Booing by L.A. Fans Another Pain in Neck for Guerrero

Pedro Guerrero got booed by his own fans Saturday and didn’t like it one bit.

He didn’t like, it because he felt he didn’t deserve it.

He didn’t like it, because the Dodgers are still in first place, and everybody’s out there every day, doing everything in his power to keep them there.

He didn’t like it any more than the times it happened before.

“Back in ‘86, when I hurt my knee, they don’t realize that I tried to come back too soon after knee surgery, and my first day back, they booed me,” Guerrero said.

“You’re talking about a guy who hit back-to-back over 30 homers, and then 33 more in ‘85, and then in ‘86, on my first game back, they boo me. Nothing they do surprises me after that day, man.”

Guerrero sat in the Dodger Stadium clubhouse, mummified by elastic bandages, a bag of ice on the pinched nerve in his neck. He was just activated Friday after 52 days on the disabled list. Now, there were two pains in that neck.

One came from playing first base and colliding with Houston baserunner Gerald Young in the fifth inning. The other came from playing third base and misplaying a Jim Pankovits grounder in the ninth inning of Houston’s 14-6 victory, which lifted the Astros within 3 1/2 games of the leaders in the National League West.

By game’s end, some of the 35,835 customers also hadn’t absolved Guerrero for not hustling to first base after striking out in the Dodger seventh. After the third strike got past the Astro catcher, Guerrero hesitated, then ran down the line at something less than full speed. He was thrown out by several steps.

“We’re human beings. We make mistakes,” Guerrero said. “All I know is that I keep trying hard to do my best.

“It’s kind of tough to go out there and play with pain, especially in the neck. My whole left side hurts, man. Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable at the plate. I’m not trying to give any excuses. It’s just that every time I put the uniform on, I try to play as hard as I know how.

“They can boo me any time they want, I don’t give a damn any more. If they want to cheer, fine. If they don’t, fine. I just know that I’m out there trying to do my best.

“They just don’t understand. They don’t support the team the way they should. It doesn’t make any difference what you did before. They boo anybody. You got to go 4 for 4 every day for them not to boo.”

All this might seem sort of strange, since Dodger fans are not exactly famous for their fury. This is hardly Philadelphia or New York, or even Houston, when it comes to hooting and heckling. Dodger fans are supposed to be true blue.

“Hey, sometimes they’re the greatest fans in the world,” Guerrero said. “But they got to realize that you can’t win them all. That you’re human beings.”

And that you are not supposed to root, root, root against the home team. Listen to the song, man. If the home team doesn’t win, it’s a shame.

“That’s the way they are, and that’s the way they been since I been here,” Guerrero said. “You can tell from the times we play the Mets and other teams, and they cheer for them more than they cheer for us.”

How come?

“I don’t know,” Guerrero said. “And I don’t give a . . . “

Two things are for sure here.

One is that, when you pay your money, you can cheer or boo anybody you please. You can boo the peanut man, the tarp pushers, the ushers, the umps, the chumps, the guests, the hosts, the anthem warblers or the trainer who attends to injured players.

The other is, when you wonder why your division-leading team has a .500 record at home when it happens to be 16 games over .500 on the road, look in a mirror. Did you contribute? Did you get behind your local ballclub? Did you hug your children today?

The Dodgers no longer feel safe at home. They get more respect on the road than they do in the ravine.

And these guys need all the help they can get, because they can hear the Houston Astros’ footsteps. This race is a race again.

Guerrero got back just in time for the most urgent series of the summer. Two days into that series, he can feel the Astros breathing down his injured neck.

Houston Manager Hal Lanier thought it odd that the Dodgers seemed to be doing things in reverse. “It’s always said that if you can play .500 ball on the road and play excellently at home, you can win the whole thing,” Lanier said. “This year the Dodgers are going about it from the other direction.”

Nothing’s settled yet. “I don’t think anyone wins or loses any pennants in July,” Lanier said.

Still, as winning pitcher Danny Darwin said Saturday, “They’ve got to be at least looking back over their shoulders a little. We’re there. We’re putting a little pressure on them.”

The Dodgers do have a few concerns. For one thing, if Fernando Valenzuela was anybody else but Fernando Valenzuela, by now he would be the spot starter of a four-man rotation, and working occasionally in long relief, where the Dodgers are weakest.

Valenzuela leads the staff in runs and hits allowed, walks and wild pitches. In his last eight starts, he has four losses and four no-decisions. Only once in his last 11 starts has he struck out more than four men. He has 8 more strikeouts than Alejandro Pena, who has pitched 74 fewer innings.

Also, Mike Marshall is in a 1-for-31 tailspin, and the Dodgers must decide whom to use at third base now that Jeff Hamilton is on the disabled list with a damaged rib cage. Guerrero belongs at first base, but Mike Davis and Franklin Stubbs both must remain on the bench if Marshall plays right field instead of first.

Then there’s shortstop, where Dave Anderson deserves to stay and play. But what, then, becomes of Alfredo Griffin? The answer, probably, is to move Anderson to third. At least plug the infield defensively.

If Guerrero has to play third, he is going to make more errors. Dodger fans had better get used to that. If they want the lineup with the bats, they had better brace themselves for the lineup without the gloves.

The more grounders Guerrero misses, the more grrrs he hears.

First place is supposed to be more fun than this.