Erratic Superstar

Relinquishing his omniscience for just a few seconds, Casey Stengel said: "God knows, I don't know what's wrong with Mickey Mantle."

Since God is not talking, Mickey's teammates and the country's sportswriters have had to try to figure it out for themselves.

A ten-year veteran at 28, Mantle should be in his peak years. He still has perhaps the highest potential in major-league history, and his past record is star caliber. But Mantle is wildly erratic. At his best, he hits home runs in fusillades--as he was doing last week. At his worst, he strikes out in dreary succession. For more than a year his bad days have outnumbered the good.

He has been plagued by physical injuries. His right knee is shot, his right shoulder is weak, he has had innumerable pulled, torn and twisted muscles. The knee bothers him most; before every game, he binds his right leg from ankle to thigh. "The knee will never be right again," says Mantle. "It always feels like it will go out." Says a rival American League manager: "When he swings, it looks like someone is sticking needles into that leg."

But Mantle's bad knee goes back to 1951, and in 1956 he still led the league in batting (.353), home runs (52) and runs batted in (130). In 1957 he hit .365. Both years he was named the league's most valuable player.

"I'll Show You." By general agreement of those who know him best, Mantle's major problem is mental. He has never developed a pro's poise to carry him through inevitable slumps. As a 19-year-old kid out of Commerce, Okla., Mantle was bewildered by the big money and the big publicity that swamped him when he took over the job of Joe DiMaggio in the Yankees' centerfield. Mantle is still a shy, stubborn introvert, who now manages to relax enough among teammates to be judged a wry dugout wit, is respected for playing while injured.

But when Mantle's game goes sour, he turns sullen in self-disgust. Says Cleveland General Manager Frank Lane: "Trouble with Mantle is, he's fighting himself. He'll go zero for three and then look miserable on a fly ball because he's brooding." When Mantle is down, the boos begin to rumble throughout Yankee Stadium even before he steps into the batter's box. Mantle hears every catcall, fools no one when he shrugs: "These people don't know what the hell they're booing."

"Mantle wants to be so great he can taste it, and it drives him nuts when he isn't," says Jerry Coleman, the fine ex-Yankee second baseman who played with Mantle for seven years, roomed with him for two, and held a front-office job from 1957 to 1960. "Mickey finds the booing terribly hard to take. He becomes defiant and throws bats and flips his helmet and bangs his fist into brick walls and kicks the water cooler. If Mickey strikes out twice, I think he gets so sore at himself and the fans who are on him he almost says, 'All right, I'll show you. I'll strike out a third time.' And the worse things go, the more the fans get on Mickey, tak ing out their venom at the Yankees who had won so many years that people are fed up with them."

To make matters worse for Mantle, another factor--totally divorced from baseball--seems to prey on his mind. Mantle's father died of cancer in 1952 at the age of 40. Two uncles died young. Mantle himself has a history of osteomyelitis. Says Coleman, in agreement with others: "I just bet he doesn't think he'll last until he's 50. I was the Yankees' player representative, and I know that whenever pensions were brought up, Mickey would always say, 'Well, you don't have to worry about a pension for me. I won't be around to collect it.' He said it kind of kiddingly, but he meant it, I think."

"I Cling to Hope." For all his troubles, Mantle is still highly respected; wary American League pitchers walk him more than once a game on the average. Says Cleveland's Lane: "I still hate the s.o.b. when he gets up there at the plate. He could bunt .300, he has power to left and right, and he still has a good arm." Still a blur on the base paths despite his knee (he has stolen six bases in six tries this year), Mantle leads the majors in runs scored, with 51. Last week Mantle was red hot, led the Yanks to a four-game sweep of Chicago, their 13th victory in 15 games and a fight with Baltimore for first place.

Even so, Mantle's batting average for the year is .267, and the Yankees have no idea when he will suddenly begin striking out again. "I'm naturally disappointed in Mantle," says Yankee General Manager George Weiss. "He's always been hard to talk to, so it's very difficult to find out what's wrong with him. But I cling to the hope that he'll pull out of it, and I've turned down deals for him with that in mind. Mantles don't come along so often that you want to make a mistake of giving up on them too soon." Weiss has a point, but the real question is not so much when or if the Yankees give up on Mantle, but when or if Mantle catches on to himself.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.