No Slouch In The Crouch

"We're always communicating out there," says Henderson. "We don't say, 'I got it.' We say, 'I got it, I got it, I got it'...right up to the catch." Murphy and Henderson bumped into each other in Boston on Aug. 30 when Murphy caught a fly slicing Henderson's way. The date is worth remembering: It was the first time they had ever collided.

Outfielders who lack confidence play deep to avoid being embarrassed by shots over their heads. Not so the Oakland Three, who are forever stealing pop-ups from their infielders. "We respect hits over our heads," says Henderson, "but we don't like bloopers."

They do have considerable regard for drillmaster Walls, a fearsome-looking but mild-mannered giant (6'3", 208 pounds) who sports a shaved head and tinted glasses. "Our outfielders catch correctly, with two hands and their feet in position." says Walls, who one year played in the Pittsburgh outfield with Roberto Clemente and Bill Virdon. "Grounders are more important than flies. We hit our outfielders 50 to 100 ground balls a day. No other team does that. We're constantly repositioning as the game progresses. The later it is in the game, the more we play hitters to pull, because the pitcher's not throwing as hard. I don't think any team studies outfield defense as carefully as we do."

The fourth of seven children, Henderson was reared in a north Oakland home several blocks from the multi-sports complex at Bushrod Park. "I came over there, a short, stocky guy, and they said, 'Why don't you play sports?' So I played sports," he says. "I went out for the Little League, and since everybody else was batting righthanded, I did, too. Since I've hit .300 or better at every level, I guess I did the right thing."

At Oakland Technical High Henderson hit .716 as a junior and .465 as a senior. He also was a high school All-America running back sought by USC and Arizona State. "I told my mother, Bobbie Earl, to choose one of the two sports for me," he says. "She chose baseball because she thought I'd get hurt playing football. It would have taken me four years to play pro football, and I made the majors in 2�, so I'd say that turned out right, too."

Henderson wears non-prescription glasses; he says he reads better with them on. He also thinks melon tastes better with salt. Teammates call him Billy Dee Williams, for the slicked-back hairdo he sometimes affects, and also Hindu, for his style of dress, which includes all forms of flashy fashion. But Henderson's also a good organization man. He speaks ever so diplomatically in expressing his one complaint: that Martin won't let him run on his own. At the A's request, he played winter ball and was the Puerto Rico League's MVP. This year the A's want him to rest, so he'll study speech and accounting at San Francisco State. Off the field, Henderson looks forward to marrying his high school sweetheart, Pam Palmer; on it, he sees himself breaking Lou Brock's season record of 118 stolen bases.

That record would be a blessed event for Henderson, who relishes good press, but it might obscure his other strengths. "He looks as if he's been in the majors 10 or 12 years," says Oakland First Baseman Jim Spencer. "It's not just his ability, but his confidence and maturity. If he's not already the best player in the game, he's close."