IN a pennant race and you need fast help fast? No problem, call Rent-A-Rickey. Rickey finds himself
in another raceThat's what the Anaheim Angels did after leadoff man Tony Phillips got busted last weekend trying to buy cocaine -- they traded for Rickey Henderson, the best No. 1 batter of all time.
Apparently, grabbing Henderson for the big games works once every four years.
In 1989, he rejoined Oakland in a midseason trade from the Yankees and the A's ended up winning the World Series.
In 1993, Henderson was dealt from Oakland to Toronto in mid-
August and the Blue Jays won it all. He began the next season back with the A's, his third different time with Oakland.
Who knows where Ramblin' Rickey will be next year? Maybe in the Arizona outfield next to Kenny Lofton or batting ahead of Wade Boggs at Tampa Bay. No way the Angels can afford to pro-tect him in the expansion draft, and Henderson would be a great draw for one of the new clubs.
And don't bet on him retiring before 2000. If record-conscious Rickey plays into the next millennium, he will be one of only a handful of major leaguers to do it in four different decades.
THIS season, baseball's career stolen base leader had been trying to get out of San Diego from Day One. Who could blame him, since the Padres signed Greg Vaughn and played the slumping slugger ahead of him much of the early going?
Although Henderson's unhap-piness was no secret, he didn't take it out on others, as he has been accused of in the past. This was a kinder, gentler Rickey, well-liked in the clubhouse.
Maybe it had something to do with the konk on the head he got in April at Aloha Stadium. Henderson was trying to chase down Ron Gant's inside-the-park homer but crashed into the center-field wall when the Padres played the Cardinals here.
Actually, I've often felt Henderson got a bad rap for being a surly guy. He didn't kiss the media's collective butt as a young player and that cost him. He's also made some stupid not-very-classy moves in the past, like when he broke Lou Brock's stolen base record, and loudly proclaimed himself "the greatest" with Brock standing right next to him.
If you like him, and you know more about him than just the surface boorish reputation, you just shake your head and say, "That's Rickey."
LIKE all human beings, there's another side to him. Many fans saw it here in April when he was one of the most tireless autograph signers on either team.
I saw it when I met Henderson in 1991 when he was here at a "World's Fastest Athlete" competition.
Trying to interview him for a feature story, I quickly learned why many writers didn't like him. Although he had agreed to be interviewed during a break in the competition, he displayed a shorter attention span than a two-year-old child, wandering away twice as I was asking him questions. Nice easy questions, too, like the obligatory, "How do you like Hawaii?"
Rickey would see a shiny object or imagine someone calling his name and simply walk away.
I gave up and asked a guy who was with him, "Is he always like this?"
"Nah, he's a lot better with kids," replied Fred Atkins.
Atkins turned out to be Henderson's best friend. They were high school baseball teammates in Oakland. Atkins filled me in on some of the charity work that Henderson did -- stuff you never hear about; Rickey visiting hospitals, Rickey working with abused kids.
"Rickey doesn't say much about it," Atkins said. "Sometimes the good that people do isn't publicized very much. A lot of people have judged him without getting to know him."
I didn't have a very good interview with Rickey Henderson that day. But the most important words came from Fred Atkins, anyway.
Dave Reardon is a magazine editor and freelance
writer who has covered Hawaii sports since 1977.
He can be reached via the Star-Bulletin or
by email at dreardon@hmsa.com.
