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Klap takes a break from singing in the soft rain to finger Frenchy and Bay as the Mets who didn't care for Straw stirring things up. Then he resuscitates all his favorite anecdotes and images, like Keith Hernandez "pulling hard on a cigarette," from when he covered the Mets.
It was late in the summer of 2009 when Daniel Murphy confronted Ron Darling about the tenor of his on-air comments. Murphy said he’d heard from his parents, who’d been watching the SNY broadcasts at home, that Darling had been heaping too much praise on the opposing team.
Darling, whose Mets’ roots trace back to the Eighties, calmly asked Murphy which option sounded better: either he concentrated on the opponents, or else he could remind viewers how the Mets were on the way to an appalling 92-loss season.
Realizing he was no match for the Yale-educated Darling, Murphy wisely chose to back off. But the episode illustrated the generation gap between today’s Mets and those of the last golden era, where speaking one’s mind wasn’t the exception, but an iron rule.
And that’s the reason Darryl Strawberry ran into trouble in the Mets’ clubhouse last weekend, when his pep talk apparently offended Jason Bay and Jeff Francoeur. Both players now deny having any problem with the Strawberry, but they were first in line to complain to the team’s PR director, Jay
Horwitz, about Darryl’s aggressive tone.
When reached by phone Tuesday, Strawberry declined comment, but he’s let the Mets know he’ll never set foot in the clubhouse again. Darryl was wounded, but was nevertheless able to understand that his message – and the in-your-face delivery of yesteryear – no longer resonate in the new millennium clubhouse.
Today’s major-leaguers are athletic specimens, not to mention brighter, better educated and more socially enlightened than their predecessors. But that’s not to say they’re tougher or more competitive. Bay and Francoeur are two of the nicest guys around, but they would’ve never survived in the Strawberry-Keith Hernandez-Lenny Dykstra clubhouse 25 years ago.
That’s a point worth remembering when the Mets go hunting for a new manager this winter. Among the many candidates they’ll consider is Wally ackman, who, like Strawberry, is as old school and un-nuanced as they come. While that’s made him a terrific manager at the minor league level, the decidedly un-PC mentality has cost him job after job.
Jeff Wilpon is taking a gamble by installing Backman at Class-A Brooklyn, but it’s worth a shot. Wilpon, in fact, told Backman over the winter that he’ll someday manage the Mets – if he can stay out of trouble.
Backman swears he’s conquered his demons, including alcohol, but it’s his temper that’ll be really be the deciding factor. The real question is whether Backman can speak the language of today’s ballplayer: can he motivate the Bays and Francoeurs of the world without trampling on their egos?
Backman comes from an era when clubhouse humor wasn’t just unfiltered, it could be cruel. Strawberry once said Dave Magadan, whom he considered too soft as Hernandez’s heir apparent at first base, had, “too much sugar in his blood.” And Dykstra once taunted Kevin Elster for taking too long to recover from a minor injury by opening and closing his fist, as if he was working a cow’s udders.
“Milk it, baby, milk it,” Dykstra said loudly, making sure everyone in the clubhouse heard him.
This was a team that viewed non-drinkers with suspicion. Darling himself once said he didn’t trust any player who didn’t drink beer. And after every game, Hernandez would sit at his locker, pulling hard on a cigarette, finishing off the Budweisers that’d been placed in an iced bucket, the long necks sticking out like baby chicks emerging from their shell.
Who talks and acts like this anymore in a major league clubhouse? Certainly not Francoeur or Bay. To his credit, David Wright appreciated the intent behind Strawberry’s pep talk, which by the Eighties’ standard was fairly mild.
All Darryl did was remind the Mets they’re better than a last-place team. He roots intensely for his former team, having severed his ties with the Yankees once and for all. And, most significantly, Strawberry believed he was operating with the blessing of ownership, which hired Darryl to be a ull-time adviser and ambassador.
Strawberry believed it was part of his job description to interact with the current, the same way Reggie Jackson works the clubhouse in the Bronx. There isn’t a single Yankee player who resents Mr. October, including Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez. No one has ever run to Jason Zillo, the Yankees’ media relations director, and asked that Reggie be kept away.
It may be too late to repair the damage at Citi Field, however. Francoeur told reporters before Tuesday’s game, “I can take criticism” and denied he lodged a protest with Mets’ officials over Strawberry’s conduct. But Darryl has already moved on.
Maybe the point will be moot in a few weeks. The Mets took apart the Phillies with such ease Tuesday, it was possible to imagine the end of tailspin. If R.A. Dickey can effectively replace Oliver Perez, the rotation might have a chance to build a winning streak.
At that point, the Mets might acquire some of the swagger they’re so obviously lacking. That harder edge might come in handy, too, later this summer when it’s really time to stand up to the Phillies – who, by the way, consider the Mets nothing but a bunch of softies.
At that point, the Mets might actually get into touch with their cowboy past. For that, they might end up thanking Darryl, after all. |
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