Detour to Mound Got Hoffman to the Majors Quicker : Baseball: Former Savanna High player went from being a poor shortstop to a hard-throwing pitcher.

Trevor Hoffman did more than his part to make sure a few teal caps were afloat in the sea of Dodger blue at Dodger Stadium the last couple of nights. The Florida Marlins’ pass list overflowed with his family and friends.

“It’s the same as 10 years ago when Glenn came through Anaheim with the Red Sox for the first time,” he beamed.

Following in his older brother’s footsteps again? Isn’t this what almost got him bounced out of baseball in the first place?

Like his brother, Glenn, who played for Boston, the Angels and the Dodgers, Trevor was always a shortstop. He was a shortstop at Savanna High, Cypress College, the University of Arizona and in the Reds’ minor league organization. Trouble was, this Hoffman couldn’t hit a breaking pitch and his fielding was erratic. Bad bat, bad glove. Not a great combo for a shortstop.

He did, however, have the best arm in town, so the Reds suggested he try pitching.

Now he dyes his glove and cleats black, listens to heavy-metal rock, wears a goatee, pulls his hat so low on his forehead his eyebrows don’t show, scowls a lot and flings fastballs at speeds approaching 100 m.p.h. From mild-mannered infielder to rebel relief pitcher, the transformation is complete. And the monster is on the mound.

The first time the Dodgers saw him, Hoffman was making his big-league debut. He punched out Eric Davis with the bases loaded. A week later, Barry Bonds managed a dribbler to first with a runner on and the Marlins leading by two. Hoffman gave up one hit in his first nine innings.

Monday, after Bryan Harvey had left the Marlins to be with his hospitalized father, Hoffman was elevated to stopper status. He responded by retiring the Dodgers in order in the ninth inning as Florida won, 5-3. He picked up his second save and lowered his earned-run average to 3.12.

Call him a converted shortstop no more.

A HUMBLE BEGINNING

Actually, it was Scott Pickler, Hoffman’s coach at Cypress College, who was the first to get him to toe the rubber since his days as a Little Leaguer.

Hoffman threw the ball hard.

The batters hit it harder.

“I threw seven or eight pitches and almost all were either hit over the wall or for extra bases,” Hoffman said.

A few years later, when he was hitting .212 at Class-A Charleston (W.Va.) and the Reds suggested he try pitching, community college line drives bounced in his head. But he wasn’t exactly in a position to bargain.

“They said you can’t hit the slider and you can’t catch ground balls, so how do you feel about pitching?” Hoffman said. “I didn’t feel like turning in my glove and cleats just yet. I gave it a shot.”

So Hoffman cranked up and cut loose. In 1991, his first year as a pitcher, he averaged 14 strikeouts per nine innings. Last year at triple-A Nashville, he averaged nine and had at least one strikeout in 43 of 48 appearances. But his ERA was 4.27 and the Reds, with a talented and deep bullpen, decided not to protect him in the expansion draft.

The Marlins--who invested the eighth overall pick in a rebuilt shortstop--and Hoffman, are glad they did.

“The kid has a very good arm, a good solid delivery and he’s working hard, so the future is bright,” said pitching coach Marcel Lachemann, who held the same position with the Angels for nine years before this season. “He’s shown a lot of poise for a guy with his experience and he’s got command. He’s not wild.

“He’s been everything we hoped for and more, but we’re just taking it slow and trying not to put any unwarranted expectations on him.”

But Hoffman feels the pressure, anyway. After all, he’s rocketed from struggling minor league infielder to struggling minor league pitcher to set-up man for one of the major league’s premier closers in less than three years. And he’s still a bit dazed by the flight.

“I was just in the right spot at the right time,” he said. “I was kind of on the verge with Cincinnati, but I didn’t have a real great year so they weren’t sure what to do with the protection thing. I lucked out and got to go with the Marlins, then had a decent spring and here I am.

“The first couple of appearances, I was really, really nervous. But I had a couple of decent innings and you start feeling like you kind of belong. But it’s still sinking in.”

A FRESH PRINCE?

Hoffman didn’t start pitching until he was 23. His father, Ed, the famous singing usher of Anaheim Stadium national anthem fame, would not let his sons pitch after Little League. And the Marlins figure the senior Hoffman’s philosophy has to bode well for his son’s future.

Veteran knuckleballer Charlie Hough, while professing absolutely no grasp of medical science, puts his homespun spin on his rookie teammate and the Fresh Arm Theory: “A good arm is a good arm and he’s got a good arm. Some kids you already see going backward a little at his age. I’m no expert, but you know one thing, he has not yet ruined his arm, let’s put it that way.”

Cincinnati reliever Rob Dibble says he expects Hoffman to continue throwing harder until he’s consistently lighting up triple digits on the radar gun. But Hoffman learned very early in his pitching career that a great fastball will only get you so far.

“I started to find that out in A-ball,” he said. “If you just throw heat, they’ll start turning that fastball back around at you sooner or later. I think the key to my success right now is that I’m getting my slider over for strikes and I’m confident I can throw it in the zone. Before, I’d just throw it and if it was a strike, it was like, ‘Yeah, great.’

“I’m confident in my curve and changeup, too, but I’m starting to get in situations now where the game is on the line and I don’t want to get beat with a changeup in that situation. These guys don’t miss too many mistakes.”

Note to National League hitters: If No. 51 takes the mound in the ninth inning, count on facing the flame and fury.

A MEAN ACT

Don’t let it get back to the Little Leaguers of South Florida, but Trevor Hoffman is really a very nice, polite, even--this will make them gag on their bubble gum--romantic young man.

He’s always willing to make time for the media and is self-effacing and introspective during interviews. He took a professionally-made sign to the Super Bowl asking his fiancee, a Buffalo Bill cheerleader, to marry him. And then went to the edge of the field and proposed, on one knee with ring in hand.

But what about the fierce-looking beard?

“The Reds wouldn’t let us have facial hair and I just wanted to see what it looks like. It’s still missing a little patch over here. I’ve been growing it since spring training and it still hasn’t filled in, I’m embarrassed to say.”

What about dyeing everything black?

“It just looks cool.”

OK, what about the low-riding cap?

“I’ve always worn it that way, even when I was a shortstop. It keeps the glare of the lights out of your eyes.”

Clearly, however, Hoffman has embraced the emotional lifestyle of a relief pitcher.

“I wasn’t able to handle the day-to-day thing of pro ball as an everyday player,” he said. “I had trouble coming back from an 0-for-4 day with an error. You have to be even-keeled to be an everyday player. You have to pace yourself emotionally and that was always hard for me.

“This is different. A reliever just needs to summon up intense focus for a short period of time and it’s OK to be real keyed up. I can adapt to this, just come in once every couple days and really air it all out.”

The Marlins like the way he’s adapting, that the rumor they plan to trade Harvey, who’s making about $4 million this year, to a contender down the stretch rampages.

“I don’t think they will trade him and I sure hope they don’t,” Hoffman said. “I like him. He’s good people and he’s a nice crutch for me. There’s a lot of pressure in trying to close out games at this level and it’s great for me to be able get mound experience without having to pitch in the ninth. I’d be happy throwing in front of him for awhile.”

Hoffman also wouldn’t mind spending some time with Harvey next spring, learning to throw a forkball. If he could add a split-finger pitch that’s half as nasty as Harvey’s, he could go from the major league minimum to millionaire quicker than a Trevor Hoffman fastball.