ROOKIE INFLUENCE

The Angels no longer act as if they’re emotionally impaired, which is not to say they’re cured.

But, they’re recovering.

They are learning to live with each other, maybe even like each other, a process made simpler by a few new faces and a wholly unexpected pennant race.

And, while rookies Adam Kennedy and Bengie Molina lack the influence or desire to drive the disposition of a major league clubhouse, they may have had an inadvertent hand in the transformation.

Having them around may have reminded some veterans that they, too, were once enamored of baseball, and not distracted by who managed them or which coach was mean to them or which outfielder was a little too dramatic or which first baseman wouldn’t throw down with them.

Maybe they merely wearied of lugging around the stone tablets that detailed who was with them and who wasn’t.

And just chose to, you know, play ball.

They’ve thrown away enough baseball seasons already, haven’t they? They’ve killed the primes of enough careers. Their last two field managers quit. Their last general manager quit. The crowds thinned. Their own careers slipped away. Personal achievement and postseason appearances seemed as unlikely as ever.

Then the rookies came, Kennedy to second base and Molina to catcher. They came to play and to learn, and if there were any smoldering issues, they have been of no concern to them.

“I just think about trying to continue, to keep going,” Molina said after his dynamic first half.

They move almost invisibly in a place once known for its darkness, in terms of mood and wattage.

And yet, after all those years of Gene Autry having Richard Nixon visit, it’s done the Angels well to have a Kennedy in the clubhouse.

He can be found at his locker along the left wall, his folding chair rotated just enough to the left to allow him to view the television, but not so much to suggest total ease. The second baseman has a tattoo on his chest that reads, “Kennedy.” It lacks only “HI! MY NAME IS” above it.

“He’s a tough guy,” first base coach Alfredo Griffin said. “He’s real tough. That’s what he relies on out there.”

Molina also is along the left wall, 30 feet closer to the manager’s office, probably by design, knowing the manager and his affinity for fellow catchers. Molina’s chair is pulled close to his locker, so when he leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees his head disappears into it.

“It’s not flash,” bench coach Joe Maddon, also a former catcher, said of Molina, “but it’s really solid.”

In a remarkable statistical coincidence, they stood in the Angels’ Opening Day lineup with identical big-league numbers: 33 games, 102 at-bats, 26 hits, a .255 batting average and one home run.

As it turned out, it was the day they initiated their candidacies for American League rookie of the year, a half-done competition that also includes Oakland outfielder Terrence Long, Seattle closer Kazuhiro Sasaki, Kansas City outfielder Mark Quinn and, marginally, Cleveland outfielder Russell Branyan.

Molina is batting .281 and has handled the bulk of the catching. He has 12 home runs, more than he hit in any professional season, and 49 RBIs.

Kennedy, acquired with Kent Bottenfield from St. Louis in the Jim Edmonds trade, is batting .283, .314 (58-185) since June 1.

“I don’t think they’ve exceeded expectations,” Manager Mike Scioscia said. “But, I don’t think you can ask more from them.

“These guys are playing like veterans at a very young stage of their development.”

The Angels haven’t had a comparable rookie duo since 1993, when Tim Salmon and J.T. Snow arrived. Salmon was rookie of the year.

The new candidates claim not to have given thought to the award.

“Not at all,” Kennedy said. “There’s a lot more things that are pressure in life. People who expect me to be rookie of the year, that’s not it. That’s not one of them.”

Kennedy then pointed a finger at Molina, half a clubhouse away.

“This dude right here,” he said, “how can people overlook him? He’s catching every day, handling our pitching staff, different pitchers all the time, with guys going on the disabled list. He’s still handling them and hitting in a huge spot in the lineup, behind all the big guns. He’s doing something that really stands out in my eyes.”

Molina smiled and shook his head.

“My pressure,” he said, “is in winning games. I don’t waste my pressure on anything else.

“It is exciting. But, if you get caught up thinking about that, then your mind gets frustrated when you go 0 for 3. Then you’d think, ‘Oh, the rookie of the year is going away.’ I have to keep playing my game. Hopefully, at the end of the year, I get enough votes. But, I’m not thinking about it.”

If there is any lingering dreariness in a clubhouse brightened by 54 wins and more than a dozen new lamps, it is hidden behind the expressions of their players. The rookies have enough to consider anyway.

The Cardinals believed Kennedy lacked defensive skills, thus far unsubstantiated.

“You know, a lot of guys there loved me and thought I could do it,” he said. “Some of them did, some others didn’t. I’m not going to beat myself up over someone not appreciating how I play. There are not a lot of big leaguers who did not have doubters coming up. There’s always someone who’s going to say, ‘Well, he can’t do this or can’t do that.’ ”

But, when that certain someone is Manager Tony La Russa . . .

“Yeah,” Kennedy said, smiling, “but how can you go by that? They’re trying to win a World Series over there. They had a chance to get an all-star second baseman [Fernando Vina], and they did.”

Kennedy has played with five different shortstops. Molina is learning to call games for a fluid pitching staff. They are doing it in the thick of the wild-card race, and with the West-leading Seattle Mariners not too far ahead.

They often will sit together on the bench. They’re seeing new pitchers together, new situations together. Just as young starters Brian Cooper, Seth Etherton, Jarrod Washburn and Scott Schoeneweis have bonded, so too have Kennedy and Molina.

“We talk about what happened in our last at-bats,” Kennedy said. “We each miss a pitch, we realize you miss that one pitch in that one at-bat, you’re probably not going to get another one. You might not get another one the whole day. I think we’re both realizing that.”

It also is true that there will be another pitch tomorrow. And, around the Angels, it’s been a while since tomorrow was worth thinking about.

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BY THE NUMBERS

Mounds of Reknown

7: The all-time record for no-hitters. Nolan Ryan rode his fastball to a record seven no-hitters over his 27-year career. Another Hall of Famer, Dodger Sandy Koufax, had the record with four until Ryan shattered that mark.

10: The record for the most consecutive strikeouts by a pitcher. Tom Seaver struck out 10 consecutive batters while pitching for the New York Mets on April 20, 1970. He struck out the last batter he faced in the sixth and then struck out the side in the seventh, eighth and ninth innings.

287: The record number of times Hughie Jennings was hit by a pitched ball during his career, from 1891-1918.

313: The record for most career losses. It’s held by the same guy who holds the record for most career wins. Cy Young won 511 games over his 22-year career, but he also lost 313. When he pitched (1890-1911), relief pitching didn’t really exist like it does today. Young completed almost all of the games he started.

Reported by Bob Rohwer