Merry old land of Oz is engulfed by family feud

Sporting News, The, July 1, 1996 by Bob Nightengale

Please, let's put an end to it. The man should go in peace as the greatest shortstop of our generation, perhaps in baseball history.

There still is half a season to play, and it would be a major league shame to taint Ozzie Smith's swan song with constant bickering and name-calling. But that's the scenario developing between Smith and Cardinals manager Tony La Russa.

OK Ozzie, we know you're upset. We know you feel like a piece of meat cast to the dogs and that you think the decision to step aside should have been yours. We know you were angry when the Cardinals acquired Royce Clayton and you were told you would get an opportunity to win the everyday job--despite your age (41) and a worn-out arm.

But don't act surprised. Clayton is 26 and might be the second-best all-around N.L. shortstop behind the Reds' Barry Larkin. Teams don't trade three pitchers for a player who will sit on the bench.

You know he's not doing what the man said he would do," Smith says, referring to La Russa's spring-training statement that the shortstop job would go to the best man. "Anyone who sits down and listens knows it's a lie. It's things like that that don't allow you to have respect for people. That's cowardice, as far as I'm concerned. But should I expect anything different?

"It wasn't so much about my playing time as the way it was done. I was under the impression I was going to have every opportunity to do what I do. I was told that the position would be earned in spring training. And I thought I did that. I did everything that was asked of me.

"This was the most disappointing thing in my career in St. Louis." Says La Russa: "Twice to his face I told him that the other guy was a better shortstop on an everyday basis. All he's got to do is look in the mirror. And he can go out with honor and dignity rather than some kind of attempt at camouflage."

OK, enough is enough.

It's time, Ozzie, to end the bitterness. And it's time, Tony, to keep quiet and allow Smith to leave the game with honor and dignity.

These past few months have been tumultuous and turbulent for the Cardinals' organization. General manager Walt Jocketty, La Russa and the entire coaching staff braced for this mess the moment Clayton was acquired. They told Clayton to be prepared for animosity, but promised they would do everything in their power to make a smooth transition.

Smith has considered the Cardinals his team since the early 1980s, and he's not about to give up that role without a battle.

"It's been a strain on everyone," says Whitey Herzog, the man who brought Smith to St. Louis in 1982. "I know it has been a strain on the manager. A strain on Ozzie. A strain on Royce Clayton. A strain on the fans.

"But I tell you what Ozzie always helped me. I could bring him in my office and tell him what I wanted done, and he'd do it. I'd say, `Tell this guy I want it done this way, or he'd find himself on the wood.' Ozzie liked that. He liked being the king.

"He was the ultimate showman. He'd make two diving-plays a night that would make the crowd go crazy. It started to make me wonder. "I'm thinking, `If Ozzie is making two diving plays a night, how come you never see anybody else ever diving?' You realize, `That's Ozzie.'"

Times changed after Herzog's 1990 departure. Joe Torre, who replaced Herzog, realized immediately he had to let Smith know who was in charge, and he did so on his third day in the dugout. When Torre pinch-hit for Smith, the infuriated shortstop tore off his jersey and marched up the runway.

Torre told a clubhouse attendant to get Smith; he wanted him on the bench. Smith refused, and Torre passed on another message: "Tell him if he's not down here right now, if s a $1,000 fine for every inning he's not here."

Smith returned, and he got along fine with Torre thereafter.

"Shortstops will come and go," Padres right fielder Tony Gwynn says, "but there will only be one Oz. There'll never be another."

Reds manager Ray Knight agrees. "If you're talking about the total package, that's one thing," he says. "But I've talked to older short-stops like Pee Wee Reese and Alex Grammas and Roy McMulan, and they all tell me Ozzie was the best fielder they've ever seen.

If I had to pick one guy to catch the ball with my life on the fine, I'd pick Ozzie."

The immediate problem is the Cardinals' hope for a 1996 playoff berth. As long as the Smith-La Russa feud persists, it won't happen. It's too big of a nuisance to overcome.

In the broader picture, this is a man who will be elected to the Hall of Fame in five years. Hell have his jersey retired and probably work in the Cardinals' organization for another 10 years.

Do yourself a favor, Ozzie. Don't let these final months spoil the memories.

You looking at me?

The Padres have compounded their sliding fortunes by angering Tony Gwynn with whispers about a weight problem.

Gwynn acknowledges he has gained 42 pounds over the past decade, but he blew up when the team talked to him about a contract extension--and expressed concern about his weight,

"It was a slap in the face," says Gwynn, 36. "At 37 and 38, they don't think I'll be able to go out there and play every day. They aren't convinced. I've been playing the game for 15 years, and I don't know anyone who has been as consistent as I've been. I don't want to toot my own horn, but how many players do you see hitting .300 every year? How many players do you see being as consistent as I've been? Check the numbers. Check and see what other guys have been doing and what I've done. The weight is not an issue. I work my butt off. I don't have to justify myself to anybody."