A Year Later, Brave Camp Back to Normal

By PAUL NEWBERRY

Feb. 25, 2001 12 AM PT

ASSOCIATED PRESS

KISSIMMEE, Fla. — John Rocker strolls through the Atlanta Braves clubhouse wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and warbling a tune.

“Super freak, super freak, she’s super freaky,” he sings to no one in particular.

He doesn’t have to worry about hundreds of reporters and cameramen -- “ding-a-lings,” in Rocker-speak -- monitoring his every move. In fact, he draws little attention as he glides from his locker to various back rooms beneath the stadium, a picture of constant motion much like the fidgety left-hander the public sees on the mound.

It’s been a year since the Braves closer sat out the first two weeks of spring training for making offensive comments about gays, minorities and immigrants. (He would also miss the first two weeks of the regular season, as well, under a reduced suspension imposed by an arbitrator.)

The hundreds of media members who converged on central Florida a year ago has dwindled to no more than a dozen reporters on most days. Life is back to normal for the Atlanta Braves.

“There’s not as much tension or dissension, whatever you want to call it,” said third baseman Chipper Jones, one of the team’s leaders. “It’s baseball as usual. It’s the way it should have been last year.”

Ahh, last year. Rocker sparked outrage during the 1999 offseason when a magazine reported his comments attacking New York City and others. He questioned how so many immigrants got in the country. He referred to homosexuals with a derogatory term. He even described a teammate as a “fat monkey.”

During the tumult, Rocker basically declared himself off-limits to the media, issuing a couple of apologies in well-rehearsed statements that allowed for no questioning. In the meantime, his teammates were left to fend off the hordes.

“You had a lot reporters and media in here asking questions about a situation that didn’t have a lot to do with you,” said outfielder Brian Jordan, one of Rocker’s most outspoken critics last season.

“I know there were plenty of guys that were getting sick of that at the end of last year,” reliever Kerry Ligtenberg added. “It was a pain

Not this year. On the first day of camp, there were 10-12 members of the media on hand, nearly all from the Atlanta area, and the number hasn’t varied much since. So far, the biggest issue of camp involves Gary Sheffield’s demand to be traded, preferably to the Braves or one of the two New York teams.

“It’s been kind of boring,” pitcher Greg Maddux quipped. “At least last year there was always something to think about and plenty of crude remarks behind closed doors. Now, everyone’s legit.”

Even so, Rocker’s jaded view of the media hasn’t improved during the offseason. Clearly, he still holds the entire profession at fault for his troubles.

One day, when approached by a reporter, Rocker responded with a vulgar comment. The next day, an interview request led to this exchange.

“Sooorrryyy!” Rocker chortled. When the reporter asked if this was a one-day ban or a permanent silent treatment, Rocker replied, “It depends on what kind of mood I’m in. And I’m not in the mood to talk to you fellows today.”

So, another reporter asked if he should check back with Rocker each day to ask if his mood had improved. “Only if you want to annoy me,” the pitcher said.

Rocker did speak publicly on the first day of camp this year, but only to pronounce that this year’s camp was different than last year’s because “there’s about 200 less of you ding-a-lings.”

Otherwise, he refused to comment about anything in the past.

Rocker hasn’t had any major blowups since making profane, threatening statements toward Jeff Pearlman--the Sports Illustrated writer whose story led to Rocker’s suspension--when the two happened to meet in a Turner Field tunnel before a game in early June.

“That was unacceptable,” Jones said.

Rocker was sent to the minors the following day, though Braves management insisted that it was because of his control problems on the mound--not with his mouth. The pitcher talked of leaving baseball and becoming a stock broker, but he eventually accepted the demotion.

“All we ask is for him to go out and perform his job with as little fanfare as possible,” Jones said. “We’re used to getting a lot of attention on this club because we’re usually involved in a pennant race. We don’t need any distractions on the inside affecting that. At certain points last year, it did.”

After Rocker returned from a brief stint in the minors, he began to get his pitches closer to the strike zone and reclaimed the closer’s job in the second half of the season. He wound up with 24 saves--down from 38 in 1999--and a 2.89 ERA.

The Braves managed to win their ninth straight division title, but they were swept in three straight games by St. Louis in the first round of the playoffs. It was their earliest postseason exit since the streak began in 1991.

“I don’t know if (Rocker’s situation) affected us last season. Maybe it did,” Jones said. “It didn’t bring us closer together, that’s for sure. I can’t say we really rallied around it. It was not a good time.”

Jordan referred to Rocker as a “cancer.” For the first time in several years, there were clear divisions in the Braves clubhouse--usually one of the most tranquil in baseball.

“Maybe it taught guys to kind of keep things within the family and not talk so much about certain things,” Jones said. “It was just bad all around.”

But Maddux scoffed at the notion that the Braves were affected by Rocker’s ravings.

“I’m here to play ball. Why should I care about what the other 24 guys say?” Maddux asked. “I’m not going to let one guy bring me down. I’ve got too good a life.”

Still, the Braves reminded a salary arbitration panel of all the turmoil caused by Rocker when he asked for a salary of $2.98 million this season. The arbitrators went with the team’s offer of $1.9 million.

This spring, Rocker is working on a split-finger fastball to give him another pitch to throw to righties. He dropped his changeup, deeming it too much of a finesse pitch for a pitcher who’s been clocked in the upper 90s.

Off the field, Rocker seems to have few close friends on the team. He spends much of his time with minor leaguers and the young “clubbies” who wash uniforms, polish shoes and keep the clubhouse clean.

But the Braves are willing to put up with Rocker as long as he saves games and maintains a semblance of civility.

“I certainly hope this ordeal is behind him,” Jones said, “so he can go back to being the pitcher he was two years ago.”