Misters October: Anaheim's David Eckstein heads the list of players who must stand tall in the playoffs or their teams will have a short postseason

Sporting News, The, Sept 30, 2002 by Ken Rosenthal

Luke Wrenn, the scout who recommended David Eckstein to the Red Sox, recalls standing in his garage in Lakeland, Fla., talking on the phone with Eckstein's father, Whitey, offering congratulations of a sort.

The Sox had just selected Eckstein, then a second baseman from the University of Florida, in the 19th round of the 1997 draft. But Wrenn doubted Eckstein ever would play for Boston and never imagined the diminutive infielder would assume his current role as starting shortstop for the playoffs-bound Angels.

Wrenn told Eckstein's father, "He'll be able to come help out in the minor leagues, play four to five years in the minors and end up being a coach somewhere or even a manager."

"I hope not," Whitey Eckstein replied. "I want him to play in the major leagues."

Wrenn, now with the Diamondbacks, was neither the first baseball man nor the last to be wrong about David Eckstein, a 5-8--maybe--165-pound throwback who received no Division I scholarship offers, merited only a $1,000 signing bonus and was waived by the Red Sox in August 2000.

Eckstein, 27, is an ant who can't be crushed, a player who does nothing well yet everything well, the improbable motor of an improbable Angels team.

"It just shows that if you work your butt off and completely dedicate yourself, you can make it," Eckstein says.

Says Wrenn, who previously had signed Mike Hampton for the Mariners and Nomar Garciaparra for the Red Sox, "He taught me a lesson. I'll never sell anybody short who has a big heart."

Eckstein might lack stature, but he grows on people. His concentration is as rare as his determination, and his baseball ]Q astonishes teammates. He quotes rules, detects when pitchers are tipping pitches, even steals signs.

"He has one extraordinary tool," Angels manager Mike Scioscia says. "His brain."

Eckstein's hands are so small, he occasionally throws with three fingers instead of the customary two. His throwing motion is so unorthodox he can't bear to watch himself on video. Yet he makes almost all the plays at shortstop, a position he did not play regularly until last season.

As a leadoff hitter, Eckstein is even more improvisational. He has been hit by pitches 27 times, most in the majors. He ranks third in the A.L. with 34 infield hits. He's proficient at squeeze bunts, but he also has hit three grand slams and has driven in 62 runs, third among A.L. leadoff men. Oh, yes, he also has stolen 21 bases, and the Angels are 63-20 when he scores a run.

"It seems like he's up every inning," Orioles bench coach Sam Perlozzo says.

"I hate it when he comes to bat," says A's second baseman Mark Ellis, a former college teammate of Eakstein's at Florida.

Not bad for a player who never was considered a prospect, his father recalls, "except maybe to be a batboy."

"You watch him one day, and he doesn't do any one thing special to pop your eyes out," Orioles manager Mike Hargrove says. "But you watch him every day, and you like him. He's got one speed: all-out."

Eckstein, the youngest of five children, was a two-time academic All-American at Florida. His parents are public school teachers in Sanford, Fla. His oldest brother and oldest sister are attorneys.

Success is a family trait, not an accident.

"My whole thing is discipline," Whitey Eckstein says. "To be successful in the big leagues, you have to have faith in the coach. If he tells you to do something, you do it. Don't pout. That's the first rule in our house. If they ever pout, I'm looking for them. And I'll get 'em."

The no-complaint philosophy was tested when Eckstein's oldest brother, Ken, and sisters Christine and Susan required kidney transplants for a condition for which David and his other brother, Rick, tested negative. But the family outlook helps explain why a player slighted as often as Eckstein isn't obsessed with settling old scores. The Ecksteins tend to look at things more positively. "His first baseball card said that he was a 5-foot-8 smurf," Rick says. "I said, `Hey, it's a card.'"

Rick, an assistant coach at Georgia, always believed in his kid brother, played with David at Florida and today helps directs his offseason workouts. When David was in high school, he considered joining Rick at Seminole Junior College, but Rick discouraged him, saying he was too good for that level. When David failed to attract Division I interest, he tried out at Florida as a walk-on.

Before practice began in October, Eckstein received permission to use the team's batting cages and hit five days a week for six weeks. When Florida's backup second baseman transferred, the coaches needed another player at that position to participate in two weeks of intrasquad games.

Enter Eckstein.

"In a walk-on tryout, you usually take five cuts, three ground balls and run the 60," Eckstein explains. "The assistant told me if I didn't have those two weeks, I wouldn't have made it."

Eckstein went on to gain a scholarship after his sophomore year and become an All-American as a junior. No major league team drafted Eckstein that year. The Red Sox only hit when he was a senior. Whitey Eckstein believes that Wrenn only recommended his son as a favor to Eckstein's high school coach, Mike Powers. Wrenn denies that, but does it even matter?