Lack of Hitting by Big Three Is No Laughing Matter for Pirates

By BOB NIGHTENGALE

Oct. 9, 1990 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

PITTSBURGH — Andy Van Slyke, the team humorist, stood in front of his locker Monday in the Pittsburgh Pirates’ clubhouse, trying to accommodate wave after wave of reporters coming to him, looking for answers.

He reeled off a few one-liners, keeping his reputation intact, and then joked about his real reason for not wanting this National League championship series to end early.

“The longer we can keep this thing going on,” Van Slyke said, “the more I get to procrastinate doing the household chores I’ve got waiting for me. I’m hoping it will go long enough where we end up hiring someone to do all the stuff.

“Hey, I’ve got too much golf to play this winter to do my deck and finish the basement. Do I look like a guy who’s a carpenter?”

Van Slyke laughed, along with the reporters surrounding him. But then he suddenly stopped, wondering why he even had allowed himself the pleasure of smiling.

He was in no mood to be funny, really, not with the Pirates’ predicament. In fact, if he wasn’t surrounded by reporters, he might kick a chair halfway across the room.

The Pirates, losing 6-3 to the Cincinnati Reds, are staring at a two-games-to-one deficit in the best-of-seven series.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not at all. The Big Three of Barry Bonds, Bobby Bonilla and Van Slyke were supposed to bring home the pennant, resurrect memories of the Lumber Company, and allow everyone to forget the Pittsburgh drug trials of 1985.

This, after all, is a trio which combined for 82 homers and 311 RBIs in the regular season, batting .288.

Now, with the entire baseball world watching, the three are batting .207.

They have come to the plate with 29 runners on base, driving in only two.

And they’ve had trouble enough getting the ball out of the infield, much less hit one out of the ballpark.

Red second baseman Mariano Duncan, of all people, has twice as many runs batted in as this entire Pirate starting outfield.

The Pirates, as a team, are batting only .216 this series, scoring eight runs, and is three for 25 (.120) with runners in scoring position.

But it is the Big Three that’s being blamed for the demise, and in particular, Bonds, the favorite to win the National League Most Valuable Player Award.

“He’s certainly the guy I feel most sorry for,” Bonilla said. “He had such a good year all year long, and now that he’s in the public eye, he can’t come up with the big hits.

“It’s a shame is what it is.”

“Really, it’s a little tough to swallow for all of us.”

Van Slyke, the only one of the three who has playoff experience, met privately a week ago with his outfield partners, counseling them on the pressures to be faced.

Sure, he told them, the entire baseball world will be watching, and what happens during the playoffs will be illuminated more they can ever imagine. But relax, he told them. Have fun. It’s still the same old silly game.

“He talked to us about all of that, and I felt good after hearing what he had to say,” Bonds said. “I didn’t think there’d be a problem at all. I guess I’m like everyone else, I thought with all of our guns we’d win this thing.

“But the pressure man, all the pressure, it’s tough. I’m going to lie to you, the pressure of going after that ring makes it hard.

“I’ve got no excuses. I really don’t. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Bonds, just like Bonilla and Van Slyke, had the opportunity to put the Pirates ahead early in the game, making sure the Nasty Boys were kept locked in the bullpen.

He stepped to the plate with his team trailing by a run in the fourth inning, runners on first and second, and none out. He told himself to relax, but before he could gather his thoughts, he found himself swinging at the first pitch, popping up to shortstop Barry Larkin in foul territory.

“That shows you what I’m going through,” Bonds said, “I’m so overanxious right now, I’m swinging at anything. I think we all are.”

Meanwhile, the Reds continue pinching themselves in hopes that the Big Three do not awaken before it’s all over.

“Over a course of a season, those guys would probably kill us,” Red first baseman Todd Benzinger said. “But you can’t say that in a short series. I hate to say it, but with the way they’re going, they might not even be a factor.

“It’s funny to us, because we see how they’re all pressing. You’ve got to relax in this game, but they’re so tight, they can’t do anything right.

“But, hey, do me a favor, will you? Don’t tell them that. I don’t want to give them any ideas that will help them.

“You know the old saying, ‘Let a sleeping giant sleep.’ We’d be morons to say something stupid and wake them up now.”