stlchiefs
07-01-2008, 01:30 PM
McGwire maintains silent presence, quietly helps hitters
By Bob Nightengale, USA TODAY
Once the most famous man in baseball, Mark McGwire lives at the end of a cul-de-sac in a gated community in Irvine, Calif., where the world is not permitted to see him.
He hasn't made a public appearance at a major league ballpark in three years, has declined interview requests and passed on annual invitations to visit his former team, the St. Louis Cardinals, in spring training.
McGwire, the greatest show on earth a decade ago when he hit a single-season record 70 home runs, had his last moment in the spotlight in 2005, a tortured day in front of a congressional hearing on steroids from which his words — "I'm not here to talk about the past" — still resonate.
"The perception of Mark is so completely different than the reality," says Craig Daedelow, a friend of McGwire who often sees and talks to him. "People think he's out of the game, but they have no idea just how much he's still in the game."
Although McGwire declined to comment for this story, friends, colleagues and those in the game say he is slowly returning to baseball. They point to the secret hitting lessons he gives to a small group of major leaguers, minor leaguers and college players, and the time two years ago he nearly became the hitting coach of the Colorado Rockies.
FIND MORE STORIES IN: Minnesota | New York Yankees | Baltimore | Southern California | Toronto | St. Louis Cardinals | Major League Baseball | Florida State | National League | Arizona Diamondbacks | Randy Johnson | Red Wings | Mark McGwire | Irvine | Matt Holliday | House Committee | Government Reform | Chris Duncan | Huntington Beach | Dan O'Dowd | Shelley Duncan | Chris. | Jack Rye | Class AAA Rochester | Total Baseball
They say they are convinced the 44-year-old will be in a baseball uniform in the near future, and not because he is in search of glory or a place in the Hall of Fame after two failed bids, but because his enduring passion for baseball is driving him back after he retired in 2001.
"He would be a tremendous hitting coach," Colorado Rockies general manager Dan O'Dowd says. "Really, he'd be great at just about anything he wanted to do in baseball. He has so much passion for the game, and so much to offer."
Mike Gallego, McGwire's long-time friend and former teammate, says the former slugger still has conflicted feelings. McGwire has never publicly admitted to using steroids nor denied allegations. He refused to answer whether he used steroids as a player during his March 17, 2005, testimony before the House Committee on Government Reform.
"The game of baseball means so much to him," Gallego says, "that he's embarrassed what he did. He feels like he let a lot of kids down. They looked up to him. He was their hero. And he disappointed them.
"Mac was always a people pleaser.
"And he feels like he hurt them."
McGwire has lost touch with some friends and acquaintances, with former Southern California teammates such as Randy Johnson of the Arizona Diamondbacks unable to even remember the last time they saw him.
"It's sad," Commissioner Bud Selig says. "He gave so much to this game, but now you don't see him or even hear from him."
Quietly helping hitters
McGwire may have vanished from the public eye, but there are those who know exactly where to find him.
There is no routine, and he doesn't show up every day, but McGwire can be seen in the early mornings or late afternoons at Daedelow's batting cage, Total Baseball, in Huntington Beach, Calif.
This is where he teaches hitting, conducts lessons and discusses philosophies of the game with his protégés.
"He's the most outgoing person there is when it comes to wanting to help people," says New York Yankees utilityman Shelley Duncan, who works with McGwire each winter. "He really revolutionized my swing and changed things around for my career. When I worked with him, my eyes really opened up to the mental side of the game.
"He loves the game, and he really wants to get back into it. He'd be a tremendous hitting coach."
McGwire has hitting disciples throughout baseball, including defending National League batting champion Matt Holliday of the Colorado Rockies; Skip Schumaker and Chris Duncan, Shelley's brother, of the Cardinals; Howie Clark of the Class AAA Rochester (N.Y.) Red Wings; and Jack Rye, who recently completed his senior year at Florida State.
Clark, 34, has 302 major league at-bats with Baltimore, Toronto and Minnesota, and 4,395 minor league at-bats dating to 1992. He says his life changed in 1996 when he started to work with McGwire.
"He's one of the greatest people I've ever met in life," he says. "I've spent 15 years in the minors, and he treats me like a teammate. He's the one who gave me hope, telling me never to give up on my dreams, that I can play in the big leagues.
"When I finally made it, after nine years, Mark was one of the first ones to call me."
McGwire's teachings, his students say, are hopefully the beginning of his reconciliation with Major League Baseball. One day, perhaps as early as this winter or next spring, they believe McGwire will return in an official capacity.
He might be a major league hitting coach or a roving minor league coach. The Cardinals have discussed sending their top prospects to work with him, Daedelow said, citing a recent conversation with McGwire. But those with whom he's worked insist McGwire will return to the game in an official capacity.
"Absolutely," says Schumaker, who along with Chris Duncan spends one week each winter with McGwire, hitting for nearly six hours a day. "He has so much to give, I know he wants to get back into it.
"Really, he needs to be back in this game. Everybody that's ever been around him wants him back. I know he probably wants some things to calm down, and he doesn't want to be a distraction, but I think he can make this work.
"The game needs him. It's time."
Nearly 600 homers, but no Hall
McGwire made his last public baseball appearance during the final weekend of September 2005. He returned to Busch Stadium to commemorate the final regular-season games there.
It also was the last time he spoke publicly, except for a brief comment at a charity event, six months after his congressional testimony.
"When I left Washington, that's the last time I'm going to ever talk about it," McGwire told reporters. "That's really about it. I've moved on. I wish the media would move on from it.
"I'm enjoying life right now. I love the game of baseball. I miss the game of baseball. And I can't wait for someday when somebody offers me a fantastic job to get back in baseball."
McGwire remains haunted by allegations of steroid use. He has 583 home runs, but in Hall of Fame voting conducted by the Baseball Writers Association of America, he has received only 23.5% and 23.6% of the vote in two years of eligibility. A candidate needs 75% for induction.
If McGwire makes the Hall, the Cardinals will unveil the bronze statue of him that is sitting in a downtown St. Louis warehouse.
"I'm all for you get what you earn, you deserve," Cardinals manager Tony La Russa says, "and he deserves to be in the Hall of Fame. It's not even a tough call."
Interviewed with Rockies
Two years ago, the Rockies needed a hitting coach. Names were suggested. Résumés poured into O'Dowd's office. And three members of O'Dowd's coaching staff came forth with one recommendation.
Walt Weiss, Jamie Quirk and Gallego, all of whom played with McGwire in Oakland, told O'Dowd he needed to talk to McGwire.
"I thought he'd be perfect," Gallego says. "He has an unbelievable gift of teaching hitting. He was serious about it."
O'Dowd telephoned McGwire and conducted an informal interview. McGwire later pulled himself out of the running, but two years later, O'Dowd has not forgotten.
"I couldn't believe how much he really understood hitting, and how great he was in the interview," O'Dowd says. "There was absolutely no doubt in my mind he'd be great. I still believe that."
So do many people in baseball.
"The guy is unbelievable," says Holliday, who met McGwire two years ago. "I was able to talk to him and pick his brain. I still have him (text-message) me if he sees something.
"I'd love for him to help out, whether it's with us or someone else, and I think he will once he can coach and not have a circus around him."
La Russa, who managed McGwire in Oakland and St. Louis in 14-plus seasons of his 16-year career, has tried the past five years to persuade McGwire to join him as a coach.
He thought McGwire was ready last spring to help out for a week as a spring training instructor. McGwire, married with two young boys and a grown son from his first marriage, waited all spring before finally declining.
"He hasn't been to camp since he retired, but I really thought we were close this time," La Russa says. "He will. It's just a question of when the time is right with his boys.
"I can't wait when he does. He has so much to offer."
Rye's family lives in the same Southern California neighborhood as McGwire, and he introduced himself to McGwire four years ago. Rye, an outfielder, says McGwire never lost touch with him when he went to college and provided hitting lessons when Rye came home. When Rye was drafted in the 13th round by the New York Yankees last month, one of the first congratulatory text messages was from McGwire.
"If I make it" to the big leagues, Rye says, "Mark will be a big reason why. He's helped me so much. He took me under his wing and helped me become the player I am."
Daedelow, whose seven-year minor league career ended because of injuries, says he believes it's a matter of when — not if — McGwire returns to a major league ballpark.
"I just don't know if he's ready to put his name out there and face all of the crap he'd get," Daedelow says.
"When this all blows over, everyone's going to see him again, people will find out the real Mark McGwire. They'll see just how much he loves this game, and really, what he still means to this game."
http://www.usatoday.com/sports/baseball/2008-06-30-mcgwire_N.htm?loc=interstitialskip
He's no Barry Bonds, but I personally am still not willing to let him off the hook for his actions. They still need to rename the stupid highway here in STL after someone more fitting.
By Bob Nightengale, USA TODAY
Once the most famous man in baseball, Mark McGwire lives at the end of a cul-de-sac in a gated community in Irvine, Calif., where the world is not permitted to see him.
He hasn't made a public appearance at a major league ballpark in three years, has declined interview requests and passed on annual invitations to visit his former team, the St. Louis Cardinals, in spring training.
McGwire, the greatest show on earth a decade ago when he hit a single-season record 70 home runs, had his last moment in the spotlight in 2005, a tortured day in front of a congressional hearing on steroids from which his words — "I'm not here to talk about the past" — still resonate.
"The perception of Mark is so completely different than the reality," says Craig Daedelow, a friend of McGwire who often sees and talks to him. "People think he's out of the game, but they have no idea just how much he's still in the game."
Although McGwire declined to comment for this story, friends, colleagues and those in the game say he is slowly returning to baseball. They point to the secret hitting lessons he gives to a small group of major leaguers, minor leaguers and college players, and the time two years ago he nearly became the hitting coach of the Colorado Rockies.
FIND MORE STORIES IN: Minnesota | New York Yankees | Baltimore | Southern California | Toronto | St. Louis Cardinals | Major League Baseball | Florida State | National League | Arizona Diamondbacks | Randy Johnson | Red Wings | Mark McGwire | Irvine | Matt Holliday | House Committee | Government Reform | Chris Duncan | Huntington Beach | Dan O'Dowd | Shelley Duncan | Chris. | Jack Rye | Class AAA Rochester | Total Baseball
They say they are convinced the 44-year-old will be in a baseball uniform in the near future, and not because he is in search of glory or a place in the Hall of Fame after two failed bids, but because his enduring passion for baseball is driving him back after he retired in 2001.
"He would be a tremendous hitting coach," Colorado Rockies general manager Dan O'Dowd says. "Really, he'd be great at just about anything he wanted to do in baseball. He has so much passion for the game, and so much to offer."
Mike Gallego, McGwire's long-time friend and former teammate, says the former slugger still has conflicted feelings. McGwire has never publicly admitted to using steroids nor denied allegations. He refused to answer whether he used steroids as a player during his March 17, 2005, testimony before the House Committee on Government Reform.
"The game of baseball means so much to him," Gallego says, "that he's embarrassed what he did. He feels like he let a lot of kids down. They looked up to him. He was their hero. And he disappointed them.
"Mac was always a people pleaser.
"And he feels like he hurt them."
McGwire has lost touch with some friends and acquaintances, with former Southern California teammates such as Randy Johnson of the Arizona Diamondbacks unable to even remember the last time they saw him.
"It's sad," Commissioner Bud Selig says. "He gave so much to this game, but now you don't see him or even hear from him."
Quietly helping hitters
McGwire may have vanished from the public eye, but there are those who know exactly where to find him.
There is no routine, and he doesn't show up every day, but McGwire can be seen in the early mornings or late afternoons at Daedelow's batting cage, Total Baseball, in Huntington Beach, Calif.
This is where he teaches hitting, conducts lessons and discusses philosophies of the game with his protégés.
"He's the most outgoing person there is when it comes to wanting to help people," says New York Yankees utilityman Shelley Duncan, who works with McGwire each winter. "He really revolutionized my swing and changed things around for my career. When I worked with him, my eyes really opened up to the mental side of the game.
"He loves the game, and he really wants to get back into it. He'd be a tremendous hitting coach."
McGwire has hitting disciples throughout baseball, including defending National League batting champion Matt Holliday of the Colorado Rockies; Skip Schumaker and Chris Duncan, Shelley's brother, of the Cardinals; Howie Clark of the Class AAA Rochester (N.Y.) Red Wings; and Jack Rye, who recently completed his senior year at Florida State.
Clark, 34, has 302 major league at-bats with Baltimore, Toronto and Minnesota, and 4,395 minor league at-bats dating to 1992. He says his life changed in 1996 when he started to work with McGwire.
"He's one of the greatest people I've ever met in life," he says. "I've spent 15 years in the minors, and he treats me like a teammate. He's the one who gave me hope, telling me never to give up on my dreams, that I can play in the big leagues.
"When I finally made it, after nine years, Mark was one of the first ones to call me."
McGwire's teachings, his students say, are hopefully the beginning of his reconciliation with Major League Baseball. One day, perhaps as early as this winter or next spring, they believe McGwire will return in an official capacity.
He might be a major league hitting coach or a roving minor league coach. The Cardinals have discussed sending their top prospects to work with him, Daedelow said, citing a recent conversation with McGwire. But those with whom he's worked insist McGwire will return to the game in an official capacity.
"Absolutely," says Schumaker, who along with Chris Duncan spends one week each winter with McGwire, hitting for nearly six hours a day. "He has so much to give, I know he wants to get back into it.
"Really, he needs to be back in this game. Everybody that's ever been around him wants him back. I know he probably wants some things to calm down, and he doesn't want to be a distraction, but I think he can make this work.
"The game needs him. It's time."
Nearly 600 homers, but no Hall
McGwire made his last public baseball appearance during the final weekend of September 2005. He returned to Busch Stadium to commemorate the final regular-season games there.
It also was the last time he spoke publicly, except for a brief comment at a charity event, six months after his congressional testimony.
"When I left Washington, that's the last time I'm going to ever talk about it," McGwire told reporters. "That's really about it. I've moved on. I wish the media would move on from it.
"I'm enjoying life right now. I love the game of baseball. I miss the game of baseball. And I can't wait for someday when somebody offers me a fantastic job to get back in baseball."
McGwire remains haunted by allegations of steroid use. He has 583 home runs, but in Hall of Fame voting conducted by the Baseball Writers Association of America, he has received only 23.5% and 23.6% of the vote in two years of eligibility. A candidate needs 75% for induction.
If McGwire makes the Hall, the Cardinals will unveil the bronze statue of him that is sitting in a downtown St. Louis warehouse.
"I'm all for you get what you earn, you deserve," Cardinals manager Tony La Russa says, "and he deserves to be in the Hall of Fame. It's not even a tough call."
Interviewed with Rockies
Two years ago, the Rockies needed a hitting coach. Names were suggested. Résumés poured into O'Dowd's office. And three members of O'Dowd's coaching staff came forth with one recommendation.
Walt Weiss, Jamie Quirk and Gallego, all of whom played with McGwire in Oakland, told O'Dowd he needed to talk to McGwire.
"I thought he'd be perfect," Gallego says. "He has an unbelievable gift of teaching hitting. He was serious about it."
O'Dowd telephoned McGwire and conducted an informal interview. McGwire later pulled himself out of the running, but two years later, O'Dowd has not forgotten.
"I couldn't believe how much he really understood hitting, and how great he was in the interview," O'Dowd says. "There was absolutely no doubt in my mind he'd be great. I still believe that."
So do many people in baseball.
"The guy is unbelievable," says Holliday, who met McGwire two years ago. "I was able to talk to him and pick his brain. I still have him (text-message) me if he sees something.
"I'd love for him to help out, whether it's with us or someone else, and I think he will once he can coach and not have a circus around him."
La Russa, who managed McGwire in Oakland and St. Louis in 14-plus seasons of his 16-year career, has tried the past five years to persuade McGwire to join him as a coach.
He thought McGwire was ready last spring to help out for a week as a spring training instructor. McGwire, married with two young boys and a grown son from his first marriage, waited all spring before finally declining.
"He hasn't been to camp since he retired, but I really thought we were close this time," La Russa says. "He will. It's just a question of when the time is right with his boys.
"I can't wait when he does. He has so much to offer."
Rye's family lives in the same Southern California neighborhood as McGwire, and he introduced himself to McGwire four years ago. Rye, an outfielder, says McGwire never lost touch with him when he went to college and provided hitting lessons when Rye came home. When Rye was drafted in the 13th round by the New York Yankees last month, one of the first congratulatory text messages was from McGwire.
"If I make it" to the big leagues, Rye says, "Mark will be a big reason why. He's helped me so much. He took me under his wing and helped me become the player I am."
Daedelow, whose seven-year minor league career ended because of injuries, says he believes it's a matter of when — not if — McGwire returns to a major league ballpark.
"I just don't know if he's ready to put his name out there and face all of the crap he'd get," Daedelow says.
"When this all blows over, everyone's going to see him again, people will find out the real Mark McGwire. They'll see just how much he loves this game, and really, what he still means to this game."
http://www.usatoday.com/sports/baseball/2008-06-30-mcgwire_N.htm?loc=interstitialskip
He's no Barry Bonds, but I personally am still not willing to let him off the hook for his actions. They still need to rename the stupid highway here in STL after someone more fitting.