Remaking Rickey

Sporting News, The, Dec 13, 1993 by Bruce Schoenfeld

Just in time for Christmas comes the marketing of Rickey Henderson.

The consummate leadoff hitter needs a team. He turns 35 this month, with lines on his face to prove it, which might be the reason an offer never materialized from some teams. Or it could be his .215 batting average after the Blue Jaysacquired him from Oakland last July. Or his quotes from two years ago about wanting to be the highest-salaried player in the game.

All Henderson knows is that the Blue Jays haven't called as he expected. No one has called. And after several years without official representation, he has signed with Dennis Gilbert, baseball's most persuasive agent. Henderson knew he would be something of a tough sell this winter despite career statistics that will surely carry him into the Hall of Fame. He says he will accept a two-year contract if it's all he can get. As for money, well, he merely wants to be treated fairly. "I don't want to break nobody's bank," he says.

Henderson's not dumb. But he is inarticulate, which can be mistaken for the same thing. The words that leave his mouth aren't always the ones he had chosen in his head. Sometimes they aren't even words. The ends of his sentences tend to be especially unpredictable.

Yet Henderson is shrewd enough to have negotiated most of his own business deals. He's also well aware that his announced intention of playing into his 40s can only happen if someone is willing to pay him. While he has seemed arrogant in the past, especially while brazenly proclaiming himself "The Greatest" after breaking Lou Brock's career stolen base record, he ha always had a finely tuned awareness of his strengths and his weakness. In his head, anyway. It just didn't always come out right in the sound bites.

Which is exactly the point Gilbert is trying to get across. "He's the most misunderstood player I've ever represented," Gilbert says.

And that'saying something because Gilbert and his Beverly Hills Sports Council partners work for some of the most talented players in baseball -- and some of the most controversial. Barry Bonds is their client. So is Bobby Bonilla. And Bret Saberhagen. And Jose Canseco. Saberhagen's reputation is in big trouble now. Canseco might never throw again.

Sitting in his chaotic Wilshire Boulevard office last week, his glasses pressed haphazardly against his face as though someone had recently sat on them, Gilbert is rushing to get out of town. He's off to a Mike Piazza benefit in Philadelphia and then Bonilla bowling tournament in New York. He's got Brady Anderson on one line and, improbably, Barbara Streisand's agent on another. But the priority at the moment is Henderson. Gilbert understands how much is at stake. "Look at Pedro Guerrero," he says. "His career ended two, three years too early."

This is the start of Gilbert's campaign to convince the world that Henderson has been getting a bad rap. In the morning he hugged a 9-year-old fan and shed tears on Roy Firestone's show. Later he's scheduled for 20 minutes of talk with ESPN2 hipster Jim Rome, which is a cross-cultural connection on the order of Bill Clinton playing sax for Arsenio. And Henderson has done telephone interviews with New York writers who can't help but stoke interest in the Bronx.

Conventional wisdom pegs the Yankees as Henderson's best fit How deep Yankees interest goes is another matter. "We have to get our payroll in order, and we have to get pitching," says General Manager Gene Michael, who doesn't rule out signing Henderson. But then Michael is so cautious he wouldn't rule out signing Madonna.

Gilbert confirms that he has already talked to the Yankees. Then, candidly, he admits he hasn't talked about very much. "We haven't actually talked details with anyone," he says. "They all want to know about his frame of mind. Is Rickey ready to play? I mean, come on. The guy is one of the best."

Frustrated, Gilbert leans forward in his chair like he wants to sell an insurance policy. Instead, he's making a case for his ballplayer. In a master stroke, Gilbert hired former baseball writer Ken Gurnick to do it with him. Gurnick covered the Dodgers for years for the old Los Angeles Herald-Examiner and did a season on the Angels beat for the Orange County Register. Gurnick sits at Gilbert's side and puts a head full of baseballl knowledge to work, spinning hard on Henderson's behalf.

Gilbert attempts to sell Henderson as a solid citizen, someone who would not pull a Vince Coleman stunt or chirp about misfortune like Darryl Strawberry, whose "Let it burn" one-liner of insensitivity about the Los Angeles fires probably cost him a job in Kansas City. And in this age of Most Valuable Players carrying handguns in their muscle cars and Cy Young winners lying unconscious on French Quarter streets, it's true that Henderson's conduct has been impeccable.

But Gurnick has the far more relevant assessment: Henderson is still one of baseball's most talented players, higher in the two-year Elias Sports Bureau ranking than, say, Joe Carter, and dead even with Juan Gonzales. "Any team that is a player or two away from winning and needs a leadoff hitter should sign Rickey," Gurnick says, "And with six divisions, there are that many teams out there with a chance to win."