Don’t Go Overboard on Release of Valenzuela

There are several accounts to be settled today in connection with the dropping by the Dodgers of Fernando Valenzuela, Prince of Sonora.

The outpouring decrying this act almost has been more than one viewing with cool detachment is able to bear.

The Dodgers have uncoupled an honest worker, an interesting worker.

But if this symphony of rapture, these extravagant tributes to Fernando’s art continue, the case must be turned over to the great arbitrator, who, with judicious sorting, will set the record straight.

It will be noted, to start with, that Fernando, up until the time in 1988 he started malfunctioning, never rejected the opportunity to pitch. Three days rest, four days rest--Fernando took the ball when it was handed to him.

It will be pointed out, too, that Fernando behaved himself--no drugs, booze or gambling, no misconduct on the field.

Fernando never advanced beyond the eighth grade but made an effort to encourage young people to stay in school.

Fernando threw a screwball but wasn’t one. He was a common-sense trainer, not overly occupied with exercise--no aerobics, iron pumping or excessive running.

He didn’t indulge in Eastern meditation or seek the ministrations of chiropractors, hypnotists or acupressure artists.

He avoided herbs, wheat germ and diets featuring, say, bananas and free-range chicken. He didn’t play tennis and, more important, he hated fishing.

You can see there are things to be said in Fernando’s behalf.

But when those applauding him break loose from their moorings and link Valenzuela professionally to Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale, we are forced to interject sobering reminders.

In the interest of common decency, please don’t even start to compare Valenzuela to Koufax. In his last four years with the Dodgers, Koufax won, in order, 25, 19, 26 and 27 games.

Pitching in four World Series, he dispensed an earned-run average of 0.95. Once a game began, few pitchers in baseball dominated it as Koufax did. The ease with which he fanned batters was awesome.

I mean, no wasted throws. Three pitches--out.

Little surprise Koufax lands in the Hall of Fame on the first ballot.

Drysdale was the Dodgers’ water buffalo, rarely missing a turn, cranking out victories year after year, uncomplaining, injury-free. Before a game one day, the lid of a soda pop case falls on his pitching hand. He doesn’t even tell the manager. He asks the trainer to “freeze” the hand and he works.

Drysdale rides into the Hall of Fame, too. Fernando won’t get there. It is no felony if he doesn’t. Carl Erskine, known in a certain borough as “Oisk,” never got there.

Johnny Podres never got there, nor did Don Newcombe.

But a lot of Dodger fans who saw them aren’t sure they wouldn’t have opted for all three over Fernando.

To the doorsill of Fernando, this doesn’t bring shame. It is mentioned merely to suggest that however you choose to decorate Valenzuela, don’t get carried away.

In public, Valenzuela usually was correct. Those in the Hispanic community watching him from a distance revered him. He had a good image outside the Hispanic community.

But many asked to deal with him day to day won’t miss him desperately. He often was rude and temperamental, a performing diva who made an international case of merely talking to one.

He had a habit of rejecting you. Then, having established his importance, he would send word, usually through the Dodger press department, that he would see you. In your presence, he would be civil.

He wasn’t a lot better to Latinos in the media. A Spanish-speaking broadcaster, miffed at his attitude, said to him one day: “You have changed, Fernando.”

Fernando answered: “Yes, I have.”

But such vignettes of life mattered little in the final judgment of the Dodgers, who count dollars.

They face a contract calling for $2.55 million this season for a pitcher winning five, 10 and 13 games, respectively, the last three years. Inspecting this entertainer in the spring, the Dodgers ask themselves: “Have we gone loco?”

They buy out the contract for $630,494.

Whatever the next mission of Fernando, he has the blessing of all, as long as he isn’t likened to Koufax and Drysdale or portrayed as a caballero, gracious, lovable and warm.