Outside Oberlin

A rotten Strawberry falls from grace

This early in the baseball season, the World Series champion New York Yankees have still not missed a beat, picking up right where they left off after a four-game sweep of the San Diego Padres in last yearıs Fall Classic. Thus far, they have amassed an impressive 9-5 record against teams like the up-and-coming Oakland Aıs, the resurgent Detroit Tigers and the Baltimore Orioles, a team loaded with proven veteran talent. Remarkably, they have done all of this without beloved manager Joe Torre, who is recovering quickly from surgery he recently underwent to treat prostate cancer. Meanwhile, meddlesome team owner George Steinbrenner has kept his mouth shut, avoiding the type of controversies that plagued the Yankees organization throughout the turbulent 1980s. Indeed, it seemed for one beautiful second that all was well in the Bronx Zoo.

But naturally, that couldnıt last. On Wednesday, April 14, a foul stench began to emanate from the Yankee clubhouse. And it smelled like rotten fruit.

Thatıs because Darryl Strawberry, the infamous comeback kid whose career was resurrected by the Bombers in June of 1995, blindsided his employers, his teammates and himself by stirring up a little controversy of his own. On that fateful evening, just three miles from his teamıs training facilities in Tampa, Fla., the eight-time All-Star was arrested for soliciting an undercover officer for sex and possession of 0.3 grams of cocaine.

For anyone unfamiliar with the Strawberry saga, it can be accurately described as another tragic tale of wasted youth. When the promising young outfielder made his Major League debut for the New York Mets in May of 1983, he was touted as the savior of an organization that had historically lived in the shadows cast by its ostentatious crosstown rival. And the Straw did not disappoint. Together with another rising star, pitching ace Dwight Gooden, Strawberry and his powerful bat helped his team to win several division championships and the 1986 World Series title. During his first nine seasons in the league, he belted 280 homers, drove in 832 runs and made himself one of the most sought-after free agents in the game.

But something funny happened on the way to Cooperstown. Just before the 1990 season, which would prove to be his last with the Mets, Strawberry was arrested for assault with a deadly weapon during an argument with his wife; one week later, he would check himself into the Smithers Center for alcohol rehabilitation. Upon his release, he returned to the Mets and enjoyed one of his most productive seasons ever, driving in a career-high 108 runs. And while Strawberry walked away from that incident relatively unscathed, more trouble was on the horizon for the veteran outfielder. A lot more.

In 1993, he was arrested once again for allegedly striking Charisse Simons, his 26-year-old companion. One year later, Strawberry revealed that he was suffering from a substance abuse problem and was immediately placed on the disabled list by his new team, the Los Angeles Dodgers. After a month-long stay at the Betty Ford Clinic, he returned to baseball and suffered through one of his worst seasons ever, this time with the San Francisco Giants. In December of contending for its first postseason appearance in years would take a gamble on the unpredictable Strawberry. This was the same player who, regardless of his rap sheet, had amassed just 14 home runs and 54 RBIs since 1991. Nevertheless, the Bronx Bombers jumped at the opportunity to embarrass their crosstown adversaries by restoring a fallen Met hero to his old, All-Star self.

And for a while, he delivered the goods. During the magical 1996 season that would bring New York its first World Series title in over a decade, Straw began his second stint in the majors by hitting 11 homers and driving in 36 runs in a mere 63 games. Two years later, he enjoyed his finest season in seven years, belting 24 home runs and 57 RBIs in just 295 at-bats. To be sure, the future once again looked bright for the man who had traveled for four long years along a path of self-destruction.

But in October of 1998, on the eve of his second championship run with the Yankees, a disaster of another kind befell Strawberry. At that time, he learned that he had a cancerous tumor in his colon that would require immediate medical attention and sideline him for at least six months. So he did what any responsible ballplayer would do ‹ he underwent surgery, rejoined his team three weeks later to celebrate their World Series title and then made his debut as a spokesman for the National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence. In short, Strawberry became nothing less than an overnight hero, a prodigal son who had turned his life around and seemed determined to make a positive impact upon his community. It is no wonder, then, that New York City mayor Rudolph Giuliani publicly honored the Strawman ³for the comeback heıs made as a baseball player and the comeback heıs making in life.²

Last week, that fairy tale came to a disappointingly abrupt ending, as it became all too clear that the final chapter in the Strawberry saga would not be a happy one. After working so hard to mend his tarnished reputation and begin his life in baseball anew, the Strawman encountered his worst enemy, the same enemy who has shadowed him throughout his life and career: himself. Itıs a sad story, one that even the most hardened Red Sox fan would prefer not to tell, but itıs the truth. Darryl Strawberry, the formerly adored All-Star, is and always has been the architect of his own ruin, a man who will be remembered not for his on-field heroics, but for his off-field addictions and poor decisions.

As he was being booked at the Hillsborough County Jail, a pathetic Strawberry reportedly begged his arresting officers to reconsider, to settle the matter quietly so that his career as a professional athlete might not be jeopardized. Thatıs not surprising, especially when you consider that he has probably wasted his last chance to succeed in baseball. And itıs a shame. He could have been one of the greats.