Gary Sheffield wants it all in Atlanta; Braves outfielder would like to play until he's 40, win another World Series and add Hall of Fame credentials to his major league career - American Baseball League - Statistical Data Included

Baseball Digest, July, 2002 by Thomas Stinson

GARY SHEFFIELD, WHO WOULD BE pressed to find Cooperstown on the map and still doubts its merits, now wants to earn his own place there.

He once planned on retiring from baseball at age 30, said he was drawn to the game only "because it came so easily that I just played it." Yet at age 33, he says he wants to play at least until he is 40, when he reaches 500 home runs. Or even 600.

"I've gotten this far," said Sheffield, who had 318 lifetime homers through April 29. "I'm not a guy who goes halfway at anything."

The same man who shook the Los Angeles Dodgers like a rag doll with a stunning extended tantrum after he felt betrayed, insists the Atlanta Braves organization is where he always wanted to be, where he wants to finish his career, where he knows there will be a happy ending.

Charged with petulance, duplicity and detachment at different stages of his career, no Braves player was more accommodating and forthright during spring training. Angered (in part) that the Dodgers would not treat him as the star he was, he embraces his new club for treating him merely like the next guy.

"I thought there were a lot of things built around certain players here. But it's built around a team," he said. "They make sure everybody is comfortable as an equal. I noticed that right away."

Such a wobbly stack of contradictions might have toppled long ago. But that has been Gary Sheffield's life, a sequence of one-act plays, each unrelated to the next. Found God one night while dining at a Denny's in Melbourne, Florida. Victim of a random shooting--miraculously in his non-throwing shoulder--while driving to the barber shop in his old Tampa neighborhood.

Revered during his playing days in Florida and San Diego. Vilified in Milwaukee and Los Angeles. Sheffield will stand and deliver when asked any question about any of this, articulate, his eyes riveted to his questioner. Which is not to say there is a total understanding. That may not be possible. "He's going to keep his distance," hitting coach and friend Terry Pendleton said. "You're not going to get to see all of him. You may see a little bit of Gary Sheffield, but you're not going see the real and the all of him."

He says he went to Atlanta to win some World Series, to finish his career, to build a home and live out his life. He has envied the Braves for the constancy of their 10 division titles, the buttoned-down environment, for manager Bobby Cox, whose respect Sheffield has worked to cultivate the past several years.

Sure, this could indeed be the start of something very big. Braves general manager John Schuerholz said the trade, sending Brian Jordan and Odalis Perez to Los Angeles last January 15, was the most involved deal he had made in 21 years as a GM.

Yet, because he is Gary Sheffield, a significant portion of fandom waits to see what happens before the fall. For whatever credit he might earn with his new team, others wait for the opportunity to assign blame. He knows that. And he relishes his opportunity in 2002 to prove himself again.

"Anybody who knows me knows I don't lie," Sheffield said. "That's what gets you in trouble."

A hitter to avoid

The swing simply should not work.

The 60-degree bat waggle while tracking the delivery ought to decrease bat speed. Sheffield also glides into the pitch, instead of planting his feet and waiting on it. The stance is more than wide, almost protective, as if he comes to the plate each time with two strikes.

But hitting instructors long ago quit trying to straighten out ,Sheffield. Self-taught, he is also self-analytical. The stance, for instance, he adapted himself.

"That stance he uses now, he only used occasionally when he had two strikes on him," said Florida manager Jeff Torborg, who first saw Sheffield while managing the Chicago White Sox in 1989. "So I told our guys, `Get him out before he gets two strikes. When he stands upright, we got him.' But the minute he starts spreading out, we couldn't get the sucker out."

Sheffield has surpassed 30 home runs just five times, but he has done so in each of the past three years. Exactly the same for 100 RBI. This is explained partly by injury: Sheffield was on the disabled list six times in his first nine seasons but only once since 1997.

But there is also no denying that even at age 33, Sheffield only recently matured as a hitter. Except for 1992, when he paced the N.L. in average (.330) and total bases, he has never been a league leader. Yet, in his three full years with L.A., he was only the third Dodger in history (after Mike Piazza and Raul Mondesi) to string together three straight 30-home run seasons.

Although he held a manageable .273 career average against Atlanta, the Braves avoided him when they could.

"You can see it in his eyes, that he's there to hit," pitcher Greg Maddux said. "You never see him lose his focus or concentration. You can see he's locked in on every pitch. So, if you can, you don't pitch to him."

Sheffield enters the season after a life-changing experience with Barry Bonds in January. Bonds, baseball's new single-season home run king, invited Sheffield to his home to introduce him to the training and diet regimens that have altered Bonds' career. In the process, Sheffield became enlightened about his place in the game and how he might be remembered.