Rickey Henderson Steals First

By J. D. Reed

The Oakland flash breaks the record and keeps on going

August for baseball fans is usually a month to contemplate home runs, pennant fever and World Series possibilities. The game's exotica, like base-stealing records, are condemned to wistful tavern afternoons. There, oldtimers can sip a brew or two and contemplate Ty Cobb's 96 high-spike steals in 1915, Maury Wills' well-plotted 104 in '62, and Lou Brock's legendary 118 eight years ago.

Now, however, with his awesome speed and helmet-first style, Rickey Henderson, 23, has brought the slippery science out of the bars and back to the bleachers. The reason? The Oakland Athletics' ebullient outfielder riddled Brock's seemingly shatterproof record last Friday night in a four-steal spree. Said a jubilant A's manager, Billy Martin: "He's the most exciting player since Mickey Mantle."

Martin is right. Consider that the skittery Henderson has amassed his 122 thefts in a mere 129 games. The number is not up to his spring-training boast of a steal per game, but it took Brock, then 35, 151 contests to reach 118. The new master of the basepaths is also the first man in history to achieve 100 steals in a season twice (the first time was in 1980), and he is currently 64 thefts ahead of his nearest competitor, Montreal's Tim Raines. With the exception of Cleveland, the extraordinary Henderson alone has more steals than any entire team in the American League. Marvels Tigers' pitching coach Roger Craig: "He can't steal first, can he?"

No, but he can walk there. Coiled in a crouch that allows the pitcher only a 10-in. strike zone, Henderson has earned a league-leading 109 strolls from the plate, batting No. 1 for the beleaguered (fifth place in the American League West) '82 version of Billy Ball. Once on base, he is an electric offensive threat. When he leads off from first, infields become positively giddy, outfields flounder about like regional ballet corps, and pitchers are afflicted with tics and shudders. "You know he's going to go," says Angels' catcher Bob Boone. "The question is, which pitch?"

Pacing off a precise 3 1/2 steps from the base, Henderson screws his cleats firmly into the dirt and crouches knock-kneed, like Jerry Lewis imitating a baseball player. When the pitcher releases the ball, however, Henderson, having received the go sign from Martin, accelerates into hyperdrive. In two steps he reaches full speed, and a few strides later dives head long into the dirt--a timesaver that makes his body vulnerable to an opponent's cleats and knees. "I don't hit the ground too hard," he explains. "I come in like an airplane." By the time the Henderson SST has landed, the bleachers at Oakland Coliseum are erupting in soulful acclaim. Elapsed time of the theft: 3 sec.

Successful in 76% of his steals, Henderson is not a thinking man's thief. He has already passed Ty Cobb's 67-year-old record of getting caught 38 times. His weapons are instinct and power; his massive thighs and torso are the secret of his speed. Even his smooth features and swept-back hair seem aerodynamically designed. Says White Sox Coach Ron Schueler: "He's faster than Brock. He simply outruns the ball."

Wills, on a Dodger team scrambling for runs, made base stealing a respectable tactic, easing the way for the records of Brock and Henderson. Brock, who flew to Milwaukee last week to help Henderson celebrate, notes that the psychology of theft has not changed a bit since his own day: "What separates the great base stealer from the rest is arrogance. You have to eliminate all fear and declare war on the entire league." The guileless Henderson cites a less bellicose reason. Says he: "I've loved to steal bases since I was a little kid. That's what makes baseball thrilling for me."

The thrill was almost not enough for the home-town boy. Henderson wanted to play football instead. The All-City running back at Oakland Tech gained 1,100 yds. in his senior year (after batting .716 the previous spring), but turned down a dozen gridiron scholarships because his strong-willed mother, Bobbie, thought that he would have a longer career in baseball. Says Henderson: "My mother's only advice about trying for the record was 'Stay healthy.' " Success has not gone to his head.

Amid the hoopla that features Henderson buttons, T shirts and balloons, the player still hangs out in "Henderson Heights," a 50-seat block of outfield seats he buys for underprivileged kids. Sometimes during games, Centerfielder Dwayne Murphy must tug him back on the field from autograph signing. "I get bored," Henderson admits. Says his former roommate, Pitcher Mike Norris: "Rickey is cocky, but conceit hasn't set in."

Henderson's record-breaker Friday night in Milwaukee was typically audacious. In the third inning, he broke for second and barely slid under the tag. Afterward, Brock and American League President Lee MacPhail presented him with the base. Said Brock: "Rickey, you've carved yourself a niche in baseball history." Stolen the niche would be more like it .

--By J. D. Reed

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