Bubba. That is Daulton, who is also called Dutch. Whatever else you call him, call him what he is: the best catcher in the game. Last season Daulton, 31, became the fourth catcher in history to lead his league in RBIs (109), and he became the third catcher to hit 20 homers, drive in 100 runs and steal 10 bases in a season.
He suffered a variety of injuries in the infamous May 1991 car accident that nearly killed him and driver Dykstra. But Daulton emerged last year as a standout player, as well as the Phillies' coleader, along with Kruk. "He's the electric fence that surrounds the team," says Schilling. "Cross the team boundaries, and he'll shock you." Says Andersen of Daulton, "We're the thugs; he's the Godfather."
In Philadelphia even the Godfather isn't sacrosanct. Lynne Daulton, Darren's wife, a former Playmate, is a spokesperson for the restaurant chain Hooters, and she hosts a nationally syndicated TV show called The Hooters Movie of the Week. After she threw out the first ball before the Phillie-Cub game on April 16 at Wrigley Field, the Daultons kissed at home plate. Kruk didn't get a chance to see the touching moment. "If I had," he said, "I would have vomited."
Schilling. No nickname. But he does have a dog named Slider. "I can't throw one," he says, "so I bought one." Schilling claims to know "everything there is to know about World War II" and may be the first man in the world to compare Nazi Field Marshall Erwin Rommel with A's field general Tony La Russa. "Rommel was a lot like La Russa," says Schilling. "Well respected by both sides, always hiding something up their sleeves."
Teammates on the Baltimore Orioles and Cue Houston Astros, Schilling's last two teams, didn't know quite what to make of him. He had a great arm and terrific stuff, but he couldn't get anyone out. So the Astros—in one of the worst trades of the decade—sent Schilling to the Phillies for pitcher Jason Grimsley on April 2, 1992. This spring Grimsley refused an assignment to the minor leagues, left the Astros and signed a Triple A contract with the Cleveland Indians. Schilling, in the meantime, has established himself, at the age of 26, as one of the best pitchers in the league. He went 14-11 with a 2.35 ERA last year, and through Sunday he was 4-1 with a 2.54 this year.
Grandpa. That's Andersen, 40. "Larry is a consultant for the young guys," Schilling says. "We all want to be as screwed up as him. He leads us on a path to stupidness every day."
Andersen is the funniest player in the major leagues. For WPHL-TV in Philadelphia, Andersen has taped three segments called "Shallow Thoughts, by Larry Andersen"—a takeoff on Saturday Night Live's "Deep Thoughts, by Jack Handey." In each segment Andersen is sitting in a field, near a tranquil lake, staring into space. In one, he says, "If a visiting player hits a home run, why do they call it a home run?"
But Andersen isn't just funny. At the end of last week, he had a 1.93 ERA in 11 games this season.
Dude. That's Dykstra, who calls everyone Dude. He's the best leadoff hitter in the league, the catalyst who makes Philadelphia go. "He does everything headfirst," says Fregosi. From the start of the 1991 season through last week, the Phillies were 94-77 when Dykstra played, 72-105 when he didn't. He was acquired from the Mets in 1989 in a deal for Juan Samuel—another lopsided trade.
Dykstra has mellowed since the car accident, but he says, with some pride, "I started it all here." He was the original wild man for the Phillies, and now he's surrounded by them.