Clouds Are Building Over His Future : Baseball: After Wetteland again fails to last, Lasorda says he is not sure the youngster will start in his next turn.

By MARK HEISLER

June 2, 1990 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

Dodger pitcher John Wetteland, now taking his knocks trying to fill the spot vacated by Orel Hershiser, has a Grateful Dead lyric printed above his locker:

“Searchlights casting forethoughts in the cloud of delusion.”

Now, shortly after the Reds have finished casting line drives through the cloud of his confusion, the 23-year-old Wetteland tries to figure out what is happening.

In fact, it’s this: five starts since Hershiser had surgery, an 0-3 record, 7.83 earned-run average, out of all five games by the fifth inning. Friday night, he gave up three hits, walked three, hit two and threw two wild pitches.

Will he get a sixth start?

“I don’t know,” says Manager Tom Lasorda. “We’ll have time to think about that.”

Wetteland’s own explorations seem to go off in unusual directions. A year ago, when he was a young prospect up from Albuquerque, he was characterized as a charming Bohemian. Now, as he struggles, much of the charm is gone.

“I’ve been through a couple of weeks of depression,” he says. “It was only natural. But the depression never got to the point of affecting my confidence. I believe I have good stuff. I still believe I can get hitters out. As long as you feel that way, you’ll be OK. It’s when you doubt yourself, that’s when you lose it.

“A slump doesn’t bother me. Anyone with any ability is going to have one. The worm is going to turn. Everybody goes through slumps. I’m in a terrible one, but I’m going to come out of it, too.”

He had a 2-0 lead in the fourth inning, which he started by walking Eric Davis and Paul O’Neill and skimming a pitch off the back of Todd Benzinger’s helmet. With the bases loaded and none out, he escaped with only one run scoring, a fact in which he took pride.

However, an inning later, Chris Sabo reached base when Alfredo Griffin fumbled his grounder. Billy Hatcher singled to left. Wetteland wild-pitched the runners to second and third, and then threw Barry Larkin a high changeup.

Larkin slashed a low line drive that short-hopped the fence before left fielder Kal Daniels could take three steps. The runners scored, the Reds had a lead they never would lose and Ron Perranoski came out to pull Wetteland, a suggestion that Lasorda’s patience is wearing thin.

“I feel like I took something positive out of this start,” Wetteland said. “A couple of weeks ago, that (Larkin) hit might have come with the bases loaded. That was a big step for me.

“I hadn’t been doing a good job of taking mental notes while I was out there. Tonight I did.”

He says he noticed a problem: in warmups, when he was relaxed, he took a nice, short rocker step backward before stepping forward in his delivery. However, when Red baserunners and anxiety hit, the rocker step became faster and longer, the plane of his body changed and his pitchers started coming in high.

“Very simple,” Wetteland said. “Very simple. If I do that, wherever I’m throwing, wherever I’m aiming the ball’s going to go high.”

Is he worried about his future with the Dodgers?

“That would be very unprofessional,” he said. “The job at hand is the job at hand. You can’t be wondering if you fed the dog. That’s an extraneous thought and it’s unconducive to doing the job. How are you going to do the job if you’re worried Fido’s mad at you?”

How, indeed?

Wetteland says he doesn’t know what the Grateful Dead lyric means. He says before this one, he had one above his locker that said, “It smelled of bloody plaid.” He doesn’t know what that one means either, but thinks it would be a neat way to start a mystery novel.

“So I could lose everyone from the start,” he says.

The mystery of Wetteland continues.