Playboy's 1991 Baseball Preview

It Began with the echo of padlocks. Baseball's bosses, who had long conspired against the workers, faced a mob that was hungry for its pound of flesh. So the owners, like the cast of Night of the Living Dead, locked the gates and boarded up the ticket windows. The players stormed in and ate them alive. Labor beat management in the lockout wars by $280,000,000---the price of the collusion finding against the owners.

Baseball 1990 started late. The Cincinnati Reds, who as the first pro club own the right to open each season at home, began the season blasphemously, in Houston. They unveiled their Nasty Boy bull pen that night. Norm Charlton, Rob Dibble and Randy Myers struck out ten Astros in six innings. Cincinnati seized first place and never let go. But the Reds' dome opener stirred baseball spirits. Someone spotted three old Baseball Annies stirring a caldron, chanting "Fair is foul, and foul is fair," rules to live by in the season of the witch.

Toronto's Glenallen Hill mauled himself trying to escape a horde of spiders that attacked him in a nightmare. Hill became the first player ever to go on the disabled list for arachnophobia. The White Sox' Steve "Psycho" Lyons dropped his pants at first base. We learned even more about infield flakes at doomed Comiskey Park when grounds-keepers revealed that the ashes of a few die-hard fans were scattered there. Atlanta slugger Jim Presley reportedly slugged his own mother (but charges were dropped), while his teammate Nick Esasky lost his season to a vertigo attack. In San Diego, a hideous blob profaned the national anthem. Pirates skipper Jim Leyland, a man given to sudden spells of sobbing, said his team was "scared" in September. And why not? That's the kind of Stephen King season it was. As the Bucs paddled toward the sunset, a huge Saint Bernard, rabid with pennant fever, pounced.

Cujo---a.k.a. Schottzie, the Cincinnati mascot---was a shaggy-dog shaman whose powers repulsed the best of both leagues. Reds owner Marge Schott, who charges players' wives to fly on the team charter, dotes on her dog. Last fall, she urged her players to wear funny "Schottzie hats" on the field. The Reds suggested other uses for the hats, so the Red Queen talked manager Lou Piniella into dropping locks of Cujo's fur down his jersey before games. In the unholiest season, the ritual worked.

But magic fades, and now a dozen teams have a clear shot at Cujo. The 11 others will catch the Reds only in their dreams. Even so, all 26 clubs are tied for first place through April seventh; hope, like a zombie, springs eternal.

The Reds, the Dodgers and the Giants should play hand over hand over hand in the National League West. In the East, the Cubs have scary power to put to work in Wrigley Field, last year's Met Sematary. New York died at Wrigley in September; the Mets will avenge themselves, holding off the Cubs and the fast-rising Expos. In the American League East, strong man Glenn Davis plays Kindergarten Bop as leader of a talented cast of young O's; Boston has Jack Clark ripping at the Green Monster; Toronto has Joe Carter and 1991 Comeback of the Year Devon White in the same outfield. The Jays should face Oakland in the playoffs. The A's are not invincible, as the Reds proved, but they are the team of the late 20th Century. Ryan's Rangers and Kansas City's Royals will chase them in the West.

Revenge will mend Oakland's rep as a World Series failure. The A's are better than the challengers in their own division. They are better than Toronto, Baltimore and Boston, the best of the East. They are better than any National League club. Still, all that was true last season, when the mighty A's were supposed to treat Cincinnati the way Godzilla treats Tokyo.

Cincinnati repelled a late challenge from the Dodgers and met Pittsburgh in the National League Championship Series. Schott welcomed the Pirates to Riverfront Stadium by giving their wives nosebleed seats. "Bob Uecker had better seats," said a Pirates wife. With their women griping and their manager breaking into tears, the distracted N.L. East champs sank in six. Cincinnati won, as it had all year, with its bull pen.

The Nasties---Charlton, Dibble and Myers---look scary, even without the whiskers they'd sport if they were free men. (Schott allows facial hair only on Cujo.) But what is most daunting about them is the way they loom over the second half of a game. Premiere closers Dennis Eckersley and Bobby Thigpen pitch just an inning, sometimes two. Dibble and Myers, even without Charlton, can hold a lead from the sixth or seventh inning on, forcing opponents to score early or not at all. They are the nasty shape of pens to come. The Giants, Cubs, Padres, Jays and Twins may all try double-closer combos in 1991, though no one else will match Cincinnati's.

After Myers nailed down a final save in the play-offs, the Reds partied soberly. Commissioner Fay Vincent had banned clubhouse champagne---another of 1990's blasphemies. Then they set their sights on the best team in the game.

The A's have won 323 games in three years. They are the closest thing to a dynasty the modern game allows. They swept the Red Sox, the closest thing to human sacrifice the game allows, in the American League Champion Series. Boston was both blessed and cursed last season. On their march to the play-offs, the Red Sox had unraveled 18--0 and 13--0 to Milwaukee and 16--0 to Minnesota. In July, they hit into two triple plays in one game, a major-league record, but won the game. Next day, they hit into a league-record six double plays but won again. Those two wins moved them from a half game behind the Blue Jays to one and a half ahead. Boston won the East by two, then faced the monsters from Oakland.

Roger Clemens doesn't have the soul, brains or police record of a hero, just the cojones. Tossed out of the last play-off game against Oakland by umpire Terry Cooney, Clemens' face turned the color of the B on his cap. He couldn't keep the Bosox from falling in four straight.

The Shocker Series matched Godzilla against Cujo, and the pup was given no chance. Even the Reds admitted that Oakland was better. The A's were 3--1 favorites, football odds. Good as they were, the A's couldn't beat the bumbling Braves 75 percent of the time. Anyone who knew how oddly the ball can hop in a week of baseball rushed to Vegas and put big bucks on the dog---or at least thought about doing so and kicked his dumb self all winter for thinking it and not doing it.

Chubby speedster Billy Hatcher went double-double in game one, blowing bubbles all the way. Dave Stewart toiled in trouble and gave up four quick runs. Cincinnati got three in the fifth and coasted, 7--0, behind eventual series M.V.P. Jose Rijo. Oakland's nightmare on Pete Rose Way continued in game two. The untouchable Eckersley was touched for three singles and a run in the tenth; baseball's best closer had now eaten tin cans twice in three Octobers. Cujo drooled over his two-game lead; cast and crew flew to Oakland, where the A's were supposed to wake up. The opposite happened. They blinked, the Nasties finished spinning eight and two thirds blistering shutout innings and the Reds were bubbling in the visitors' clubhouse, this time with real champagne.

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From now to doomsday, when some soccer fan says that baseball is boring, pop a cork and salute 1990. When curmudgeons gripe that the game was better in the old days, point to Barry Bonds, Rickey Henderson, Eric Davis, Bo, Darryl, Kirby, Hojo and a dozen others---there are more dashing, multi-talented players than ever before. Naturally, since rare talent commands big bucks in a capitalist system, they and other stars are rich men. Also naturally, that doesn't please the collusion constituency, the team owners.

"We may have found the way to destroy baseball," says Al Rosen, the Giants' shrewd president and general manager. He means the current salary boom, triggered by labor's victory in the lockout war of 1990. Rosen knows all about it: He recently signed three players for $33,000,000. "The general manager had the hammer when I played. Today, the player is in charge," he says, "and we can't continue on this road. Too many teams will lose money." Rosen sees revenue sharing, perhaps with an N.B.A.-style salary cap, as the way to head off disaster.

"That's so much PR eyewash," says Don Fehr, executive director of the Major League Players Association. "The sky has been falling since baseball was created." In 1975, Fehr helped win the court case that enabled players to market their skills as free agents. Commissioner Bowie Kuhn had said the A.L. would fold if Fehr's side won that fight. Instead, the game prospered. "In '76, total revenues were less than two hundred million dollars," Fehr says. "In 1991, they'll be more than four point one billion dollars." In short, baseball has never been richer. Fehr bristles when management complains about players' salaries: "I don't have sympathy for them, not after so many years of collusion."

The standard owner's argument goes like this: Salaries will ruin the game---the rich big-city teams will buy up all the talent and win every year. But recall that in 1990, the Yankees, the richest team, finished last. Ditto the Braves, whose owner has spent zillions trying to buy a winner but whose ladyfriend has more Oscars than his team has pennants. Remember that 23 of the 26 clubs have won at least one division flag since 1980. In the past 13 years, twelve teams have earned the right to spray champagne after the World Series, and in 1990, the Reds---representing the smallest big-league town---got the big gulp.

Now comes the sequel, Godzilla's Revenge.

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Cito Gaston's Blue Jays went neck and neck, choke and choke, down the stretch with Boston last summer, until they were downed by a sore-armed Rocket on the final weekend. Now the Jays have redone the nest. In the biggest trade of its 15-year history, Toronto shipped surly stars Tony Fernandez and Fred McGriff to San Diego for outfielder Joe Carter and second baseman Roberto Alomar. McGriff, whose disappearing-bat trick often lasted for weeks at a time, won't be missed the way most 300-hitting 35-homer men would be. His successor at first base is John Olerud, who survived a life-threatening brain aneurysm and jumped straight from college to the majors. Olerud's textbook swing is so fine he has an outside shot at the batting title, and in an emergency, he can even pitch.

Carter will love the cozy SkyDome after seven seasons in the caverns of Cleveland and San Diego. Seeing National League pitching for the first time since 1983, he hit just .232 but drove in 115 runs, third in the league. Back home in the American League, he will drive in even more and make a run at the 30--30 club. If the Jays win the East, Carter will be the league's M.V.P. The other half of G.M. Pat Gillick's big gamble is Alomar. He'll back up Julio Franco on the 1991 All-Star team, then start for the next decade. Gillick let starter Bud Black and sometime slugger George Bell go, but Carter is better than Bell and there's a promising lefty, Denis Boucher, coming from Syracuse to take Black's spot. Gillick also landed "Devo" White to play a golden center field and hit 50 points better than his .217 last year, plus Ken Dayley to caddie for closer Tom Henke. As the most improved club in the game, the Jays are ready to take off.

After paying Houston G.M. "Crazy" Bill Wood's low, low price for cleanup man Glenn Davis, the Orioles are a year ahead in their five-year plan to rule the world. Manager Frank Robinson's staff features the East's top two young pitchers, starter Ben McDonald and finisher Gregg Olson. Another tandem, Bob Milacki and Jeff Ballard, won't be a combined 7--19 twice in a row. The Os will find at-bats for kid hitters Leo Gomez and David Segui but will go only as far as Davis, ironman shortstop Cal Ripken, Jr., and D.H./role model Dwight Evans lead them. That means all the way---but not until 1992, when they open a new ball park that will set the standard for a century and host a World Series in it.

Jack "the Ripper" Clark may keep the Red Sox on top by ripping holes in the netting over Fenway's Green Monster, but don't count on it. Clark throws out his back, strains his wrist or pulls his attitude about once a week. He could hit 40 home runs or get hurt and hit ten. Wade Boggs, meanwhile, is certain to bat 25 points better than last year's .302. Mike Greenwell will drive home 100 runs. Ellis Burks will earn some M.V.P. votes. Rookie power plant Phil Plantier will swat some big flies and strike out the rest of the time. Roger Clemens won't match his 1990 performance. No one will do that for a few years. The other hurlers will reek, and if the Sox are still afloat in September, manager Joe Morgan's antediluvian tactics will sink them. it never fails---the Boston strangler is also the stranglee.

First, the Tigers banned chaw in the clubhouse. Ballplayers hate prude rules like that. Next, they pink-slipped sainted announcer Ernie Harwell, effective in 1992, and the fans hated the team. The Tigers aren't popular, but I like them for three reasons. First, Cecil Fielder may be a sessile fielder, but he is a whale of a hitter. No fluke, he's likely to hit 50 homers again. Another reason Detroit is cool is that Sparky Anderson has a 670-pound wind machine in the middle of his order: Last year, Fielder, Rob Deer and Mickey Tettleton fanned 489 times. (In 1941, Joe DiMaggio struck out 13 times all year.) The third reason to like the Tigers is Travis Fryman. After Fryman, 21, got his first major-league hit, he sneered at pitcher Jeff Montgomery: "Get that weak shit out of here."

Last winter, Cleveland traded Joe Carter to San Diego. Now he's back East, playing for the Jays, but when they see him, the Indians will still pat themselves on the back. They got Sandy Alomar, Jr., for him. Already a superb defensive catcher, Alomar surprised even the Tribe by batting .290 his rookie year. He and little bro Roberto will meet this year at Municipal Stadium and the SkyDome, and one day at Cooperstown if they stay healthy. Outfielder Alex Cole will lead a quicker attack: Called up in late July, he swiped 40 bases in a heartbeat. But G.M. Hank Peters has Scrooged the fans again---he made stopper Doug Jones settle for a one-year contract, meaning that Jones will skip town in 1992, and Peters made no effort at all to keep Candy Maldonado's 22 home runs and 95 R.B.I.s. In Peters' plan, a few rotten moves had to follow the great one to land Alomar, lest Tribe fans start expecting wins.

Milwaukee's Brewers, in need of defense, signed Franklin Stubbs, whose fielding is as smooth as his name. With a quartet of incumbent starting pitchers who went 33--35, they signed a trio of middle relievers. Something is brewing in Beertown, but it's flat.

After their worst performance in 78 years, the Yankees, those Bronx Bummers, will have a better show for their new boss, stage king Robert Nederlander. Don Mattingly earns raves as the gimpy vet who puts his career back together. Hensley "Bam Bam" Meulens, long miscast as a third baseman, shines in left. But the showstopper is Mel Hall, as he styles endlessly around the bases after one of his infrequent homers.

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Losing Carney Lansford to a snowmobile crash is bound to hurt the A's. Although he slumped from .336 in 1989 to .268, Lansford hit .355 in the post-season last year. The accident that demolished his left knee will keep him on the side lines all season, though (continued on page 175)Baseball Preview(continued from page 141) there is a tantalizing chance that he'll return in September or October.

Tony La Russa has other troubles. Who will replace departed Scott Sanderson's 17 wins? Can Mike Moore bounce back from 13--15 to something closer to 1989's 19--11? How's Jose Canseco? Can't Dennis Eckersley find a more fitting post-K gesture than "shooting" his victims? Why did they pay Bob Welch $13,800,000? And didn't the Reds prove that Oakland is not as good as everyone thought?

The answers: Eric Show, this year's retread; Moore can and he will; Jose will "redeem" his 37-homer, 19-steal "slump"; yes, but you can't use that finger on TV; Welch is 36--8 at the Oakland Coliseum; no, the Reds proved that a good team can embarrass a great team for a week. Remember how the A's reacted after the Dodgers humbled them in 1988? They got mad, then they got even. They are madder now. There are no rotten teams in the A.L. West, but just one great one.

An unholy roller off Bo Jackson's bat jumped and split Nolan Ryan's lip; Rangers fans were horrified to see their hero with gore running down his chin to his number 34. Nolie calmly found the ball and threw Bo out. Another night, when Ryan's back acted up, he shrugged and finished his no-hitter, fanning 14 without benefit of a single called third strike. His fastball was clocked at 94 miles per hour in the bottom of the ninth. And in addition to his record six no-nos, Ryan has fired 12 one-hitters, 19 two-hitters and 59 shutouts. Now 44, he hasn't won a pennant since he was 22. This could be the year.

Although humpless, Juan "Igor" Gonzalez has a bad back that will allow him to carry the Rangers for only a week now and then. If his back holds up, Gonzalez is the game's next hero. He and Ruben Sierra give Texas the Puerto Rican pop to make pitchers think dos veces. Julio Franco (.296) and Rafael Palmeiro (.319) will be on base for the power guys to drive in. Bobby Witt keeps batters honest with frequent attacks of wilding but is learning to win big. The soul of Witt during his best season was a one-run victory over the A's: four hits, ten strikeouts, ten walks. Smooth starter Kevin Brown and rookie Scott Chiamparino complement Witt's and Ryan's heat. A gambler, knowing that Kenny Rogers (ten wins, 15 saves) can hold 'em, would take the long odds on Texas.

Nineteen ninety was a Royal pain in Kansas City. Bret Saberhagen, who gets Cy Young awards in odd-numbered years and fifth-inning showers in even years, fell from 23--6 to 5--9. Last year, he and Mark Davis were K.C.'s Cy clones, the first teammates to defend the award in the same year. Both were shelved---Saberhagen for injuries and Davis for getting shelled. The Royals finished 16 and a half games below their 1989 record, which they had expected to improve, and 27 and a half out of first. Even that was not the end of their shame: George Brett---who sat during the season's final week instead of taking his cuts like a man---pussyfooted his way to the smuttiest batting title of the decade in the Nineties' first year.

There were consolations: Bo Jackson, the Royal Raider, hit 28 homers, one of which was an absurd clout that literally started at his shoetops---only Bo knows such things are possible. Kid pitcher Kevin Appier emerged as one of the league's best number-two starters; he joins Saberhagen, signee Mike Boddicker, Mark "Goobie" Gubicza and either Storm Davis or Flash Gordon in a rotation that can average 15 wins. Pitching guru Pat Dobson comes from San Diego to save Davis. Kirk Gibson's coming from L.A. to growl a lot and show the Royals how to get World Series rings. If Bo breaks the plane of the 30--30 club and George Brett apologizes to the gods, this club might crash to the top.

Ken Griffey, Sr., batted .632 and was Player of the Week early in September. Aside from that week, however, he hit only .250 with 19 R.B.I.s. Still, he got a $1,000,000 contract from the Mariners. Seattle G.M. Woody Woodward claims that Griffey earned the money, and in a way, he's right. He sired Ken Griffey, Jr., who batted an even .300 on the year, hit 22 homers, banged in 80 runs, stole 16 bases and hinted at great achievements by the millennium. The grin on Junior's oval baby face matched the one over Ken Griffey. Sr.'s, rugged jaw as they patted and poked each other in the dugout. They'll have even more fun in 1991 as the Ms top the .500 mark for the first time ever. Rookie Tino Martinez, Griffey fils and .302-hitting Edgar Martinez lead a line-up that won't need to score much to win. Seattle's young pitching staff, starring potential 20-game winner Erik Hanson, isn't that much worse than the millionaires in Oakland. How bright is the future in the Kingdome? Harold Reynolds, who does charity work when he's not turning singles into outs behind second base, was picked by George Bush as one of America's official "Daily Points of Light."

Jeff Torborg's White Sox astounded the league by turning a 69--92 record into 94--68 in one year. They can't keep a gain of that magnitude, but Tim Raines is on board to hit lead-off and chase Rickey Henderson for the steals title; he and the Sox' young arms will keep them from waving goodbye. Lefty Greg Hibbard was the pitching find of last season; lefty Wilson Alvarez may be this year's surprise. Bobby Thigpen will save 40 to 45, because the number 57 before the word saves looks like a typo. Eagle-eyed Frank Thomas might chase Wade Boggs toward .330 in the batting race, but Chicago won't win 85.

Angels manager Doug Rader relayed one of the game's best, simplest truths. "The art of pitching is to make people mis-hit balls," he said. There is nothing badly skewed about his Halos, they just mis-hit a few more balls than other players do. In this division, you don't have to stink to finish sixth, and if Mark Langston wins 30 while Luis Polonia bats .400, the Angels could ascend to third.

Did someone say there were no rotten teams in the A.L. West? Cut a ventilation hole in the roof of Humphrey Dome---there's something dead under the Twins' carpet. Their one strength was their bull pen, with Rick Aguilera (32 saves) and heir apparent Rich Garces, the A.L.'s next great saver. So the front office ignored the team's manifold flaws and signed stopper Steve Bedrosian.

National East League

With no Strawberry in the middle, the Mets' batting order lacks flavor. Howard Johnson. Kevin McReynolds. Hubie Brooks---meat and potatoes. G.M. Frank Cashen has reformulated the New York order, which will rise or fall depending on the dash Cashen has added on top.

Two years ago, the Mets brain trust botched one big time, dealing Len Dykstra and Roger McDowell for Juan "I Hate New York" Samuel. That trade probably cost New York the division last year. And now Darryl Strawberry, the best Met ever, is a Dodger. Cashen let him go and acquired two outfielders, essentially trading Strawberry and a surplus starter for Brooks and Vince Coleman.

Brooks, the right-handed bat the Mets needed last fall, can provide a rib-sticking 20 home runs and 80--90 R.B.I.s. Coleman is the lead-off man the club has lacked since splitting the Dykstra/Mookie monster by trading both of them. If Coleman can stand about 10,000 decibels of booing in April, he will steal 80 bases, score 110 runs and the Mets will get home first.

With Coleman leading off, there will be no losing streaks like the five-game fade that opened last September---45 innings, three runs. There will be fewer dents in the big top hat behind the center-field wall at Shea, but these Mets should distribute the runs they do score fairly evenly, giving a wondrous pitching staff more close games to win; Gooden-Viola-Cone-Fernandez-Darling is still the best rotation that doesn't wear gold and green. Wally Whitehurst and Alejandro Pena will be secret heroes in the middle; closer John Franco won't wither again in September. The hurlers will strike out so many people the clumsy defense can't ruin Cashen's experiment. It'll be Franco vs. Randy Myers---whom Cashen dealt for Franco a year and a half ago---in inning ten of game one of the N.L.C.S.

Voila! LesExpos rebuilt themselves in a year. In the fall of 1989, four of their best pitchers deserted ship. Hubie Brooks bailed, too. So Buck Rodgers cobbled a Scissorhands-style creature---young legs, young arms, spare parts---that proved there was beauty hidden in the bushes. Now Rodgers, currently the league's best manager, has another surprise: Brian Barnes, the pint-sized scourge of the Double-A Southern League. Barnes, who led the minors in strike-outs, enriches a staff that was already among the N.L.'s best. Tim Raines is gone, but his heir in left field, Ivan Calderon, has been Raines's equal since 1988---and Raines doesn't do celebrity impressions. The Expos' attack, boasting three of the league's best second-year players, should build a few more leads this season. Then Rodgers, the master of tuning a bull pen, can hand the ball to Barry Jones, who came with Calderon in the Raines deal, or to spin doctors Steve Frey. Bill Sampen and Mel Rojas, and then to closer Tim Burke. Montreal is going to make a lasting impression on the East.

When a ball was hit toward Gary Matthews, who used to clank around left field at Wrigley, Phillies snickered, "Three, three," meaning "That's a triple." With George Bell in left, this may be the year of "Four, four."Cubs manager Don Zimmer has admitted that Bell is "no gazelle." He may soon think Bell is nothing but a D.H. in N.L. clothing. Bell did manage 21 homers for the Jays last year but hit only one in the last 46 games. Clubs that use their free-agent budgets on cranky sluggers and creaky arms are likely to peak early and freak late, as accusations and then punches fly, but maybe that won't happen to the Cubs. They'll have a terrific line-up, assuming that Andre Dawson's knees stay strong and Ryne Sandberg has the best year a second baseman ever had for the second year in a row. Bell could easily drive in 100 runs. Walking wound Danny Jackson could stay intact and win 20, Dave Smith could be a better stopper than Mitch "Wild Thing" Williams was in 1989 and the Cubs could confound those who say they're born to lose. After all, they went all the way in 1908.

The Pirates went to the play-offs for the first time in 11 years and hated it so much they're not going back. Club president Carl Barger and bumbling G.M. Larry Doughty won't pay what it takes to keep a winning crew together. Barry Bonds and Bobby Bonilla, the kind of young stars good clubs build around, may soon take their killer bats and killer smiles to more lucrative climes. Doughty, who seems to see good years by players as potential negotiating problems, avoided one by accidentally putting the club's best minor-leaguer on irrevocable waivers; outfielder Wes Chamberlain is now a Phillie. Manager Jim Leyland, never ashamed to weep in public, may flood the dugout.

Ozzie Smith is the only reminder of the good old mid-Eighties Cardinals. But an all-new outfield of Bernard Gilkey, Ray Lankford and Felix Jose is starting a run that should make the mid-Nineties intriguing. Jose hits; Gilkey and Lankford run, though they hit a little, too. In a Triple-A laugher last year, Gilkey had a home run and two singles, while Lankford hit a grand slam---all in the same inning. For that, I'll stick my neck out and pick them fifth.

Watch Phillies right-hander Jose De-Jesus walk three men in a row. Watch him strike out the side. Duck---he is the Bobby Witt of the National League. This year's Phils, as ever, will do a little hitting but not enough hurling.

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The Red Queen's Reds need to run hard to stay where they are. This is not the West they won a year ago. All three California teams are improved. Even the Braves, with their young pitching, improved defense and new fitness coach Jane Fonda, might stay in the race. Then there's Red Queen Marge Schott, whose flinty ways will have this team back in the second division by 1995. The Nasty Boys may be wild at heart, but their club is weird on top.

Norm Charlton smartens up a rotation anchored by Rijo and Tom Browning. With those three, plus Rookie of the Year candidate Chris Hammond and strong new middle man Ted Power taking games to Dibble and Myers, Cincinnati is set to repeat. Not wire to wire, but it is only the second wire that counts. Six months ago, the Reds suddenly woke to the fact that they can beat anyone. With that thought firmly in mind, they'll beat back the Giants and Dodgers in September.

"We should be the favorites." So says Giants prime mover Al Rosen, who knows all about the Reds and has heard all the Dodgers' talk about Strawberry and Brett Butler. But Rosen didn't only play golf last winter. Faced with the defection of center fielder Butler, he signed Willie McGee. He spent $20,000,000 on free-agent hurlers Bud Black and Dave Righetti. "We've improved as much as anyone," he says. The Giants can win the West, but they will need a couple of breaks to do it. Manager Roger Craig's pitchers must tear half a run off their 4.08 team E.R.A. "I ain't guruing worth a damn," pitching Svengali Craig said last spring, but it wasn't his fault, the hurlers spent more time on the D.L. than on the mound. This time, the pitching will be far better, and there is still that prime-rib meat of the order: Will Clark, Kevin Mitchell, Matt Williams. But there's no one to bat lead-off the way Butler did it. Steve Decker, the rookie behind the plate, is skilled but untried. San Francisco will fall a few games short of the Reds but edge L.A. for second.

"Christmas come early!" Dodgers manager Tommy Lasorda bubbled as Butler followed Strawberry to Chavez Ravine. It has been cited as an oddity, but there's nothing strange about the fact that a Giant has won the league's R.B.I. crown for three years running: For three years running, Butler was the Giants' lead-off man. Butler is the N.L.'s best run starter. Strawberry should snap San Francisco's R.B.I. skein this year. Sadly for Darryl, his home town will probably have to wait a year for another title. Orel Hershiser has had his shoulder rebuilt. Baby shortstop Jose Offerman, who wins the rookie award if the Reds' Hammond doesn't, needs more help from a second baseman than he will get from Juan Samuel. Outfielder Kalvoski Daniels has glass knees. I love the Dodgers relievers' calling themselves the "Brain-dead Heaver's Club," but the Cincinnati bull pen heaves harder and better. The Nasties are the Reds' clearest edge.

Tony Gwynn played hurt, turned himself from a weak outfielder to a Gold Glover and won four batting titles for the Padres. Last year, he hit .309 with a bad hand and teammates ripped him for being selfish. A member of the grounds crew chopped the limbs off a Gwynn doll and hung it in the dugout. For 1991, San Diego has replaced ripper Jack Clark with masher Fred McGriff and filled a gap at short with Tony Fernandez. Larry Andersen shores up the pen, allowing Greg Harris to take his razor curve to the rotation, and now that nobody expects them to contend, the Pads could come through. Hope not. San Diego invited Roseanne to sing the anthem; worse, it dissed Gwynn.

With 14 wins from John Smoltz, who would win 24 if he pitched in Oakland, "America's Team" surged from 63--97 in 1989 to 65--97 last year. At that rate, the Braves will reach .500 by 2000.

The Astros' Eric Anthony, 23, is going to hit 25 home runs but could be the first ever to strike out 190 times. Pete Harnisch, 24, will lead the team in wins once owner John McMullen and G.M. Bill Wood finish their fire sale by trading Mike Scott. Harnisch will win nine.

The Astros are "not a shambles," says Wood. Wood and McMullen are good executives. They know what they're doing. Nixon wasn't a crook. Elvis lives, the Pope is Hindu and April eighth is just another Monday.

October

N.L. East

1. Mets

2. Expos

3. Cubs

4. Pirates

5. Cardinals

6. Phillies

A.L. East

1. Blue Jays

2. Orioles

3. Red Sox

4. Tigers

5. Indians

6. Brewers

7. Yankees

N.L. West

1. Reds

2. Giants

3. Dodgers

4. Padres

5. Braves

6. Astros

A.L. West

1. A's

2. Rangers

3. Royals

4. Mariners

5. White Sox

6. Angels

7. Twins

A. L. Champs

A's

N. L. Champs

Mets

World Champs

A's

American East League

American West League

Stats

Forget, for now, Rickey Henderson's .325 average and 65 steals. What did Will Clark, Jack Clark, Kent Hrbek, Dave Parker, George Bell, Eric Davis and Andre Dawson have in common last year? Henderson hit more homers than any one of them did.

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When the Mets canned him, Dave Johnson had a .593 career winning percentage---better than any current manager.

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How bad were the Yanks in their worst year since 1912? Their opener was rained out. Their next date was snowed out. They finished last in the A.L. in wins, hits, walks, doubles, triples, runs, slugging percentage and on-base average. They trailed the majors in batting average, even though pitchers hit for the 12 N.L. teams. Their ace, who went 5--12, tossed a no-hitter and lost the game. One hitter walked twice all season; another got caught stealing twice in one inning. They played the A's 12 times and lost 12 times. Their owner, who had helped build three of the four division champs by shipping young talent to the Reds, the A's and the Pirates, was offered a two-year suspension from the game. He got confused and opted for a lifetime ban.

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On May 18, eight Orioles strode to the plate and tapped out a goofy assortment of bleeders, bloops and Baltimore chops. All eight went for singles, tying an American League record.

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Nolan Ryan's lonely critics nitpick his career .526 winning percentage, but the future governor of Texas has more than 302 wins, 5308 strike-outs and six no-hitters to his credit. He has allowed the fewest hits per game of any pitcher ever, and in two seasons with the mediocre Rangers, his winning percentage is .604---better than the Reds' last year.

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What did 90 percent of the stars of the ill-starred Senior Baseball League have in common? They were younger than Ryan.

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The Dodgers' Ramon Martinez may be the best bet among active hurlers to top Ryan's strike-out record. All he has to do is fan 200 men a year until at least 2016.

National West League