BY GEOFF HOBSON
The Cincinnati Enquirer
Eric Davis is greeted by Cal Ripken and Chris Hoines after a home run in July.
(AP photo)
| ZOOM |
|
Reds General Manager Jim Bowden could tell right away his new center fielder had been in a clubhouse with Eric Davis.
"Jeffrey Hammonds is a bright guy who went to Stanford University," Bowden said about the player he recently picked up from the Orioles. "But you can also tell he's been through Eric Davis University. Eric was never the first guy out of the clubhouse after a game. He'd hang around to talk baseball."
There's a new curriculum at EDU this semester. No crash courses on colon cancer. No history lectures on the late 1980s in Cincinnati, when Davis five-tooled his way into the same sentence with Willie Mays. No nagging injuries.
This 1998 seminar is chaired by a 36-year-old baseball sage strapping the Baltimore Orioles on his back, rescuing them from a fire sale and instead lugging them to a playoff chase.
Davis is fresh off a 30-game hitting streak, longest in baseball this season and in club history, and baseball this season to fuel the Orioles' .770 pace since the All-Star break. It was a monster tear harking harkening back to 1986 when Davis was National League Player of the Month for both April and May.
And when it was over, Davis was able to keep his perspective. "What could possibly have been a letdown?" Davis asked Wednesday. "I battled cancer. There's no letdowns in my life. Every day I wake up it's great."
The great days keep rolling. A mere 14 months after they took a fist-sized tumor out of his colon, Davis is seeking his first 30-homer, 100-RBI season since 1989. He has 24 homers, 69 RBI and a .334 average. At his peak with the Reds, the 1987-88 seasons, Davis hit .283, averaged 31.5 homers, 96.5 RBI, 100.5 runs and 20.5 doubles.
Now take his 1996 season with the Reds and the 500 at-bats he's had with the Orioles the past two years and divide by two seasons. Since coming out of retirement after the 1995 season, he's hitting .307 and averaging 29 homers, 88 RBI, 89.5 runs, 28 doubles.
"I don't think I'm a different player. (The difference is) 10 years older," Davis said. "I'm more intelligent. I know a little bit more. My preparation is better. The ability to make adjustments is better."
Davis still won't pass up a dig at the Reds. He has claimed he would have stayed in Cincinnati for $2 million per year after he was everyone's Comeback Player of the Year in '96, when he returned from a season in retirement to hit 26 homers and 83 RBI.
But a 34-year-old outfielder with a balky body on a small-market team cutting payroll wasn't a good fit.
"I don't know if they will admit it or not, but they let some people sort of persuade them it was a fluke season coming out of retirement," Davis said. "I don't even know if they wanted me to sign the deal they offered. I'm not disappointed. I'm not pointing the finger at anyone. It's just a matter of them not trusting their instincts."
The Reds say they simply couldn't handle Davis financially. Bowden would dearly love to have him because of a clubhouse presence that will be remembered with Frank Robinson and Dave Parker.
Davis and Bowden believe a turning point came when he retired after 1994 with a herniated neck disk.
"I knew how lucky I was to get back into that uniform," Davis said. "If that ever happened, I wouldn't take it for granted. It becomes a business. You get caught up in that and you lose that sense for what it's all about."
But a year after the nation watched him battle chemotherapy one day and playoff pressure the next, Davis knows the cancer has made the biggest impact in his life.
He sees it with his teammates.
"It's incredible what he's done the last two years," Hammonds said. "He knows he's old, but with that comes wisdom. He's said that's what happened, the cancer has given him a whole new approach to the game. In the late '80s, he was one of the premier players in the game, and he's showing that he is again. There's no reason he can't continue."
He hears it when he signs autographs before and after games. "There's always some person that's been affected by cancer," Davis said. "They say they've been in remission five, eight, 10 years and that's inspiring to me. We draw from each other. What I'm doing inspires them and for them to comment (on remission), that's inspirational to me."
Indeed, the cancer has not only made an impact, it has defined him. Defined him in a way Eric the Red's dizzying talents never defined him. A national treasure. Founder of the Eric Davis Foundation. Spokesman for five health organizations.
His body never let him play more than 135 games in a season. From 1991-94, he played in more than 89 games only once, never hitting above .250. But he has never been hung up on potential lost.
"No, (it wasn't great). But it was very good," Davis said. "The numbers I have based on my at-bats. . . . You can compare my numbers with anybody. I missed about five years (with injuries) and it wasn't what they predicted for me, but I've accomplished a lot. People looked at me as a physical gift. A five-tool player is not common. Only me and Willie Mays up to that time. So it didn't matter. If I didn't hit 600 homers, my career wasn't what it should have been."
Davis is at peace, a decade removed from the Riverfront rowdies who wanted more. He is reportedly close to a deal for 1999 and an option for 2000 to stay in Baltimore. He knows he may be remembered more for beating cancer than pitchers.
"You want to leave with something positive. Not only getting the opportunity to lift people in the arena, but also outside the arena," Davis said. "Athletes leave people so they can talk about overachieving, or winning, or being great in your era. You want to leave them with something. If that's all I can leave them, so be it."
