Foxx was second on the all-time list with 534 home runs. Mel Ott (511) was the only other player over 500.

In this season alone, Sammy Sosa (499), Rafael Palmeiro (490), Fred McGriff (478) and Ken Griffey Jr. (468) figure to reach a career milestone once considered as rare as 3,000 hits or 300 pitching victories.

Home runs are certainly no longer unique. Fans in the outfield bleachers, armed with gloves, anticipate balls coming their way with the regularity of beer vendors coming down the aisles. It used to be said that the home run hitters drive the Cadillacs. Now everybody, big and tall and chunky and small, drives the ball.

So, Banks’ feelings notwithstanding, has membership in the 500 Club been devalued? When Mickey Mantle is 10th, Stan Musial 22nd and Joe DiMaggio 56th on the all-time home-run list, have the numbers gotten out of whack? How can you compare those players with today’s big boppers?

You can’t, any more than you could compare Ruth to Connor, the modern era to the dead-ball era. We have, says television analyst Bob Costas, entered yet another era.

“In my mind,” said Costas, “you had the era prior to 1900, or 1903 when the World Series started, then an era stretching from then until 1947, when a new phase began with the arrival of Jackie Robinson and the integration of baseball. Then, around 1994, yet another era started when some very strange things began to happen.”

In the mind of Steve Hirdt, a vice president of the Elias Sports Bureau, this newest era dawned at a very specific moment.

“It was April 4, 1994,” he said, “opening day between the Chicago Cubs and the New York Mets. Tuffy Rhodes of the Cubs, who would wind up with 13 home runs in 590 career at-bats, hit three home runs that day against Doc Gooden. That’s what I’m calling the moment that ended the modern dead-ball era. You know, a dead-ball era is in the eye of the beholder.”

From that point on, what was dead were the arms of the pitchers who tried to blow fastballs by the big-bodied, muscle-bulging figures confronting them 60 feet 6 inches away.

In 1994, Matt Williams led the majors with 43 home runs despite the fact he played in only 112 games in that strike-shortened season. In the ensuing years, no one has led the majors with fewer than 50 home runs, three of those seasons ending with a total higher than Roger Maris’ 61, the major league record for 34 years.

“The game has been ripped from its historical moorings,” Costas said. “The whole frame of reference has been warped. Prior to 1994, a guy who hit 30 home runs and drove in 100-plus runs could be the MVP. Now, he might not make the All-Star game.

“It’s always been tricky to compare eras, but it was at least possible. I have no idea what the basis of comparison is anymore. A lot of the guys hitting eye-popping numbers were already in the big leagues before 1994, already stars, guys like [Barry] Bonds, [Mark] McGwire and Sosa. But in the mid-’90s, they went from very good to Ruthian.”

The reasons for this explosion usually center on two factors much discussed, but never proven, “juiced balls and juiced players,” as Costas put it. But even without altered baseballs and steroids, there are plenty of explanations for the power surge, from increased emphasis on weight training to a decreased strike zone to hitter-friendly parks to diluted pitching

“In the 1950s,” said Bill James, the sport’s numbers guru who now works in the Boston Red Sox front office, “they didn’t believe in weight training. They thought it would make hitters muscle-bound. That was a stupid idea.”

Using the dumb bells may have inflated the home run numbers, but it hasn’t done much for averages. A 3,000-hit career remains beyond the reach of all but a select few and a .400 season batting average has remained beyond the reach of any player since Ted Williams hit .406 in 1941.

“Hitters are stronger,” Hirdt said, “but that doesn’t help them make more contact. It does help them drive the ball with more power. When you look back to old games, just in the 1980s and early ‘90s, even the third and fourth hitters in the lineup look like high-school kids compared to today. Everybody looked skinny. If they took their shirts off for the team picture today, you could immediately tell the 14 position players from the 11 pitchers.”

James is confident those skinny guys on the mound will again have their day.

“At some point,” he said, “there will be another shift and the pitchers will take over. But don’t expect it to happen right away.”

Right away, like, this season, if Palmeiro manages to hit 32 home runs, he will pass Lou Gehrig, Eddie Murray, Ott, Banks, Eddie Mathews, Ted Williams and Willie McCovey on the all-time list.

Does anybody outside the Palmeiro family seriously think he belongs in that company?

Banks, who is tied with Mathews for 14th place with 512 home runs, kiddingly says he plans on moving up himself.

“I may be 72 years old,” he said, “but I feel I still have a home run left in me. I just may get in shape and break that tie.”

*

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

Seventeen players, including the Giants’ Barry Bonds, have hit 500 or more career home runs. A look at the four who could reach the milestone this season:

SAMMY SOSA (499)

Cubs off today; big one could come as soon as Wednesday.

RAFAEL PALMEIRO (490)

Eight straight seasons of 38 or more homers but hasn’t led the league.

FRED McGRIFF (478)

New Dodger hit 30 homers for Cubs last season.

KEN GRIFFEY JR. (468)

Slowed by injuries after hitting 438 home runs by age 30.