Bronx Zoo 2003

Wells makes sure Yankees' manic legacy lives on

TAMPA, Fla. -- Some athletes, believe it or not, never get into trouble. There are others, the clever ones, who get into and out of trouble before the paper hits the driveway in the morning.

David Wells is neither. Never has been. Never will be.

Wells is another type altogether, a type we know all too well. They're the ones that trouble seems to seek out, just so it can follow them around all day and cause headaches. And if it's not following them, these athletes are the ones that grab trouble by the collar and pull it along for a ride.

They're outrageous, you know? They're loose cannons. They're colorful. They're characters. They're always good for a couple of yuks around the locker room, maybe some tsk-tsking on the side. They're almost always good for a few pithy headlines.

Sometimes, yeah, they can be distractions, too. Pains in the butt. Idiots. They're cancers. It's a fine line these guys walk.

Wells, the burly left-hander for the New York Yankees, is in there somewhere. Always somewhere. He's a tattoo-toting, late-night drinking, fight-in-a-diner, name-calling, back-turning controversy waiting to happen. When you deal with Wells, you deal with that. All of that.

The Yankees know this, of course. They have for a long time. They knew it years ago, when they first signed him, and they found out again when owner George Steinbrenner forged a deal with the pitcher before the 2002 season. Wells reneged on a handshake agreement with the Arizona Diamondbacks that day to sign a two-year deal with the Yankees. That should have told them something.

Wells has a history, you see. In his one miserable year with the Chicago White Sox, a 2001 season cut short by back surgery, he criticized injured teammate Frank Thomas, suggesting that the Big Hurt wasn't really hurt that badly at all.

"If you don't have the guts to be out there," Wells said on his radio show in Chicago, "you know what, you don't need to be here." A few days later, it was a revealed Thomas had a torn triceps muscle. He was out for the season. Ooooops.

(On a side note: Why do we insist on putting microphones and notepads in front of these guys?)

Last September, he got into a rather cliché fight in a New York diner. At 6 a.m. We can safely assume that he wasn't getting up and heading out for breakfast. Back in 1997, Wells and Steinbrenner engaged in a shouting match in the clubhouse that, according to some, almost became a fistfight.

Now the new stuff. According to Wells' recently penned autobiography (ON SALE SOON!), the one that has sparked his latest bout with trouble, Wells says that he was "half drunk" when he pitched a perfect game for the Yankees back in 1998. He writes that maybe 40 percent of baseball players use steroids. He takes a poke at teammate Roger Clemens. He probably says a lot of other stuff, too.

It's hard to tell what's the truth, what's silly bravado and what's just plain BS. He's already backed off from the half drunk thing. He's revised his estimate of steroid usage. He's talked to Clemens and apologized to the rest of his teammates. That's Wells. It's always been Wells.

What we're saying here is that, yes, Wells has a history. And the Yankees know that better than anyone.

So why are they talking about disciplining the man they call Boomer?

For sullying the reputation of the mighty Yankees?

Half of the Yankees' storied history consists of the types of stories Wells is living and spinning. Stories of drinking and fighting and womanizing. Stories of outrageous days and nights by bigger-than-life people. Reggie Jackson. Billy Martin. Babe Ruth. Mickey Mantle. Go down the list. Reel off the stories.

This spring, shortstop Derek Jeter had to defend his rather tame lifestyle after Steinbrenner questioned his work ethic. The Yankees have Japanese slugger Hideki Matsui in camp, a man known as "Godzilla," whose every move is recorded by a throng of Japanese media. They have a Cuban defector in camp, pitcher Jose Contreras. Then there's Wells.

This is nothing new. It's just a new year. The Bronx Zoo 2003.

Yankees general manager Brian Cashman says he wants to read Wells' book before deciding if the player should be disciplined. Baseball commissioner Bud Selig is looking into it, too. The New York papers are all over the story. The book already is undergoing rewrites.

Wells is trying to sidestep all the trouble but, at this point, he shouldn't even try. Trouble finds him, or he goes looking for it. That's just the way he is.

That's just the way the Yankees are, too.

John Donovan is a senior writer for SI.com.

Comments? To e-mail Donovan, click here.

 

Related information

Stories

New York Yankees Spring Training Preview Donovan: Can hitters carry the Braves?

Multimedia

Visit Video Plus for the latest audio and video