J.D. Drew and the Kirk Gibson Complex
J.D. Drew leaves us few vivid memories as he says goodbye to Los Angeles, opting out of the remaining three years and $33 million of his Dodgers contract this week to shop for better.
Here’s a moment I will remember.
You know how sometimes a batter, with a three-ball count, lets a pitch go by and takes a few steps toward first base, thinking the pitch missed or trying to sell the umpire, before it’s called a strike and he has to come back?
One night last season, Drew, facing a two-strike count, let a pitch go by and took a couple of steps toward the dugout, before it was called a ball and he came back, looking not quite as relieved or embarrassed as he should.
You’ll have to trust my memory on this. I’m kicking myself because I made no note of that spineless performance on any score sheet. I can’t report how the at-bat turned out – except to say I’m fairly certain Drew did not hit a dramatic, game-winning, season-turning home run.
It’s doubtful Dodgers general manager Ned Colletti will make any move this winter that’s as popular with the average fan as the move J.D. Drew just made for him. Colletti’s spiteful comments about Drew’s decision added up to Good Riddance. Manager Grady Little had been lukewarm in his praise of Drew all season.
This, despite the fact Drew’s 2006 production was pretty darned good. His 100 RBI (the first time he’s reached that level) were eighth-best among major league right fielders, and his 20 home runs were 13th. His .891 OBS – the stat that combines slugging and on-base percentages – was fifth.
Oh, and his .393 on-base percentage was second-best (behind Lance Berkman, who actually played more first base than right field). That’s the quality that made Paul DePodesta sign Drew in 2004.
Drew wasn’t (isn’t) a bad ballplayer. He’s just not what a team trying to win a championship, or fans of any team, look for in a ballplayer.
L.A. has a Kirk Gibson Complex, and while the worship of the 1988 World Series hero has been inspiring to the fans, it has been hell for well-paid outfielders who have followed him here. When Shawn Green failed to hit the ground to try to catch a ball that broke up a no-hitter, my column led with the most damning rhetoric I could think of, which was that Gibson woulda dove for it. Now Drew suffers because he’s missing the Gibby chromosome, the one that produces outward signs of commitment.
With Drew, you get 20 home runs and not a speck of magic.
Drew hit the second of the Dodgers’ four consecutive homers against San Diego that night in September. Does anybody believe he would have hit the third or fourth if his turn had come up there? He’d have stood there trying to work Trevor Hoffman for a walk.
If there are Lakers fans (and there are) who believe the team would be better off without Kobe Bryant’s 35.4 points because they doubt his intangible qualities, there’s room for reasonable Dodgers fans to believe the club will be better off without Drew’s 20 homers.
Arguments like this are great – and endless – because they’re about slippery intangibles. If you demand evidence of Drew’s ungibsonishness, there are only his numbers with runners in scoring position. They’re adequate, not good.
Drew hit .297 with runners on second or third in 2006. That’s well below the four Dodgers ahead of him in the lineup – Rafael Furcal (.346), Kenny Lofton (.317), Nomar Garciaparra (.368) and Jeff Kent (.330).
Add it up, and you have 50,000 fans at Dodger Stadium who look at Drew and see a nice enough player, a good enough guy, with a complete absence of triumphant will.
Of course, the wish for commitment works both ways. The fans and franchise want it from the player, and the player wants it from the fans and franchise. Drew must hear the reaction to his departure and know he made the right call.
J.D. Drew takes a walk. It always was what he did best.