He's still Le Grand Orange
Rusty Staub of the Detroit Tigers is a creature of habits, routines and quirks. He believes they help make him a successful designated hitter. Everyone else thinks they make him a successful DH who is also a little, uh, weird. But, really now, what's so weird about traveling with your own bottled water, or taking a 90-minute nap before every game, or wearing one pair of gloves for batting and another for running the bases?
What really sets Staub apart from most other players is his hitting. The 34-year-old lefthanded swinger from New Orleans is in his 16th season and with his fourth team, and he currently ranks in the top five among active players in hits, doubles and RBIs. A rightfielder until he went to the Tigers from the Mets in 1976, Staub is now the consummate designated hitter. He hit .295 in 36 games as a DH (and .299 overall) in 1976. Last year he had the DH job full time and hit .278, leading all DHs in RBIs (101), runs (84) and hits (173). This season he has been even better. Staub leads all DHs with a .298 average (the league average is .254), well ahead of runner-up Jim Rice, who is batting .284 when DH-ing and .340 when playing in the outfield. Staub is even challenging Rice for the league RBI lead, trailing the Boston slugger 96-95. "We're like the tortoise and the hare," says Staub. "I can get one or two RBIs a game, but with his power Rice can get 20 in a week. He must have had some kind of physical problem, or we wouldn't be this close."
In truth, the tortoise has had problems of his own this year, particularly a sore back. Before each game Staub's back is rubbed with liniment, and he is strapped in a tight elastic corset. Nonetheless, he has played in all 114 of the Tigers' games, and has been conspicuously slump-free. Rusty's longest stretch without a hit is two games and he has failed to reach base via a hit or a walk in only 11 games. He has driven in 46 runs in the last 45 games, of which the Tigers have won 29. They now are in third place in the East, 10 games behind Boston.
"I'm a grind-it-out person," Staub says. "I've got to work harder than the next guy to get the same results. If I didn't realize that, I'd have been out of the game a long time ago. That's what I try to impress on the younger players: if you understand yourself, if you know what you can and can't do, then you've got a chance. You can adjust and compensate."
Staub learned the lesson the hard way. After just one season of minor league ball, he became a regular with Houston in 1963 and batted .224. In half a big league season the following year, he hit .216. He did not start to show his hitting prowess until the second half of 1965 when a hot streak lifted his average to .256. Over the past 13 years, Staub has averaged .290 and shown occasional home-run power (a high of 30 with Montreal in 1970, when he became known as Le Grand Orange and rivaled Jean Beliveau for popularity in Canada, and 19 so far this year). Staub would certainly be a career .300 hitter if he had just a little speed, but he comes out of the batter's box as if he were mired in quicksand.
"When I first came up, I saw myself as a long-ball hitter," he says. "I was a dumbnagle. After 2½ years I finally said to myself, 'Hey, dummy, you want to go back to the minors?' No? Then hit to left sometimes.' "
This is only one of the techniques that Staub has tried to pass on to young teammates such as First Baseman Jason Thompson and Leftfielder Steve Kemp, both of whom also bat left. Kemp, whose .281 average is up 24 points from last year, says, "I'm a better hitter because of Rusty. He teaches you to hit your pitch. To make contact without trying to kill the ball. To stay in control." All of this is fine with Manager Ralph Houk, who says, "If a young player wants to learn how to hit, all he has to do is watch Rusty Staub."
It is the development of these young Tiger players that has made Staub the team's permanent DH, a role he regards with mixed feelings. "I told Ralph last year that I didn't like it and I didn't think I deserved it," Staub says, "but I also said I would try to be the best DH I could. Instead of fighting it, I'm assuming it. But I am smart enough to realize that by doing it now, it will add years to my career."
For Staub this is an important consideration because he figures he has a good shot at 3,000 hits. After getting a homer and a single Sunday against the White Sox, Staub was 674 short, but if he bangs out as many hits from 1978 to 1982 as he did from 1973 to 1977, he will make it before he turns 39. Says Staub, who has never had a 200-hit season and is not likely to come close to one, "If I stay injury free I think I can do it. That's why I work my tail off to stay in shape."
Staub keeps in condition year-round. He plays racquet ball and runs for 20 minutes almost every day during the winter. During the season he runs as often as he can before heading for the park, and then performs stretching exercises and does push-ups once he arrives. No wonder he needs a nap. Three times a week he does elaborate hand and wrist exercises after a game to tone his forearm muscles.
Staub's quirks are most evident in his routines before and during games. He girds himself with knee pads and ankle tape and his back brace. Once on the field, he is easily recognized, and not just for his bright-red hair. Staub does not look like the other guys. For batting practice, instead of baseball shoes and a regular uniform top he wears rubber-soled shoes and a dark-blue warmup jacket with the right sleeve cut off near the shoulder. Instead of following the current fashion of wearing uniform pants with legs low enough to meet the top of high-stirrup socks, his pants legs extend to just below the knee and his stirrups are short, exposing very little of the white sanitary hose underneath.
Staub is also not a typical ballplayer once he gets in the batting cage. He stands in front of the plate, well outside the batter's box, and he uses a ponderous 38-ounce bat. Instead of just swinging freely, he practices game situations: hit and run, sacrifice fly, opposite field.
Before the game begins, Staub changes into dry clothes (replacing one obscene T shirt with another) and puts on his regular uniform jersey and spikes. He takes a lighter, 36-ounce bat from the clubhouse and places it near the bat rack, not in it. At the plate, he stands as far forward as possible and as close to the plate as he can. He chokes up and hits with a quick, compact swing. And hit he does. "With a man in scoring position, there's no one I fear more," says Texas First Baseman Mike Hargrove.
If Staub gets on base, he exchanges his lighter, softer, more expensive gloves for a heavier, more durable pair. If he makes an out, the bat boy is under instruction to hand him the bat so he can return it to the dugout himself—a penance, one supposes.
Between appearances at the plate, Staub often returns to the clubhouse, where he either watches the game on television or listens to it on the radio. He may also jump rope or, if he is particularly upset with himself and wants to clear his mind, work on a crossword puzzle.
"The toughest thing about being a DH," he says, "is being mentally prepared to hit. I'm a very intense person and if I mess up I need something to take my mind off it. I used to be able to do that by playing defense, but not now. That's why crossword puzzles are so helpful."
Which brings us, finally, to this question: Does anyone know two five-letter words that mean red-haired, good-hitting eccentric? Rusty Staub? That's it. That's it exactly.
PHOTO
Staub leads all DHs with a .298 batting average.