COMMENTARY : Dale Murphy, Hero: Can He Still Play?

Did you know Dale Murphy began his professional baseball career as a catcher? He must be the only catcher to become a Gold Glove center fielder.

The transformation began when Murphy looked through the mask of ignorance and saw a Phil Niekro knuckleball butterflying his way. The thing sailed outside and Murphy lunged for it. His left knee didn’t like the work and went pop.

Fifteen years later, Murphy’s time as a catcher is forgotten--except when the knee decides to remind the great man of his misspent youth. Such as last summer when doctors took up residence at the knee. They repaired, cleaned, rinsed, excavated and allowed Murphy to play only 18 games for the Philadelphia Phillies.

So today Dale Murphy is in the inevitable and uncomfortable spot reserved for 37-year-old outfielders with bad knees, coming off nothing seasons. Although his career work makes him Hall of Fame material, baseball asks its hard question: What can you do today?

Murphy reported to camp a week early. “The knee really feels good,” he said, adding words baseball lovers like to say each spring: “I’m ready to start playing some baseball.”

Anytime I write about Dale Murphy, I remember a question posed by the late great sportswriter, Dick Young. He wrote of baseball fans:

“The resiliency of you, the fan, amazes me. The owner drops you, moving what you thought was your team, and you bounce back. The players drop you, jumping sometimes in the middle of a cheer, but you always bounce back. The owners don’t give a damn. The players don’t give a damn. Only you give a damn. You continue to root for a city’s name on a shirt. Did you ever stop to wonder why?”

Baseball fans care because it doesn’t matter what fools the owners and players are. The game’s the thing, and it’s there no matter what. The game speaks to us in the language of our childhood, a language of sweet memories, of sounds and smells and feels. Baseball fans care because the game is played according to rules of fairness and merit. Those rules remind us that between the white lines there is harmony and order. We only wish we could find such perfection in other places.

Baseball fans care, too, because they believe in heroes. And they believe baseball, a piece of perfection in an imperfect world, can give them heroes. They even believe it is possible for the faultless game to give them a faultless hero, if only one in a lifetime.

Such a hero would do milk commercials and win the Most Valuable Player award. He would hit 398 home runs in 14 seasons and say “gosh” about 398 times a day. He would be a man headed for Cooperstown who believes it’s more important to be a good daddy to his seven sons. He would be a man quoted by saying, “God isn’t really interested in our batting averages,” as he racks up consecutive home run seasons of 36, 36, 37, 29 and 44.

He would be a player who thanks the fans for caring, even as he gives them every reason to care.

There is such a man and his name is Dale Murphy and we’ve been lucky to be around in his time. But even heroes have to answer the hard questions of reality. As Murphy tries to persuade the Phillies he can play the game, those questions are: Is 1993 a comeback year for Murphy? Or is it the end of an extraordinary career?

He twice was the National League’s MVP and five times a Gold Glove center fielder. From 1982 to ’87 he hit .288 with an average of 36 home runs and 105 runs batted in. The next four seasons, playing hurt on terrible teams, Murphy averaged .237, 22 home runs and 81 RBI. Then came last year’s 18-game season.

Now the millionaire hero is in spring training on a minor league contract, being paid a few bucks to show up and try to make the team. The last time Murphy went to spring training with something to prove was 1978.

“So this is a different feeling,” he said. “But it’s exciting. I’m looking forward to the challenge. After last year, so frustrating all the time, I appreciate the chance to play this game. Gosh, I really couldn’t be more excited.”

The only darkness in Atlanta’s wonderful story the last two seasons was Murphy’s absence. He helped make Atlanta good in the early 1980s, and he persevered heroically as fool Owner Ted Turner let the team crumble. Then, alas, Murphy’s trade in 1990 became a symbol of Atlanta’s determination to succeed.

Now Atlanta shimmers in glory, and Murphy is lost in the shadows.

The knee, his advancing age and the declining numbers conspired against him when he became a free agent last winter. No one called. Only the Phillies invited him to camp this spring. Murphy is undaunted.

“I know there’ll come a day when it’s time to go,” he said. “But right now I feel like I should be playing, especially after spring training last year. I felt good enough to get back to 100 RBIs.

“The Phillies have been very patient with me. And I’m really excited about this season. Gosh, it’s been a long time since I went a summer playing just 18 games. So I’m excited about getting back, and I’m excited about playing for a team that can win.”

Murphy says the Phillies want youngster Wes Chamberlain in right field and have told him they’d like him to win the left-field job. Anyone who cares about baseball will be rooting for Murphy. He is the game at its sweetheart best.

My idea of an excellent 1993 season would be one in which Dale Murphy has a hitting streak that begins in April and ends in October.