Lamb’s Silence Turns Into Thunder for Newbury Oaks : American Legion baseball: Quiet shortstop batted a robust .632 in area tournament to lead team into the state tournament.

He wakes up. He lifts weights. He jumps rope. He heads to Newbury Park High to run sprints, play catch, field ground balls, take extra batting practice. He eats lunch. He returns to school for his American Legion team’s practice. He goes to a friend’s house to watch the Dodger game on television. He goes to sleep.

It doesn’t make for great theater, but it’s a typical summer day for Newbury Oaks shortstop David Lamb.

“I don’t really do any exciting things,” Lamb says. “I don’t like going to parties or stuff. I just play a lot of baseball.”

He plays it rather well. At 17, he is one of only two high school players on the team, but he is batting .456. Lamb helped Newbury Oaks (27-1) to the Area 6 championship, going 12 for 19 (.632) in the team’s four-game tournament sweep last week. He has been mentioned as a possible first-round draft choice next year.

He just doesn’t make a lot of noise about it. He doesn’t make a lot of noise, period.

“Dave’s one of the quietest kids I know,” Newbury Oaks Manager Chuck Fick says. “We’ve got some rowdy kids on this team, but he hardly ever says anything.”

“You’ve got to pry words out of him,” says Gregg Lamb, Dave’s father. “That’s his personality. He’s more of a thinker than a talker. The other day I asked him whether he talks to his friends.”

“Yeah,” Dave says. “I’m quiet.”

At a Newbury Oaks practice, you can’t hear a bowling pin drop.

Fick sets the tone, bellowing an unprintable pep talk about the state tournament that begins Saturday in Yountville.

Then he mows the infield grass, while his brother Robert, the Newbury Oaks catcher, rumbles maniacally around the bases in a cranky old pickup truck, smoothing the infield dirt.

The other players chatter, razz one another, scream epithets at the Ficks and generally contribute to decibel levels rarely achieved at high schools in August.

Except Lamb. He just plays catch.

“The other guys are pretty vocal,” Lamb says. “Everybody wants to be the leader. Sometimes they fight about it. I just stick to my own business.”

Which is baseball, of course. Has been since he was 7. He played some varsity quarterback his sophomore year at Newbury Park, but he quit to concentrate on baseball. He carries a 3.5 grade-point average, but he would jump at a good offer to play pro ball.

Lamb (6-foot-2, 167 pounds) has dreamed of the major leagues since he started playing 10 years ago, ever since his father began taking him to Dodger games.

“Dave didn’t go to cheer or eat popcorn,” recalls Gregg Lamb, a highway patrolman. “He just watched the players. Super concentration.”

Lamb, a natural right-handed hitter, began switch-hitting at age 11, knowing it would help his long-range prospects. Although he is smooth in the field and possesses a strong arm, he isn’t a flashy shortstop--big surprise--so switch-hitting helps him stand out in an amateur crowd. He has felt heavy pressure to give up left-handed hitting--especially during this spring, when he batted only .297 as a junior at Newbury Park--but he has not given in.

“Dave’s a focused kid,” his father says. “He knows that switch-hitting will help him professionally, so he sticks with it.”

Lamb isn’t gung-ho, or temperamental, or moody. He doesn’t speak unless spoken to--and sometimes not even then. Before every game, he eats a banana. When the team eats at a restaurant, he orders milk. In his spare time, he collects baseball cards.

“I honestly can’t remember the last time Dave raised his voice,” his father says. “He’s not the kind of kid you have to worry about.”

Mr. Excitement, he isn’t. Lamb is a meek, follow-the-leader-type guy, aptly named. Rarely is the silence of the Lamb broken.

“I get mad sometimes,” Lamb insists. “But I don’t scream or throw things or anything. I think I just get even quieter.”

This week, Lamb found himself embroiled in a rare controversy. It appeared that if he honored his commitment to play in the prestigious Area Code games beginning Thursday, he would lose his eligibility to continue playing for Newbury Oaks beyond the state tournament.

“He’s not leaving us,” Robert Fick said. “No way. He can’t leave us. He’s a dead man if he leaves.”

As it turns out, Lamb’s life is not in danger. According to American Legion commission Chairman Harold Hall, Lamb would be eligible to participate in the Legion regional tournament and World Series as well as the Area Code Games, because the dates do not conflict.

But Lamb didn’t know that.

On one hand, he had to think about his career, about getting exposed to the right people. On the other hand, he had to think about his team, about a rare chance to win it all. He was stumped.

“It’s a tough decision,” Lamb said. “The guys are all getting on me, telling me I’m a bum if I leave.”

Lamb shook his head, lost in thought. A teammate broke his reverie: “Hey, Smelly, when are you going to wash your wristbands?”

The Lamb chop drew no response. Another teammate walked over: “Hey, gimme some gum!” Lamb flashed the don’t-have-any signal, but didn’t reply.

“I don’t know,” he repeated. The discussion had reached an impasse. There was nothing more to say, which he was the first to realize.

Lamb shrugged apologetically, picked up his glove and ran out to his position.