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Somebody's Boone-doggle? Seattle star heading into free agency with playoff swoon
Updated: Thursday October 18, 2001 4:04 AM
SEATTLE -- You are the general manager of a major league baseball team. You have money to burn and a Mike Lansing -sized void at second base. Bret Boone is a free agent. What do you do? Boone has enjoyed one of those seasons -- a .331, 37 homer, 141 RBI humdinger of a career breakout. If he doesn't win the MVP award, it'll only be because Oakland's Jason Giambi was a tad better and/or Seattle teammate Ichiro Suzuki was a tad more pizzazzy (not a word, folks. But you get the idea). He was an All-Star starter with a Gold Glove-caliber mitt and Lincoln-like leadership skills. When a teammate needs some harsh words, Boone's the man. When a teammate needs a kind pat, Boone's the man, too. He's everything you could possibly desire. And yet ... Here is Boone, in the American League Division Series against Cleveland, hitting .095 and appearing about as peppy as a grandmother on Snooze-Dose Advil. Chasing high fastballs as they soar out of the zone. Taking pitches he should jump on. Making Bartolo Colon look like Cy Young and turning C.C. Sabathia into Tom Seaver . And here was Boone on Wednesday, in the Mariners' uninspired 4-2 loss to the Yankees in Game 1 of the ALCS, going 1-for-3 with a soft single and a could've-been-a-K walk.
Boone's worst moment was one most people either missed or ignored. In the top of the fourth, Yankees leadoff hitter Chuck Knoblauch lined a shot into the left-field corner. Jay Buhner 's throw was a good one. Boone caught the ball, turned and tagged-high. High? Bret Boone doesn't make high tags. Does he? Numerous times the past few days, Boone, 32, has insisted that he is not tired or worn down or bored or sagging or engrossed by Blossom reruns. "I felt better today at the plate than I have recently," he said after the loss. "I was seeing the ball a little better. But you look up and down at their roster of starting pitchers, and it's a group that gives you fits." On Wednesday, it was left-hander Andy Pettitte , whose eight-inning, three-hit, seven-strikeout, one-run gem is another piece of china in the cabinet of a stud postseason ace. In the course of a seven-year career, Pettitte has become the modern Bronx answer of Ron Guidry -- a dirt-rugged lefty with a Louisiana drawl and a bank robber's guile. He is 9-5 with a 3.96 ERA in 21 postseason starts. In his past 11 playoff appearances, the Yanks are 10-1. "Andy is special in that he never pitches you the same way twice," said Boone. "Most guys have a pattern of success against you, and they stick to it. Not Andy. You can't really go in with an idea of what he'll throw. He has the cutter, the two-seam, the curveball, the changeup. You don't know what's coming." With Boone, a similar thought applies. What's coming? He will be 33 next season, an age when men like -- pick a second sacker, any second sacker -- Carlos Baerga , Damaso Garcia , Steve Sax and Tommy Herr began their declines. Before 2001, his career high for homers was 24. He had never driven in 100 runs, never batted above .300. Is the real Bret Boone the one who terrorized AL West pitchers? Is the real Bret Boone the one who was terrorized by Pettitte? A guarantee: Someone will spend insane wads of cash to find out.
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