Playboy's 1994 Baseball Preview

we pick the winners and losers, as baseball reinvents october

The college baseball coach Rod Dedeaux had a rule: "Never think. It can only hurt the ballclub."

Mitch Williams thought he would jam Joe Carter. Williams had Carter where he wanted him with men on base in the World Series' final game. Sticky jams were Mitch's specialty; he was always wiggling out of sword-pierced boxes. In the playoffs against Atlanta, trying to make a great play, he had fumbled a bunt, then nodded when Phillies manager Jim Fregosi came to the mound to say, "Take the easy out." So Williams grabbed the next bunt, whirled off-balance and threw blindly to third for a miracle out that helped kill the Braves.

A week later he self-destructed in game four of the Series, a disastrous 15--14 loss. And now, in the last inning of the last game, with the Phils up by two runs, he walked the leadoff man. Paul Molitor soon singled. It was one of those temple of doom moments: A double would plate the winning run, but a game-ending double play would make Mitch a hero.

He thought Carter might be looking for a slider. A fastball inside, then, might become the grounder to short Philadelphia needed. Williams visualized a 90-miles-per-hour fastball on Carter's hands, the perfect pitch. It could have been perfect, too, except that the pitch was so sluggishly horrid that the hitter didn't recognize it as a fastball. (In Toronto's sudsy locker room Carter would say he hit a slider; Mitch had to correct him.) He turned that flider into a dent in Sky Dome's upper deck, making the Blue Jays the first World Series repeaters since the 1977-1978 Yankees.

Now the Wild Goat slouches toward Houston. The trade is his punishment. It's also a new chance. Most things in baseball are like that. Horrible and/or terrific, as hard to figure as a flider.

The Mitchless Phillies can afford to be upbeat. They look at this year as a chance to atone for their recent flop. They are the new Gashouse Gang, a bunch of burly, unshaven, chaw-packing dudes who went from last place in 1992 to NL champs a year ago. "We may appear to be scumbags," says their Popeye-look-alike second baseman, Mickey Morandini, "but nobody ever defined what a ballplayer is supposed to look like."

Still, the Phillies define overachievement. They needed injury-free summers from six brittle regulars and 43 suspenseful saves by Williams to slip into the Series. It won't happen again. They're phinished.

In the playoffs they beat the game's best team, the Braves, who have now been the best team for three years straight. But Atlanta keeps running afoul of postseason fate, including Mitch's miracle throw last year and Lonnie Smith's brain cramp in the 1991 Series--when Smith lost his bearings on the bases, stranding the Braves' winning run forever at third.

Of course Atlanta is also the decade's luckiest team. For the last dying gasp of the 1992 playoffs they sent up Francisco Cabrera, who had batted ten times all year. He promptly singled home the world's slowest runner to send them to the Series.

So are the Braves lucky or unlucky? You make the call. But if the best team happens to win this time around, Atlanta's cleanup man Fred McGriff can start with the National League's Most Valuable Player award and spend next winter cleaning up on other honors.

The Braves are the class of the newly aligned NL East. Montreal, probably the league's youngest team, isn't quite ready. The Phils gained 27 wins from 1992 to 1993 and will surely give some of them back. Plus they're ugly and should have shown Mitch some loyalty for his 43 saves instead of dumping him for two cheap contracts. So cross them off, too. Now cross off everyone else in the National League. The Giants have lost Will Clark, and their starting pitching isn't as good as it looked a year ago. They are a mortal lock in the new NL West but should fall in the fall to Atlanta, a club so good that it has no business being 0-for-October.

In the American League, Toronto's arms are tired. The Jays survived the stretch last year against the collapsing Yanks and Orioles. Both of their pursuers are better now. The O's have spent big-time to bring a pennant to Camden Yards. Their new first baseman, Rafael Palmeiro, happens to be better than his old Mississippi State teammate Clark, in whose favor he was dumped by the Rangers. Ex-Met Sid Fernandez' twitchy motion will mystify AL hitters all year. But young arms matter more; the Central Division's White Sox have young arms. Come October, Chicago's lineup will prove a match for New York and Baltimore, and the Sox have a younger version of Atlanta's super staff, plus fearless closer Roberto Hernandez.

Give me the Braves over the Sox in the Series.

This prediction is offered hesitantly, like Mitch's pitch, since foresight doesn't go far in the irrational pastime. Atlanta builds a roster better than the 1927 Yankees and goes hungry in the Nineties because three postseasons isn't enough time for the breaks to even out. I love Atlanta and Chicago, but there's also a good chance for an all-Canadian World Series this year--a puzzling prospect for America's national pastime.

Times are changing. Already there's far less television money for teams to spend on players, and NFL-style revenue sharing among owners is coming. In a year or two the playing field will level out. Rich clubs won't be able to plunder poorer ones, as the Braves did when they snatched McGriff from the Padres to provide some pop for the pennant run. Competition will tighten. Another tier of postseason playoffs will alter the role of fortune's dice.

But even Atlanta fans ought to cheer the new system. With money spread more evenly, brains will mean more. That puts a premium on scouting and money management. Sign the best high schoolers and collegians, track their progress in the minor leagues, test the best of them in the majors, reward the best of the best with big-league security. You can save millions by locking up promising rookies and sophs in multiyear contracts, making everybody happy. You can energize a city that way, showcasing exciting young players now with the hope of pennants later.

That's how they're doing it in the baseball town of the Nineties: Cleveland. Yes, Cleveland, where the Indians' fab new park will be the hub of the city's nightlife. It hosts a roster wonderfully nurtured by general manager John Hart, who has spent three years cultivating this unit--always with one eye on 1994, the Indians' gateway to contention. Hart was the first general manager to learn Nineties-style baseball economics and act accordingly. In 1991, the year the Tribe went 57--105, he invested a few million in his best young players. He paid them more than they were then worth but less than they would be worth in a few years. When Hart stole Cooperstown-bound outfielder Kenny Lofton from Houston, his club was ready to win a year early.

Then came the news that their fine young closer, Steve Olin, and teammate Tim Crews were dead--killed in a Florida boating accident. After that it seemed heartless to play the season at all. The black-patched Indians struggled to finish 76--86. Now, though, the wound is partly salved by Hart's success. As Gateway opens, the GM has added a couple of fine old mercenaries. Eddie Murray will protect Albert Belle in the lineup. Pitcher Dennis Martinez--an actual no-fooling unannounced candidate for president of Nicaragua in 1996--anchors the rotation. The Indians, featuring a future Hall of Famer in Carlos Baerga, are poised to revive a town that has been baseball-dead for 40 years. Best of all, they've done it the right way, the smart new way.

There is new thinking all over. The Giants, ignoring the common wisdom that San Francisco was baseball-dead, spruced up their home, scheduled a host of day games and made Candlestick Park a focus of sunny afternoons. Spurning the wisdom that said free agent zillionaires flop, they wooed and won the exceptional Barry Bonds, a $44 million bargain. This year, they'll win the new NL West by a mile.

Colorado and Florida also showed how to market baseball fun. You can't go anywhere without seeing their clever designs--the Marlins' teal caps, the Rockies' purple and black. Florida cracked the once-sacred 3 million mark in attendance while Colorado, where turnstiles spin with less wind resistance, skied to the ridiculous total of 4.5 million fans.

In fact, while the Braves and Giants staged what was widely bemoaned as the last true pennant race, the game crushed every attendance record. Some of that was the result of better marketing. With the diamond-studded (continued on page 154)baseball preview(continued from page 118) Bonds and Deion Sanders bringing flash to the diamond while the Rocks and Fish get rich by losing colorfully, the game gets livelier.

Congrats also to the San Diego Padres, who had the foresight to buy a huge tarp that will cover 13,000 seats at Jack Murphy Stadium, so that the sight of so many empties won't be quite so ugly. The only better move would be a bigger tarp to cover the whole park.

San Diego surrendered too soon. Revenue sharing, the owners' latest idea to fix a game that doesn't need fixing, is coming. Not in the form they smugly announced in January--that would require a salary cap approved by the players' association, the likely response of which is "fat chance." But in some fashion the rich clubs will soon subsidize the poor.

To do so they must first increase the kitty. (The owners may have undiscovered virtues, but philanthropy ain't among them.) That means realignment: three divisions per league, a new round of playoffs to sell to TV.

Purists are up in arms over the prospect of more playoffs. The wildcarding of October (and soon, November), they say, will rob the regular season of its meaning. Of course, they're right. But the best case against it died long ago.

The regular season is long because baseball is the chanciest major sport. Unlike the NFL, where the best teams invariably beat up on the worst, baseball's Flushing Mets or Porto-San Diego Padres have a nearly even chance against the Braves in any single game. Over 162 games, though, the bad hops and bloopers that decide single games even out, leaving the cream on top.

Then comes the postseason, where short series restore the role of chance. The shorter the series that follows the season, the greater the role of luck. The game gets more like roulette, and while roulette is exciting, nobody argues after five or seven unpredictable hops that red or black is more "deserving." If traditionalists want to see champagne spewed on only the most deserving teams, they are correct to oppose a new tier of playoffs. But, in order to be consistent, they should also decry the World Series.

Since 1903 the fall classic has been the focus of the game's grand tradition, the showcase for Ruth and Gehrig and a hundred other heroes. Last year's regular season clearly identified the two best teams, the Braves and the Giants. Neither made the World Series. Yet few people moaned when the fourth-best club beat the third-best in the Series. We'll all soon be used to a third round of postseason luckoffs. Opposition to realignment will be remembered, if at all, as a blip in baseball history. It is a misunderstanding of the postseason's function, which is to make October unforgettable.

There is nothing wrong with baseball. Grumbling about the crumbling state of the game is as old as second-guessing managers (yes, Fregosi was nuts to let Mitch pitch), but so is another sure thing: No season was ever remotely like the one to come.

Check the coming attractions:

• Juan "Igor" Gonzalez, 24 years old, clubs 40-plus homers for the third straight season--this time in the Rangers' gleaming new stadium, which they call, simply, the Ballpark.

• Bonds poses at the plate, his jewelry asparkle, as another homer adds luster to his claim to be the best ever.

• Cal Ripken, Jr., the new Iron Horse, lugs his glove to shortstop 162 times.

• Ripken's Orioles bring a pennant to Camden Yards, the greatest place to play or watch a game since Wrigley and Fenway set the standard forever.

• Jim Abbott, born with no right hand, switches his glove from arm to arm as a bunt comes his way, tossing to first on his way to a 20-win season.

• A batting coach's son wins an MVP award. Not Bonds, but Griffey; Ken, Jr. has hit 132 big league homers and he's younger than Mike Piazza and Tim Salmon, the 1993 Rookies of the Year.

• Deion Sanders switches to warp speed as he rounds second base, legging out another triple. A Sanders triple is the game's most thrilling play. There will be more of them now that the NFL hero is playing every day for the Braves. Which means that when Atlanta tests its luck again this fall, we'll hear all about the secret of his success: a pair of lucky green undershorts decorated with dollar signs.

Purists say modern baseball is all about money. I say it's luck and fun. Maybe we can agree on the subject of Sanders' lucky boxers. Whether the shorts represent money or luck, they are liable to mean victory when he lands on them this fall, scoring the winning run in a fourth straight great World Series.

Of course, that's only a guess. Anyone who says he or she can scope the weird doings to come is bluffing. Ask Mitch Williams, who thought he would jam Carter and invented the flider instead.

Or ask Deion. His future's as golden as the dollar sign he wears around his neck, but in the thick of an 0-for-26 slump he summed up the trickiest game:

"Baseball toys with your mind."

They lost again. They were then (and still are) the finest collection of talent in the game, hampered only by a bullpen that stumbles in October. Rest assured that the Braves will overcome that flaw. They signed Gregg Olson, and have future closer Mark Wohlers on hand in case Olson's elbow pings. Plus they have steady Greg McMichael and erratic lefties Mike Stanton and Kent Mercker. When you're Atlanta your options are endless.

Nobody would be worried about the Atlanta bullpen if a hundred small misfortunes hadn't snowballed on the Braves three postseasons in a row. We'd all be saying how lucky we are to see this baseball machine in action six times a week on TBS. But we should be saying that anyway. Atlanta is brilliant and rich, a combination that in a rational pastime could have given the Braves four in a row this season. Instead they'll settle for one-for-four.

Atlanta is rich enough to pay Fred McGriff, the probable 1994 NL MVP, and smart enough to have gotten him for three of die lesser lights in their stellar farm system. They were scoring four runs per game before McGriff showed up; they plated almost six per game thereafter. Atlanta is also rich enough and smart enough to assemble a pitching staff that notched a world-leading 3.14 ERA while working half the time at Fulton County, the onetime "Launching Pad." Maddux, Glavine, Avery, Smoltz: The front four won 75 games. If your fifth starter and five other guys can hunt down 25 to 30 more wins, you can repel a charge as monumental as die 1993 Giants' 103-win campaign. With Pete Smith banished to the Mets, the new fifth starter might be Mercker, who is capable of 15 wins of his own. Or it could be 20-yearold Hawatha Terrell Wade (Hawatha isn't a nickname), who blew away 208 minor-league hitters in 158 innings.

Deion Sanders leads off. Now 26, Sanders is about to be a star in the more demanding of his two sports. He sets the table for Jeff Blauser (.305, 15 homers), Ron Gant (36 homers, 117 RBIs), McGriff (37 homers, 101 RBIs), David Justice (40 homers, 120 RBIs), Terry Pendleton (84 RBIs after a hideous start), Rookie of the Year front-runner Javy Lopez and solid second baseman Mark Lemke. Offenses don't get much better than that. Gant broke his leg in a dumb winter accident: dirt biking a week after signing a huge new contract. He may be out till midseason, but young Tony Tarasco is a gifted understudy. Should Tarasco stumble, Ryan Klesko--the rookie slugger San Diego wanted for McGriff--might play left field. And for infield, there is shortstop Chipper Jones, the bluest blue-chipper of all. Jones, 22, has an iffy glove but a superconducting Louisville Slugger. If there's any justice in baseball, Atlanta gets a happy ending this time.

Felipe Alou's Expos have also been close but cigarless lately. They might be the pick in another division. Marquis Grissom is an ideal center fielder. Brittle star Larry Walker has power, speed and a cannon in right. Felipe's son Moises and/or rookie Rondell White complete a dazzling outfield. Ace Dennis Martinez is gone but Ken Hill, Jeff Fassero, Pedro Martinez, Kirk Rueter and kid lefties Joey Eischen and Gabe White can hold the fort until John Wetteland storms in to save the game. And now comes 6'4", 220-pound first base banger Cliff Floyd, 21, to vie with White and Atlanta's Lopez for rookie honors. The Spos are a comer, but they seem to keep coming and coming and never quite arriving. Maybe next year.

The Phillies got famous last fall, largely because they stayed healthy. But all their stars are fragile, which probably means a return to the middle of the pack. With Williams' late-inning roller coaster a wild thing of the past, GM Lee Thomas wisely gambled $850,000 on Norm Charlton's delicate left wing. If that doesn't work out, Fregosi may try a committee bullpen. The pen will be fine eventually, with farm arm Ricky Bottalico preserving the leads that a league-best attack provides. The 1993 Phils scored 69 more runs than anyone else in the NL. But there were too many near-career years (most of the lineup) or illusions (like rookie shortstop Kevin Stocker's .324 average) to make a rerun likely.

Florida's Marlins beat the Dodgers on opening day and overachieved for three months, then wilted. Orestes Destrade, who used to hit like Cecil Fielder in Japan, hit like Eric Karros in the NL. Benito Santiago, once the majors' top receiver, was the same cipher the Padres gave up on. Leadoff man Chuck Carr, left fielder Jeff Conine, third-baseman-turned-outfielder Gary Sheffield and a thousand pitching prospects are the guys the smart Marlins are using to build a contender.

As Casey Stengel said, "The only thing worse than a Mets game is a Mets doubleheader." David Letterman has beaten the stupid Mets tricks to death, so I'll only note that Gooden is a better than average starter; Bret Saberhagen will bring some useful kids in trade; Jeff Kent, Jeromy Burnitz and Ryan Thompson are semi-stars in the making; and if the Mets fail to trade Bobby Bonilla--after jumping the gun and signing him when a year's wait might have brought Bonds to New York--and he ends up at third base at Shea, they deserve to be kicked when they're down.

After four years of Lee Smith's 92-mph fastballs, the Cardinals have their best team this decade and no Lee to save the 90-plus leads they should take into the ninth. It won't matter if Mike Perez, who inherits the closer's role, can match the quality of his tough performances as Smith's setup man. The rotation is a bunch of misers who annually give the fewest free passes in the majors. Led by Bob Tewksbury, who walked only 20 men in 214 innings, St. Louis starters keep the Cards in games by keeping men off base. Starter Donovan Osborne is hurt, but Rene Arocha, Rheal Cormier and Allen Watson are bound to improve on their 24--21 record of a year ago, perhaps with support from 21-year-old Brian "The Maglie" Barber.

The Cards still steal--second in the NL in 1993--but can now go deep themselves. Their 118 homers were only 12th in the league, but it was the most die Redbirds had hit in 20 years. Mark Whiten, whom they stole from the Indians two winters ago, led them with 25 homers, including four in one night. He grabbed headlines from the club's true star, Gregg Jefferies, who left his glove troubles at first base and hit .342 with 16 homers, 83 RBIs and 46 bags. General manager Dal Maxvill wants to deal a second baseman but otherwise plans to stick with his lineup: outfielders Whiten, Bernard Gilkey (.305 with a surprising 16 homers) and Ray Lankford (a surprisingly listless .238); an infield of Jefferies, Luis Alicea or Geronimo Pena at second, 100-RBI man Todd Zeile at third and eternal shortstop Ozzie Smith (.288, 21 steals); plus sturdy backstop Tom Pagnozzi.

This leaves manager Joe Torre the pleasant task of finding room for impending star Brian Jordan. Like his former NFL teammate Deion Sanders (both were defensive backs for the Falcons), Jordan is due for a breakout season. He's 27, the age Bill James says is when hitters are at their prime. In 1993 Jordan batted .375 in the minors, .309 with ten homers in the bigs. For now he's a fourth outfielder, but by fall he should join Jefferies and Lankford in a lineup that helps the Cards spray suds--Bud suds, please, not champagne--in their Busch Stadium locker room.

The Astros quit too soon on intermittent slugger Eric Anthony, trading him for a midget pinch-hitter and a long-shot pitcher. They lost free agent Mark Portugal's 18 wins, spent the winter shopping Pete Harnisch (16-9, 2.98) and acquired Mitch Williams to be their closer (opener?). Still, by keeping Harnisch, Doug Drabek and Greg Swindell to go with young Domingo Jean, Houston could have the Central's top rotation. Third baseman Ken Caminiti and outfielder Steve Finley are also on new GM Bob Watson's trading block. Should they depart, there'll be space for primo prospects Phil Nevin and James Mouton alongside Jeff Bagwell (.320, 20 homers), Craig Biggio (.287, 21 homers), Luis Gonzalez (.300, 15 homers) and the ripening talent of shortstop Andujar Cedeno. Watson seems determined to juggle a roster that wasn't bad in the first place; if he can refrain from making more rookie mistakes like the Anthony trade, the new-look Astros can make a run at the NL wild-card slot.

Following last year's dog and Tony show, what tabloid travails are in store for the Reds? Maybe winning a lot more games than they did in 1993, when everybody got hurt and Cincinnati finished 30 games behind the Giants, who didn't even win the NL West. But without the Giants and Braves around, Marge Schott's club has a real shot at glory in the Central. Even in partial seasons Barry Larkin batted .315, Bobby Kelly .319. Both were All-Stars. Kevin Mitchell clouted 19 homers and had 64 RBIs in little more than half a year. Starter Jose Rijo's slippery slider helped him go 14--9 with a 2.48 ERA, even with the pen blowing half a dozen of his wins. Why call Cincy the sleeper of 1994? Because the Reds were as hurt as the Phillies were healthy in 1993. Because a downy-cheeked third base platoon, Willie Greene and Tim Costo, may be better than Sabo was. Because error-prone GM Jim Bowden hit a homer when he sent Seattle a pair of deuces for potential ace Erik Hanson and second baseman Bret Boone, and because Rijo and Larkin deserve fortune's favor.

A healthy Shawon Dunston would give the Cubs a surplus at short, a rare asset in any league. Closer Randy Myers (a league-record 53 saves) and catcher Rick Wilkins (.303, 30 homers) are coming off eye-popping years. But the rotation is a mess, there are too many sub-stars jostling for time in the outfield and Chicago hitters still don't get on base enough to make Wrigley Field work in their favor. But you can't win with a couple of famous infielders and no starting pitching.

On the other hand, last year I said Myers was finished.

The Pirates expected knuckleballer Tim Wakefield to be their ace. He wobbled his way to a 6-11, 5.61 season. The club has no money: Jim Leyland may be the league's smartest manager, but his cupboard is bare. Veterans Andy Van Slyke and Jay Bell can play. They each hit .310, combining for 17 homers and 101 RBIs--a strong season for an individual. Second-year men Carlos Garcia, Al Martin and Kevin Young can play a little, too. That's about it in nearly empty Three Rivers Stadium. Leyland, who was trying to quit smoking when he had Bonds, Bonilla and Drabek, will have to chain-sneak cigs in the dugout.

Pity the valiant Giants. Nose-to-nose with Atlanta on the season's last afternoon, they lost game 162 to the hated Dodgers--a payback for San Francisco's last-game knockout of Los Angeles in 1991--and watched the playoffs on TV. Now they're doomed to a tedious new year. Since the new NL West consists of SF and three furballs, the Giants can probably sleepwalk to the West title. Their off-season improvement seems like overkill: By signing hurlers Mark Portugal and Steve Frey and re-inking Matt Williams and Robby Thompson in addition to the nearly $40 million they still must pay Barry Bonds, owner Peter Magowan and GM Bob Quinn topped the $100 million Magowan paid for the franchise a year and a half ago. Their idea is to kick some postseason butt. They may well do it with the firepower of league MVP Bonds (.336, 46 homers, 123 RBIs), third baseman Matt Williams (.294, 38, 110) and second baseman Thompson (.312, 19, 65), plus a terrific defense that also features catcher Kirt Manwaring and center fielder Darren Lewis.

Number one starter Billy Swift is hardheaded; he didn't miss a start after a line drive caromed off his noggin for a ground-rule double a few years back. In 1993 he used his head and a brilliant arsenal of pitches to go 21-8 with a 2.82 ERA. John Burkett (22-7), 18-game winner Portugal and rookie Salomon Torres complete an all-righty front four. Lefties Bud Black and Trevor Wilson will wrestle for the five slot. Middle relief is in the sure hands of Mike Jackson and lefties Frey and Kevin Rogers, who set the stage for the untouchable split-finger fastball of Rod Beck. The fierce Beck saved 48 games, whiffing 86 and allowing just 70 base runners in 79 innings. With Eck on the ropes, he is now the game's premiere reliever.

Bonds, of course, is baseball's one su-perduperstar. He crassly failed to show up to claim his MVP trophy (his godfather, Willie Mays, ran that errand)--a show of attitude that won't help his chances in next year's voting. But for each of his failings there is at least one virtue. Remember how important 30--30 feats are to Bonds? Last fall, long after his 30th homer, he had 29 steals with more than a week to go. In the fires of a pennant race, there were no good chances to steal. He put his ego on hold, stayed at first and finished 46-29.

Whether you like, envy or loathe Bonds, you're sure to see him in the 1994 playoffs.

Tommy Lasorda's happy-talk Dodgers would have had no shot in the old West. In this reconstituted division, however, they could claim a wild-card berth or even a title if the Giants collapse. Lasorda's batting order starts with speed and batting average in Brett Butler and Delino DeShields. Then comes power from the Popeye forearms of Rookie of the Year Mike Piazza (.318, 35 homers, 112 RBIs--the best year ever for a Los Angeles hitter), Eric Karros (23 homers, 80 RBIs) and maybe even Darryl Strawberry, who says his back and personality are finally healed. Shortstop Jose Offerman and kid outfielders Billy Ashley, Raul Mondesi and Henry Rodriguez add to the attack.

There's nothing too wrong with a rotation of Orel Hershiser, Tom Candiotti, Ramon Martinez, Pedro Astacio and Kevin Gross, though they're all righthanded--a state of affairs that leads the Dodgers to audition any lefty with a pulse. Jim Gott, who saved 25, is the bullpen incumbent. A healthy Todd Worrell or million-dollar bonus tot Darren Dreifort could close as well. And then there's Park Chan Ho, the second Korean player ever to sign with a major-league team. The Dodgers say Park has a 99 mph fastball, but they're being modest. Look for him next year, when L.A. fans will start displaying Ho Ho Ho signs to mark his Ks.

Pity the Rockies, too. With more fans than any other ballclub ever--giving Colorado a bursting bankroll and a chance to build for the late Nineties--Denver's darlings have chosen to overspend on veterans who might help them finish second for a year or two. Their Weiss-Girardi-Bichette-Galarraga-Hojo-Burks-Hayes-Mejia batting order looks sort of pyrotechnic, but buying it in a futile effort to contend now merely assures a decade of diminishing returns. Soon Colorado's pound of offense will fade and require a ton of cure.

The Padres signed ace Andy Benes in hopes of trading him for cheap prospects. They signed Bip Roberts, a blip of a second baseman, to keep Tony Gwynn (.358) and Phil Plantier (34 homers, 100 RBIs) from being the only Pads who earned their pinstripes. Gwynn proves that big-time ballplayers aren't always selfish. By closing his career in San Diego he'll set a big league example for a team that would be the favorite in the Little League World Series.

Three smart moves make Baltimore the favorite in baseball's heavyweight division. The Orioles signed Rafael Palmeiro to shoot line drives at the warehouse beyond the right field wall at Camden Yards. They signed Sid Fernandez to bolster the rotation behind Mike Mussina and Ben McDonald; he'll boggle AL hitters with his tricky delivery. They signed hardheaded Chris Sabo to play third; he'll double the production at that position. The O's rotation now features the league's top 1-2-3 punch. Ul-traprospect Jeffrey Hammonds completes a sterling outfield. With Palmeiro, Mark McLemore, Sabo and Ripken on the infield, with more than 3 million fans making Baltimore nights an exercise in moonlight madness, a club that has finished third twice in a row can take two steps forward.

While writing checks to his three free agents, however, GM Roland Hemond nearly lost his bullpen. He failed to resign closer Gregg Olson, whose elbow worried Hemond. Other clubs lined up to offer Olson far more than it would have cost the O's to keep him. Hemond responded by writing another big check. (Some of this cash comes from Baltimore's new owners group, which includes movie maker Barry Levinson, writer Tom Clancy and sportscaster Jim McKay.) He signed elderly Lee Smith--the game's all-time save leader--who'll be ably supported by Alan Mills and lefty smoker Brad Pennington. When Ripken surpasses Gehrig's longevity record in the summer of 1995, there ought to be a crisp new pennant flying at the Yards.

The House Ruth Built has been cleaned up for a run at the flag the Yankees used to claim simply by throwing their pinstripes on the field. George Steinbrenner talks about moving the Yanks to New Jersey--his latest obscenity--but this year his club might turn the Bronx into Fun City. New York has improved each year this decade. There's nowhere left to go but to serious contention for the Bombers, who led the majors in hitting last year. Wade Boggs, Don Mattingly, Danny Tartabull and Paul O'Neill are nobody's murderers row, but they combined to score and drive in more runs than the entire Florida Marlins roster scored. Catcher Mike Stanley came from nowhere (24 homers in seven years) to bat .305 with 26 homers. Bernie Williams chips in with speed and a little more pop, and the club took a sharp gamble by signing basher Sam Horn to a minor-league contract. But was trading kid pitcher Domingo Jean brave or foolhardy? The return was Xavier Hernandez, one of the majors' better setup men. He'll stabilize a bullpen that treated save opportunities like kryptonite. The trouble lies in getting to him. After Abbott, Terry Mulholland, Melido Perez and Jimmy Key, the starting staff could use someone like Jean. An aging bunch at the crest of its latest surge, the Yanks must win this year. If they don't, George may replace the mythic NY on their caps with NJ. That will be one of the signs foretelling Armageddon.

You know all about the Blue Jays. They had the top three hitters in the league, the first time that's happened in 100 years. They had Series megamen Joe Carter, Paul Molitor and Roberto Alomar, plus the world's finest defensive center fielder, Devon White, and shortstop Tony Fernandez. Fernandez was finished when he batted .225 for the Mets, until he rejoined the Jays and mystically hit .306 (.326 in the postseason). They dumped Tom Henke, one of the league's top closers, and replaced him with Duane Ward, the best. They didn't have a lot of starting pitching after Juan Guzman and Pat Hentgen. All they did was win and win. But now it ends. Put them in the AL West and they win by 20 games. In the hard-bitten East the combination of skill and fortune that forged their Series rings is about to run out. Father Time frowns on clubs with aging stars--look what happened in Oakland.

The Red Sox, too, might run away with the new West. They might even have won the Central, but the East is where somebody good finishes fourth. Already an ancient club, Boston signed leadoff man Otis Nixon, 35, and catcher Dave Valle, 33. Not that those are rotten choices: Nixon's speed is just what they craved; Valle is ten times Tony Pena, whom he replaces. But Roger Clemens has started to show his age. Wizened starters Frank Viola and Danny Darwin can't be counted on again. Outfielder Mike Greenwell may be gone if Boston finds a gullible taker. He hit a soft .315 and demanded multimillions for it. What the fraying Sox need is more kids like bopper Mo Vaughn (.297, 29 homers, 101 RBIs in his first full season) and rookie starter Aaron Sele (15-4 in AAA and the bigs).

Rob Deer takes his billion strikeouts east, far east, to fan all Japan. Mickey Tettleton, Deer's rival in whiffery, may be gone by opening day. Still, Sparky Anderson's swinging Tigers will give you a bang for your buck and cool you on hot nights with the breeze off their bats. Detroit's lineup--save for the underappreciated Travis Fryman--averages 33 years old. Bill Gullickson deserves a medal for going 47-31 over three years while being one of the game's top run giver-uppers, but his age and fastball are now both about 60.

After smoking to a 49--29 record in the second half of 1993 only to flame out in the playoffs, the White Sox return to dominate the Central. Too bad this team keeps getting distracted by sideshows. Last spring it was Bo Jackson's hip. So Frank Thomas used his big hurtful swing to hit .317 with 41 homers and 128 RBIs, slugging .607 (slugging percentages over .600 are Ruthian). But then his .353 postseason was lost amid Air Michael's retirement, the news of which was leaked during an ALCS game at Comiskey. Not content with that, Jordan may try to eclipse the spring training sun in his attempt to join the Sox.

Forget Dare Jordan. He has as much chance of actually making the club as does Madonna, who has more baseball experience. Focus on Thomas and Chicago's young pitchers. Even if owner Jerry Reinsdorf refuses to pay Jack McDowell $6.5 mil a year and deals him instead, the Sox are dangerously armed. Wilson Alvarez, 24, fulfilled his promise last season and has a decade left in his left arm. Alex Fernandez, 24, ditto in his right. Late-maturing closer Roberto Hernandez, 29, saved 38 games a year ago and ought to add 10 more to that total this year. This wondrous crew has been overshadowed by Black Jack (42--20 over two years). There's also the what'sin-a-name similarity of Alvarez, Fernandez and Hernandez, which may confuse some fans. Fortunately for the Sox, they confuse batters, too.

In a full season Jason Bere, 23, should win more than 12 games. If McDowell departs or anyone else falters, manager Gene Lamont can call on any of three rookie starters who are almost as precocious as Bere.

With that much pitching Chicago could win with an attack of Thomas and eight dwarfs. In fact, there are only two in the lineup: 5'8" Tim Raines and 5'8" Joey Cora, who hit a combined .284 with 170 runs and 41 steals. Center fielder Lance Johnson batted .311, swiped 35 more and was thrown out just seven times. Robin Ventura played a flawless third and supported Thomas with 22 homers and 94 RBIs; he earned his new nickname, the Little Hurt, by losing a brawl to Nolan Ryan. Beside him, Ozzie Guillen is steady at short. Ron Karkovice is the only catcher in either league who nails more than half the runners who try to steal on him. Now add DH Julio Franco (.289, 14 homers, 84 RBIs for Texas) to bat behind Thomas. And outfielder Darrin Jackson, a good bat and great glove, will prove to be a wise signing.

Weaknesses? It won't help the Sox to have a basketball player screwing around in their batting cage, stealing their thunder. And it hurts their feelings that they sell fewer tickets than the uptown Cubs. Both troubles will end soon.

The Indians are potentially fab up the middle with recuperating catcher Sandy Alomar, Jr., second baseman Carlos Baerga, shortstop Omar Vizquel and center fielder Kenny Lofton. On the flanks, first baseman Paul Sorrento quietly hits 15 to 20 homers a year, while Jim Thome may bat .300 in his first full year. Albert Belle, who socked 38 homers and drove in 129 runs, now gets some protection from Eddie Murray. The strong, silent Murray went deep 27 times and drove in 100 for the Mets. Murray's partner in free-agent banking, Dennis Martinez, has to win 40 games to bail out a rotation that capsizes after him. The bullpen can assemble a quorum but needs a chairman. The reason to think this Tribe can outrun all but Chicago is that Belle, Lofton, Vizquel, Thome, rookie Manny Ramirez and particularly Baerga are glorious young talents. After four decades in the dumps, Cleveland is due for a boost.

The royalest of Royals, George Brett, singled in his last at bat for hit number 3154. In the post-Brett era Kansas City hopes Vince Coleman can get about 154 hits and ignite an offense that often retired early. Coleman may have regressed in his Mets years--pulling his hamstring hourly, smacking Doc Gooden with a nine iron, tossing a small explosive at Dodger fans--but he's paid his debt to society. He did 200 hours of community service, helping clean up Malibu after last fall's brushfires. He is also exactly what KC needed. Vince can challenge Lofton for the league lead in steals. Felix Jose and Gary Gaetti, both sure to top their 1993 numbers, join catcher Mike Macfarlane (20 homers) and center fielder Brian McRae, the manager's son (.282, 12 homers, 69 RBIs, 23 bags) in a lineup that's bound to leap past its league-low total of 675 runs. Unfortunately for skipper Hal McRae, the rotation is Appier and Cone and reach for the phone. Unless GM Herk Robinson finds a starter or two (no easy task in the current seller's market), the Royals are doomed to lose sight of the Sox in May.

The Twins are out of money. Kirby Puckett and Kent Hrbek broke the bank years ago, and in small-market Minnesota there's nothing left for anybody else. Catcher Brian Harper, the club's only .300 hitter, cost too much and is replaced by rookie Matt Walbeck, whose virtue is that he makes the minimum wage. Even surefire closer Rick Aguilera, who makes modest millions, is trade bait. The lone bright spot among the starters is Kevin Tapani, whose 12--15 record disguised a terrific 9--4 second half. The light in the tunnel is revenue sharing, but until it arrives the Twins will have to hope Milwaukee keeps them on the cellar steps.

After making a heady run at the AL East flag in 1992, the Brewers dropped to 69--93 last year. Greg Vaughn's 30 homers were part of a lonely MVP performance. Darryl Hamilton, John Jaha, Brian Harper and rookie Matt Mieske are strong hitters, but the pitching is unrelieved horror. With Robin Yount's retirement, Milwaukee's marquee attraction is Gus the Wonder Dog, who chases birds off the field between innings.

The Seattle sound is a sigh of relief. With the White Sox gone to the Central Division, Ken Griffey, Jr., and Randy Johnson can lead the Mariners to nirvana. Only 24, Junior is a man Barry Bonds says might be "better than me." Almost as striking as Griffey's eight-game homer streak last summer--the third such streak ever--was the scale of those blasts. They averaged more than 400 feet. He finished at .309 with 45 homers, 109 RBIs and a Gold Glove for his quick feats in center. His supporting cast includes 1992 batting champ Edgar Martinez, now back at third base after surgery, slugging outfielder Jay Buhner, first baseman Tino Martinez and ex-Astro Eric Anthony, who connects far less often than Junior, but can hit them just as far. And add multitalent Jay Buhner--unless he's traded to fill some of the holes GM Woody Woodward dug during a strange round of off-season moves.

The Mariners led the AL in fielding in 1993. They were the best in the game up the middle: catcher Dave Valle, Omar Vizquel and Bret Boone in the pivot, Griffey in center. So GM Woody Woodward dumped all but Griffey. The backstop is now rookie Dan Wilson, who can't throw or hit. The new double play combo is (as a radio announcer said of the 1993 Mets) "just guys who are out there," which won't help manager Lou Piniella's top-heavy pitching staff.

Ace Randy Johnson, at 6'10" the majors' tallest man, doesn't need fielders: He struck out 308 to finish a godly 112 Ks ahead of league runner-up Mark Langston, for whom he was traded five years ago. Johnson completed ten games, allowing four hits or fewer in half of them. Nolan Ryan, who became his mentor last year, calls Johnson the pitcher of the Nineties. Johnson's Drysdale is Chris Bosio. He had a rugged year: Last spring Bosio learned that an impostor living in his off-season home had run up a mess of bills, crashed his motorcycle and stolen his fax machine. Bosio tossed a no-hitter at Boston, only to collide with a base runner in his next start, breaking his collarbone. He's back to improve on his 9-9 record. Unimposing Greg Hibbard, Dave Fleming and Roger Salkeld fill out the rotation. Woodward thinks bullpen prospect Bobby Ayala, acquired from the Reds, can be a closer. But Ayala had a 5.60 ERA for Cincinnati. At least it was better than his 5.67 in the minors.

Any team in the West could win it or finish last. Seattle gets the call because of Junior and Johnson, the league's transcendent talents.

First to worst to first? Only the Athletics can do it this season. At least they can't finish seventh, as they did in a hamstring-popping, shoulder-sagging, foot-freezing 1993, when Tony LaRussa used 149 different lineups in 162 games.

Having re-signed Rickey Henderson, who recovered from an ice-pack-frozen foot to score 114 runs for the A's and Jays, Oakland returns with a lineup that should be the division's most dangerous. But starters Bobby Witt, Bob Welch and Ron Darling are a combined 100 years old, while their protégés, Todd Van Poppel and Steve Karsay, are unproven. A bullpen starring the aging Eck and Dave Righetti boasts 527 saves and has a good shot at 528. But if the club is out of the race in August, GM Sandy Alderson will dismantle it and look to 1996. The best reason to think the A's can rebound is that nobody west of Chicago has much pitching. Passable pitching, plus some fireworks from Rickey, Ruben Sierra and Mark McGwire, would rule this division of underachievers.

Lots of folks love the Rangers, whose lone star is the great Juan Gonzalez. He cranks 40-plus homers a year with bat speed that bends his bat like a golf club.

Yes, there's also Will Clark's sweet stroke, Ivan Rodriguez behind the plate and Dean Palmer at third. But Clark isn't the hitter Rafael Palmeiro is. Pudge Rodriguez has hit just 21 homers in 1173 big league at bats. Although Palmer has power and a mighty throwing arm, over the past two years he has also been the strikeout king of America. Jose Canseco, once considered the game's top power-speed combination, hit ten homers last season. He has stolen 12 bases since 1991 while being thrown out 13 times. Texas has a strong batting order and a fine old closer, Tom Henke. Still, after the sparkling Kevin Brown the staff is just guys who go out there. The Rangers could run away with the division if the pitchers shock the world and baby shortstop Benji Gil grows up fast in the Ballpark's rookie year. It won't happen. Even in the new, depressed West you can't win with three home-run hitters and two good arms.

During January's earthquake the Scoreboard at Anaheim Stadium toppled, smashing about a thousand upper-deck seats. Since the team bus crashed in May 1992, the Angels have been a star-crossed club. California bet wrong about closer Bryan Harvey's health, lost him and spent the past winter trying to convince a lesser hurler, Gregg Olson, to take a million more than they would have paid Harvey. Now Rookie of the Year Tim Salmon, center fielder Chad Curtis, ticket seller Bo Jackson and slick-mitt first baseman J. T. Snow support a rotation that should be solid enough--until the Angels trade Langston and Chuck Finley for cheap guys. Then skipper Buck Rodgers may be forced to hope for earthquakes in Oakland, Seattle and Texas.

Cook's Picks

Al East

Orioles Yankees Blue Jays Red Sox Tigers

Al Central

White Sox Indians Royals Twins Brewers

Al West

Mariners Athletics Rangers Angels

Al Wild Card: Yankees

Nl East

Braves Expos Phillies Marlins Mets

Nl Central

Cardinals Astros Reds Cubs Pirates

Nl West

Giants Dodgers Rockies Padres

Nl Wild Card: Expos

Al Champs: White Sox

Nl Champs: Braves

World Champs: Braves

"Purists are up in arms over the prospect of more play-offs. But the best case against it died long ago."

Yer out!

"The Star-Spangled Banner"

Fungoes

Hookers

Cocaine

The Sporting News

Thanking God

Batting average

Fielding percentage

Morganna, the kissing bandit

Poker

The Eck

Tommy Lasorda, Sparky Anderson, Dallas Green

Lampblack

The split-finger fastball

Dodger blue

Pitcher Nolan Ryan

Yer in!

"0 Canada"

Visits to the team shrink

Wives

Turkey jerky

People

Thanking your agent

Slugging percentage

Total chances

Barbarella, the owner's wife

Golf

The Beck

Cito Gaston, Dusty Baker, Felipe Alou

Wraparound shades

The forkball

Deion's dollar-green underwear

Governor Nolan Ryan

National East League

National Central League

National West League

American East League

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