Alomar pouted, but could play

Alomar pouted, but could play
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Paul Hoynes
Plain Dealer Reporter

Lou Whitaker was the first second base man I saw turn a real big-league double play. It happened on a Sunday afternoon at old Cleveland Municipal Stadium late in a game the Indians were threatening to win.

Whitaker, with runners on first and second base and one out, took a throw from shortstop Alan Trammell. With almost no movement, and his back toward the runner bearing down on him, he stepped on second, pushed himself into the air and became a tiny tornado, twisting above the base before making a throw to first to end the inning.

Doc Edwards, who managed the Indians at the time, pointed out the play after the game. I'd never seen any of his Indians do it because they couldn't.

In a season, outs can look the same game after game. When they are made differently, when someone swerves left instead of right, it leaves an imprint.

In 1983, my first year on the beat, the Indians acquired veteran second baseman Manny Trillo from Philadelphia as part of the Von Hayes trade. Trillo, who'd won three Gold Gloves with the Phillies, did not want to be an Indian and played like it.

He still had his moments.

In a Cactus League game at Hi Corbett Field in Tucson, Ariz., with a runner on second and one out, Trillo moved in a couple of steps and motioned to Toby Harrah to move closer to third base. On cue, the next batter sent a sharp grounder to Trillo. He could have gone to first for the easy out, but instead he went to third. The runner was out by 15 feet.

Whitaker's double play and Trillo's throw to third -- a play I have not seen since -- were my two best memories of second base play until the Indians signed Robbie Alomar as a free agent before the 1999 season. I thought I knew everything there was to know about the best second baseman I've seen.

His duels against the Tribe's Carlos Baerga -- the two Puerto Rican second basemen competed for supremacy of their island every time they played -- were riveting. I saw Alomar help Toronto win consecutive World Series in 1992 and 1993. I saw him spit in umpire John Hirschbeck's face on Sept. 27, 1996, when he played for Baltimore. Alomar then helped the Orioles upset the Indians in the first round of the postseason even though Cleveland fans believed he should have been suspended for the spitting incident.

But nothing prepared me for watching Alomar every day for three years. Not only did he have the ability to do everything required of a baseball player, he actually did it. Here are his Cleveland stats:

1999: .323 batting average, 24 homers, 120 RBI, 138 runs, 37 steals

2000: .310, 19 homers, 89 RBI, 111 runs, 39 steals.

2001: .336, 20 homers, 100 RBI, 113 runs, 30 steals.

1999-2001: Won three straight Gold Gloves.

Alomar could have won the AL MVP award in each of those years. He might have been the best all-around player in baseball in that time frame.

Yet he never seemed happy. He wore a rosary around his neck and had a picture of the Virgin Mary in his locker. He was moody and petulant and, like everyone else, loved to second-guess the manager.

When the opposition pushed Alomar off the plate or knocked him down, he complained to reporters that his manager and teammates weren't protecting him. When Indians reliever Steve Karsay hit one of the Cincinnati Reds in retaliation for Alomar getting hit, he complained that Karsay didn't hit the other player hard enough. It sparked a locker-room argument between Alomar and his older brother, Sandy.

Alomar and shortstop Omar Vizquel, two of the best defenders of their era, worked in frosty perfection on the field. Off the field, they barely spoke.

Was Robbie Alomar a spoiled brat in the clubhouse? Perhaps. A close second to perfection at second base? Definitely.

To reach this Plain Dealer reporter:

phoynes@plaind.com, 216-999-5158.

Best Indians second baseman (after Robbie Alomar) -- Carlos Baerga.

Best of the rest: Frank White, Lou Whitaker, Ryne Sandberg, Craig Biggio, Willie Randolph, Bobby Grich, Jeff Kent, Chuck Knoblauch, Alfonso Soriano.