It May Be Last Straw, but Reggie Has Decided to Stir Things Up Some

He came to the ballpark ready to talk, and ready to hit.

So what else is new?

Isn’t that the way it is every day for Reggie Jackson?

Maybe, but Sunday was different. Sunday, Reggie came to the ballpark ready to talk and hit hard . No more Mr. Cupcake.

The night before, Jackson had gone public with his new game plan: Speak loudly and carry a big stick. He told the media that his swing--the shorter, make-contact hack he’s been employing this season--was being junked.

The Jax Slash, the big swing, is back.

And the tack he’s been taking all season, not complaining about his demotion to part-time designated hitter, was over.

“They can send me somewhere else right now ,” Jackson said as he stormed into the batting cage Sunday morning. “I’m going to do it my way.”

In the bottom of the first inning, with one out and a runner on first, Jackson came to the plate and dug his back foot deep into the batter’s box, kicking a spray of dirt three feet. When A’s pitcher Joaquin Andujar got ahead on the count, 1-and-2, Reggie stayed right where he belongs--down on the nub of the big black bat. No choking up, no shortening his swing.

He boomed an Andujar fastball 400 feet, off the bottom of the center-field wall for a double.

Then, as if to symbolize the confusion and turmoil in his life, Jackson lost track of the number of outs and got himself trapped off second base.

Tough times for Reggie Jackson? Come on. The man is a zillionaire; he’s having a decent season at bat; he’s living in luxury on the lip of the Pacific Ocean; he’s heading for another possible World Series appearance.

But life is never simple for Reggie Jackson. He’s been hearing a lot of voices this year. In spring training, the voices of Angel management and Manager Gene Mauch told him he was no longer the right fielder, despite a fine 1985 season (team leader in doubles, homers, total bases; co-leader in runs batted in).

The voices of the team owner’s wife and the team general manager were whispering to Reggie that he ought to consider retiring, going out on top.

The voice of Gene Mauch was dropping hints that Jackson would be of tremendous value to the club if he would go for base hits instead of homers, keep rallies alive.

More recently, friends have been telling him, “You’ve changed, Reggie. You let the Angels push you around. You haven’t stood up for what you believe in.”

When all the voices got too loud, Reggie shut ‘em all out and listened to the one he used to trust most--the voice of Reggie.

“I’m disappointed in myself,” Jackson said before Sunday’s game. “I’ve let me down, by not doing this in spring training. I allowed ‘em to say to me, ‘You can’t play anymore.’ I’ve let them convince me I couldn’t do it, that I couldn’t hit homers, that my body wasn’t any good anymore. I’m at fault. Now I know I’m not coming back next season, so I got nothing to lose. If I hit, I’m going to say what I feel.

“I’m a part-time, part-time player. At first I said, ‘I’ll be quiet, I’ll be a nice guy.’ What’s it got me?”

Nothing, but what will his new, outspoken approach get him? In the doghouse, maybe, Jackson admitted.

“As soon as I go into a little rut, I expect not to play at all,” he said.

What about the timing, Reggie? The Angels are in first place, and now you’re basically defying the front office and the manager. You’re disturbing the peace, and you’re swinging for the fences. People are going to say you’re selfish.

“Check the book, Baby,” Jackson said. “Look it up. All the teams I’ve played on have won.”

What will your teammates say?

“Most of my teammates feel exactly like I do, but they won’t say anything,” he said. “Nobody says anything around here. If you do say something, you’re a marked man.”

These are confusing times for Jackson. Sometimes his respect for Mauch is boundless and Reggie feels he understands the Little General, and they communicate like brothers, or at least like uncle and nephew. Other times, they’re in the same solar system but on different planets.

Jackson feels unappreciated. He’s third in the league in on-base percentage. He pitches batting practice, and lately he’s been taking ground balls in pregame infield drills in order to help conserve Wally Joyner’s energy in the summer heat.

Jackson wants to help, to be a team leader, to inspire and prod the kids, tell them how it’s done down the stretch, in the summer heat, under pressure. He wants to show ‘em, too, lead by example.

One recent morning he woke up and decided he couldn’t do all that by punching out singles to the opposite field. He talked to himself, and listened, and went out to the ballpark that day a new man, the old Reggie, the guy who has socked 541 home runs.

Mauch, meanwhile, declines to fuel a controversy.

“My first reaction is that I’ll be pulling for Reggie like I have for five years, six years,” Mauch said, when told of Jackson’s remarks.

Will Reggie’s new attitude be disrupting to the team?

“Nah,” Mauch said. “One thing Reggie would rather do than talk, that’s win games.”

Jackson wants to do both, his way, and the pressure is on. Maybe that’s the way he likes it, with the heat on full blast. But Sunday, a few minutes before game time, the outward bravado was suddenly gone and the reality of the situation was setting in.

He pulled on his game jersey and said quietly, seriously, “I gotta have a good game today.”