Rickey steals hearts

Saturday, February 27, 1999

-- PORT ST. LUCIE, Fla.

Roger Cedeno hasn't told Rickey Henderson the truth. Not yet, anyway. Tell him about treasuring his baseball card as a teenager, hanging his poster on his bedroom wall in Valencia, Venezuela, every day imagining himself as his hero -- leading off first base, sure to go, just daring the pitcher, the catcher, anyone, to throw him out. Tell Henderson that?

No, no. Cedeno shakes his head and laughs on a stool in the Mets clubhouse.

"Just not comfortable enough yet," he said, but just understand Cedeno has had the time of his life this week. He's hanging with Henderson. They played cards for an hour Friday morning in the clubhouse, shagged flies in the outfield, ran sprints, the willing pupil staying close to the old man ticketed for the Hall of Fame.

"The best part is the way I remember him as a 13- and 14-year-old, walking around full of confidence, aggressive on the bases, he's like that now," Cedeno said.

"Just look at him. Can you imagine looking like that when you're 40? He's amazing to me, just like he was back then."

Henderson turned 40 on Christmas Day and vows it didn't make him blink. Feels 20 again, he swears. He's perfect for these Mets. They were desperate for a leadoff hitter, desperate for speed, desperate for charisma. He walked into his introductory news conference, wearing a suit and sunglasses, proclaiming the Yankees' dominance over the Mets dead.

Classic Henderson: I'm here, we're winning. Any questions? It isn't obnoxious, it's just Rickey, straight out of the poster on Cedeno's bedroom wall. It's such a blessing for the Mets colorless clubhouse.

All these years later, the swagger still makes him special. He stole 66 bases for the Oakland A's a season ago, the oldest player ever to lead the majors. He has a record 1,297 for his career, leaving Lou Brock a distant second, 359 behind.

The changing game tells Henderson his record could stand the test of time. It tells him there's still a chance for him to dominate. He sees fast, young players fearful of stealing bases and he thinks they've got it all wrong. Maybe stealing bases is a little harder now. The relief pitchers are experts on holding base-runners, the catchers have stronger arms, offenses rely on power.

While Henderson lost a little of his edge, he has lost none of his nerve.

"You've got guys stealing [a lot of] bases, but not like us back in the day, Tim Raines and Vince Coleman, getting 90 and 100 stolen bases," Henderson said.

Think 61 home runs stood for a long time, try Henderson's 130 steals in 1982.

"I can still take a game over on the bases. When I get out there, they'll pay attention to me. Or I'll be on third base.

" . . . It's not just the pitcher -- everybody is watching to see what I'm going to do. If I need to get to the next base, I'm going to run. There's nothing you can do to stop me from running. Can the catcher throw me out? That's the question. If he [does], I get up and run again."

He fears nothing -- least of all coming to the Mets for his 20th season as a major-leaguer. He loves the stage. When Billy Martin pushed the Yankees to trade for him in the winter of 1984, he had Henderson pegged perfect for the market.

"Billy always said my style was built for New York," Henderson said.

It wasn't uncommon for Henderson to visit with fans in the left field bleachers on down time, exchange a few words, a few laughs. Sometimes, they loved him. Sometimes, they listened to George Steinbrenner and the press doubt his desire and turn on him. Always, they were watching.

People still remember 1987, the questions about his claim of a pulled hamstring. Most probably forget he was vindicated, that Steinbrenner apologized to him. "The doctor told me: 'You don't have a torn muscle. You tore your whole hamstring. Look, it's down there, behind your knee.' I was shocked. I thought my career was over. I was about to go kill everyone in the organization."

It never ended right for him with the Yankees, but he gets a chance with the Mets. There's talent, huge talent. Beyond his play, Henderson understands he can make a difference here. The young players have an open invitation to visit his locker, Cedeno on down.

"Don't be afraid of me, of what I've accomplished, of what kind of player I am," he said.

Just this week, there were some younger Mets asking Henderson about his secret for staying so fit. There's no mystery, just 150 sit-ups and 150 push-ups every day of his life. Mostly, it's a state of mind for Rickey Henderson, the swagger, the fearlessness, a suit and sunglasses for a New York news conference, and always, always, believing you're still the man in the poster on a kid's bedroom wall.

Readers who wish to communicate with Adrian Wojnarowski should write to him in care of The Record Sports Department, 150 River St., Hackensack,N.J., 07601, or fax him at (201) 646-4428.

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