There was something different about the way Jeffrey Hammonds played in winter ball.
His legs pumped a bit harder as he churned down the base lines. His arms ripped through pitches with more ferocity. And he was visibly happy.
There was something different about the way Jeffrey Hammonds played in winter ball.
His legs pumped a bit harder as he churned down the base lines. His arms ripped through pitches with more ferocity. And he was visibly happy.
Tony Tarasco, Hammonds' teammate with the Orioles and with the Ponce Lions in Puerto Rico, noticed the change.
"Jeffrey played with a lot of aggression, which I like to see," Tarasco said. "He had a very mean approach to hitting and playing the game. I could see that that came from him -- it was within him, and it didn't come from any other influence.
"He had to bring that out of himself. Sometimes, that's what it takes to make a ballplayer a good ballplayer. I had seen glimpses of it during the [Orioles'] season, but not like this."
Part of the change may be physical: For the first time since breaking in during the 1993 season, Hammonds, 25, has had a rehab-free and surgery-free off-season.
Part of the change may be mental: For the first time since cracking the Orioles' major-league roster, Hammonds is not assured a spot on the team.
Hammonds maintains that any change in his game is purely coincidental. He says he wasn't trying to make a point by playing winter ball for the first time in his career. Working with a personal trainer almost every day this winter wasn't a sign of a newfound commitment to the sport, the laid-back outfielder says.
"It wasn't a soul-searching off-season or anything like that," Hammonds said.
Having to compete with six other outfielders, including his friend Tarasco, to make the team is not what drives him. He's not consumed with showing that he was worthy of being selected fourth overall in the 1992 draft. Being left off the team's postseason roster isn't a motivating force either, he says.
But
"Of course, I'm not where I want to be in my career," Hammonds said. "Three years ago, I didn't think I'd still be at this point, but I'm still in the game and, God willing, I'm going to be around for a while.
"Why dwell on things? What's done is done. I haven't forgotten what's happened, but that doesn't fuel my fire. My game slipped, and [pitchers] found ways to exploit me. This year, I just want to win and have a good time.
"I still want to play. That's the desire that drives me."
Hammonds' desire has been questioned at times, but his potential remains a constant. The dreaded "p" word -- it has haunted countless players and has become a middle name of sorts for Hammonds.
"Jeffrey's potential is much ballyhooed, but we've reached a point where an increase in production is necessary," Orioles assistant general manager Kevin Malone said. "The fans have been excited for several years about Jeffrey's potential. It's time for him to produce."
There is not as much room for potential on the Orioles' roster as there is on others. They are a deep, experienced team with high expectations. Hammonds' name came up in several trade talks, but Malone said there is no new outside interest and the Orioles and Hammonds are likely to go to arbitration to decide his 1997 salary.
When the season ended, Hammonds' agent said they would welcome a trade, but Hammonds says it will take more than a change of scenery to kick-start his career. Hammonds says he would regret playing on a noncontender, knowing he missed a chance to win in Baltimore.
"I'm still in the organization," Hammonds said. "I feel like I have a future with the team that drafted me. I still have a job to do -- to prove to the front office of Baltimore that I'm worthy of being here every day."
Staying healthy could be the first step.
Hammonds played in 71 games last year, a personal high, but hit a career-worst .226 with a career-best nine homers. In parts of four seasons, Hammonds has 781 major-league at-bats and a .262 lifetime average.
He was the first player from the 1992 draft to reach the majors, but a herniated disk in his neck cut short the 1993 season. A strained right knee ligament hindered Hammonds in 1994, and reconstructive surgery followed in October.
Recurring knee and shoulder problems limited Hammonds to 57 games in 1995, but last year he was mostly injury-free, except for an August disabled-list stint.
"A lot of games, he was really only at 50 percent," says Ferdinand Hammonds, Jeffrey's father. "He couldn't jump for fly balls. He couldn't push off his back foot. He shouldn't have tried to play at times because of the injuries, but it's hard for him to sit. That really ended up hurting his game."
Tarasco could see a difference in a healthy Hammonds' demeanor in Puerto Rico, where he hit .278 with two homers in 22 games.
"He was like a little kid again," Tarasco said. "He was much happier and much more focused. He didn't have to see the doctor or rehab, and he could just go out and prove he's a player."
Puerto Rico may have intensified Hammonds' love of the game as well.
He was clearly influenced by the presence of stars such as Roberto Alomar and Juan Gonzalez, who play in the winter because they want to, not because they have to. The dedication of Texas' Ivan Rodriguez, who endured the rigors of catching in Puerto Rico rather than play DH or the outfield, left a lasting impression on Hammonds.
"You see how guys like Gonzalez and Alomar and Rodriguez keep their games at the top," Hammonds said. "They don't have to be down there, but they're playing the game they love. They have pride in playing the game well.
"I just want to go out and play and have fun like I did in winter ball. I'm not doing it to raise any eyebrows. I just want to play the game and keep it simple."
Pub Date: 1/28/97
