He Wasn’t Put Here to Hit Home Runs

Being a person who spends so much time at ballparks and arenas that I can tell the players without a program, I rarely bother to pick one up and peruse its contents.

But given a particularly lethargic ballgame one day this week, I opened the Padres’ program and found an interesting and insightful list of various players’ whims and fancies.

It would surprise no one, I am sure, that John Kruk’s favorite movie is “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” Or that Kruk would finish the sentence “No one knows I’m . . . “ with “ . . . relatively intelligent.”

Mark Grant listed “Green Eggs and Ham” as his favorite book and completed the “No one knows I’m . . . “ with “ . . . legally insane.” Granted one wish, Grant wished he could have been a left-handed pitcher. Maybe he should try it that way.

The more serious Eric Show listed his favorite books as the Bible and “Atlas Shrugged.” And Ed Whitson’s favorite “book” is Bassing Magazine.

Since I had been talking to a number of players about Keith Moreland, I was particularly interested in what I would find next to his name. I expected nothing either profound or frivolous. It’s not because he isn’t thoughtful or mirthful, but rather because he represents such a basic embodiment of work ethics, values and, probably, conservatism.

Moreland’s favorite movie, “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance,” is one of those predictable westerns in which the white hat becomes a hero by slaying the guy in the black hat. Its stars? John Wayne and Jimmy Stewart.

As might be expected, Moreland’s favorite movie star is John Wayne.

His favorite food? Nothing fancy. Just serve him a steak, and he is happy.

There is nothing either ostentatious or outlandish about this guy. You won’t find him wearing an earring or showing up with some newfangled hairdo. If anything, Moreland is a throwback to the days when men’s hair was not done . . . it was simply cut.

My interest in Moreland was piqued, in fact, by the perception hereabouts that he has been somewhat less than he was supposed to be . . . and how faulty that perception is.

When the Padres acquired him from the Chicago Cubs in February, the impression was conveyed that Moreland was a right-handed slugger who would split the seat backs in the left-field stands. Folks got the idea that he would swagger to the plate, hitch his pants and be a modern Mighty Casey . . . who wouldn’t strike out.

That was an unfair impression.

Instead, the Padres got a most professional professional. The more you hear about Keith Moreland, the more you expect him to show up at the stadium with a lunch pail or a brown bag. In an office building, he would be the guy who spends 10 hours at his desk and never makes a trip to the coffee machine or water cooler.

But, you ask, what about home runs? Hasn’t this fellow been a dismal disappointment? Didn’t he hit 27 home runs for the Cubbies last year? And here it is, darned near August, and he only has 3?

When I cornered Moreland in the locker room, I asked him about the home runs . . . even though I knew the answer.

“I’ve never been a home-run hitter,” he said. “I’ve said all along that the ball was juiced up last year. Home runs were up for everybody.”

In the five years before the hopped-up summer of ‘87, Moreland hit 15, 16, 16, 14 and 12 home runs . . . and that was playing in Wrigley Field, friendlier confines for long-ball hitters than San Diego Jack Murphy Stadium.

What the Padres have here, in terms of hitting, is a man whose punch manifests itself in doubles and whose consistency is reflected in his batting average. And he is equaling his career pace in doubles (he has 20) and his career average, batting .279.

A few of the more “observant” talk show savants have noted that Moreland can be a defensive liability. No kidding. No one said the Padres had acquired a ballerina. He was a bull in Chicago, and he will be a bull here.

The bottom line is that he has at least matched and likely exceeded what might realistically have been expected of him here.

“I think the fans expect too much,” said Tony Gwynn. “He had a great year in Chicago, and a lot of people expect the same thing here. In that respect, he’s getting a bad rap.”

That is especially true when it is considered that there is more to the bottom line as it relates to Keith Moreland.

“We need a guy who’s been through the wars,” Gwynn said. “We need someone who can be a leader when we need a leader. We need someone like Keith who can open our eyes to so many little things we might not think about very often, like stealing signs and the little things pitchers do to tip off what they’re going to throw. People can think what they want to think, but I see this guy every day . . . “

In other words, what you see is what you get with Keith Moreland . . . and that is not too bad. And what you don’t see makes him even more valuable.

“I just go out there every day and try to play as hard as I can,” Moreland said with a shrug, as if to say that is what a person is supposed to do when it is time to go to work. “I have some good games, some bad days, and some are rained out.”

What about the other role? What about leadership? What about knowing how to play the game?

“I had some real good teachers,” he said. “I played with an older club in Philadelphia, and I was able to learn from people like Pete Rose, Mike Schmidt and Bob Boone. Those were professional players who taught me how to get physically and mentally prepared to play.”

There is a difference between professional players and players who get paid to play. Keith Moreland, a professional player, personifies that difference.