Tuesday, April 06, 1999
Young's makeover more than hair color
BY TIM SULLIVAN
The Cincinnati Enquirer
Now the story can be told. Dmitri Young dyed his hair to match his glove.
The Cincinnati Reds' outfielder, heretofore known as a defensive liability, is now prospecting for gold. He switched positions this spring — from left field to right — and found a home and more range. He opened the season resolved to revise his reputation, and the results so far are remarkable.
“My goal was not to be taken out in the seventh inning for defensive purposes,” Young said Monday afternoon. “They can test me all they want. I plan to have a lot of assists that way.”
Young threw out two baserunners in the Reds' 11-8 Opening Day loss to the San Francisco Giants — one less than his outfield assist total for the en tire 1998 season. He
snuffed Rich Aurilia at home plate in the fourth inning and Jeff Kent at third base in the seventh, demonstrating the best arm Jack McKeon employed all day. This may have been an aberration — Young also had three infield singles, and how often is that going to happen? — but it was no accident.
If he is not yet ready for a Gold Glove, Young can no longer be considered a catastrophe-in-waiting. In the space of one spring, Young's defense
has been upgraded from sub-par to (almost) superb. His confidence has been vindicated. His efforts have been rewarded.
“Dmitri Young improved incredibly in spring training,” Reds coach Dave Collins said. “I've never been so impressed with a young player's work ethic, and it's really paying off for him. He's fairly solid out there now. If he wins a Gold Glove, I may have to dye my hair.”
When Young showed up in Sarasota this spring, he was burdened by the image of a defensive butcher. The Reds had acquired Mike Cameron to play center field, ostensibly to cover the ground Young and Greg Vaughn couldn't, as the organization abandoned its traditional emphasis on outfield speed in favor of power.
Young was tired of being typecast, however. He resented the idea that he was a one-dimensional player, and he wanted more of the late-inning at bats he figured to lose to defensive replacements.
So he spent most spring mornings refining his fielding before the Reds' regular workouts, learning how to play the angles and better read the ball off the bat. Collins taught him to take his eye off the ball in order to get to where it was going more quickly, to rely less on his sight and more on his senses. He introduced drills in which Young would deliberately turn the wrong way before giving chase to the ball. He found his pupil both willing and able.
“You want to be a complete ballplayer,” Young said, holding his son, Owen, with sure hands. “Because I've moved around so much — third base, first base, left field, right field — I never could get enough experience at any one spot. When I moved to a different position, people expected me to get an A-plus out there immediately. I got knocked all the time for something I was working hard on. I didn't think it was fair.”
Even last year, while establishing himself as a bona-fide big-league bat, Young battled the perception that he was a designated hitter in disguise. He was big and bulky and sometimes appeared baffled by the crack of the bat.
“We'd ask him what brand of skates he had on,” McKeon said. “Once he lost the ball, it was "Watch out.' Now he picks the ball up very quickly.”
Young still has an ordinary arm by right field standards, but he has learned to compensate by charging basehits aggressively and getting rid of the ball promptly. Both of his assists Monday were made with on-line, one-hop throws, proving that an outfielder needn't own a rifle arm if he is quick on the trigger. The Giants may be slower to seek the extra base next time.
“They didn't show me any respect,” Young said. “Even after I got the ball, I saw their guys going. People are probably going to test me until I do it a few more times. And I will do it.”
Outfield assists are sometimes a misleading statistic. The best outfielders get fewer opportunities to throw runners out because their arms are so intimidating. But you still have to throw people out in order to get them. Atlanta's Andruw Jones and Florida's Mark Kotsay led the National League last year with 20 assists.
“Andruw Jones is what you call a "specimen,'” Dmitri Young said. “The guy can do it all. Except switch-hit.”
Dmitri Young does switch-hit, but he does not compare himself to Andruw Jones. Not yet, anyway.
“I wouldn't call myself a "specimen,' ” he said. “I'd call myself one hell of a baseball player.”
Enquirer columnist Tim Sullivan welcomes your E-mail at tsullivan@enquirer.com.
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