Hit-and-miss proposition

FINDING HIMSELF: A truer version of Ben Grieve might be on display, as the Rays rightfielder has gotten familiar with his surroundings.

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By JOHN ROMANO, Times Staff Writer

© St. Petersburg Times
published April 16, 2002

ST. PETERSBURG -- The word is Ben Grieve finally has found his comfort zone. Which makes you wonder who, exactly, resuscitates him before each game.

It is a curious concept, this idea of a more relaxed rightfielder. Upon introduction to him last season, Grieve appeared mostly serene and undeniably passive. Turns out, that was his edgy side.

The new Ben is less anxious. More comfortable. And, good heavens, this gentle Ben is a hitter once again.

What once seemed a reason for criticism now passes for praise. The same player who refused to throw his helmet in disgust last season now declines to pump a fist in triumph. This is Grieve's personality. It just seems far more engaging with a .605 slugging percentage.

[AP photo] Ben Grieve receives congratulations Sunday after his two-out single delivered Randy Winn with the winning run in the 10th inning against Blue Jays.

Perhaps we should have seen a revival coming. After all, it is rare to see a player so young seem so far past his prime. This is how we talked of Grieve last season.

The lanky kid who was the No. 2 pick in the nation at 18, was the AL Rookie of the Year at 22, was looking washed up by 25.

His strikeouts were way up and his production was way down. For a player who does not help much with speed or defense, Grieve was looking more irrelevant than indispensable.

Two weeks of success this April does not erase the memory of 2001, but it does provide hope there is more to Grieve than a shrug.

Talk to him about the horrors of last season -- the worst homer-to-strikeout ratio in the AL at 11-to-159 -- and he offers few explanations and zero excuses. Talk to others in the clubhouse and the picture changes.

They say trades can affect different hitters in different ways. Particularly the first trade. For a player such as Grieve, who so recently was the toast of Oakland, it was an unexpected case of being burned.

This was the organization he grew up in. He was surrounded by a familiar core group of Jason Giambi, Tim Hudson, Eric Chavez and others.

Grieve was coming off a 104-RBI season and had just signed a multiyear contract with the Athletics when he was dealt to Tampa Bay.

He went from a playoff contender to a last-place team. He went from a comfortable situation to an unknown place. He went from feeling as if he belonged, to wondering where he fit in.

"I was a golden boy there for a while. I guess I wasn't after 2000," Grieve said. "There's no other way to look at it. Whenever you're traded, either one team really wants you or the other team doesn't want you. Sometimes, it's because they can't afford you, but that wasn't the case because they're the ones who signed me before the year started.

"Maybe it had to do with me striking out four times in our last playoff game. Maybe that had something to do with it. Left a bad impression."

He says this with a bemused grin. With an invitation for you to laugh along. For Grieve, this is cutting up.

Ask manager Hal McRae about the difference from one year to the next and he agrees Grieve looks more at ease. Seems more comfortable.

Can you tell this because Grieve is clowning around more?

"No, no," McRae said. "That's not his personality."

The difference in Grieve seems to come from within. A familiarity with his surroundings and a comfort level in his abilities.

Even though he was not getting tossed out of games or destroying water coolers last season, he was letting the season eat him up.

Grieve admits to pressing early in 2001. Maybe it was to prove the Athletics had given up too soon. Maybe it was to prove something to his new teammates. Maybe it was just to prove something to himself.

Whatever the reason, he started slow and never recovered.

Grieve began taking extra batting practice and was doing so much tinkering, he had forgotten what a natural swing felt like. At the plate, he fell behind in counts because he had grown tentative, waiting to see a pitch to hit.

"For a few months there, I was pressing," Grieve said. "After a while, it didn't matter. It was going to take a miracle to get my numbers back up where they should have been, so I stopped worrying."

Which is when the changes actually began. Grieve hit .350 in his last 100 at-bats of 2001 and he has carried it over to 2002.

With four home runs in 11 games, Grieve has more than the rest of the Rays combined.

He also delivered what could turn out to be the most important hit of the first month for the Rays. Tampa Bay was in danger of being swept for a second weekend in a row when Grieve hit a two-out, bases-loaded single to beat the Blue Jays in the 10th inning Sunday.

After rounding first base, Grieve turned to head to the dugout. He was instantly greeted by a dozen teammates running on the field.

For an instant, it almost looked like he smiled.

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