Garciaparra’s a Quiet Hit

Nomar Garciaparra would make an effective espionage agent. He swears allegiance to the greater good, doesn’t flinch under pressure, and if captured, wouldn’t reveal any secrets.

He is interrogated nearly every day at his locker, corralled by media and forced to squint into bright lights. He is unfailingly composed and polite. He flashes a puckish smile.

But rarely does he utter anything of substance.

Reporters scribble down his every word, but it’s as if the quotes were written in invisible ink. By the time they are transcribed onto a laptop, only vapors remain.

“All I care about is whether we win,” he replies to almost any question.

Pressed on how he gets his job done, he gives up this: “I try to simplify my thoughts. You focus on what you have to do to get the job done, and nothing else.”

Guarded responses were understandable several weeks ago. Everyone asked about his recovery from two injury-marred seasons, the learning curve at his new first base position, and the rib-cage injury that sidelined him the first two weeks.

Lately, his actions are his answers. Garciaparra is the Dodgers’ hottest hitter, flourishing in the No. 3 spot in the batting order and performing well at first base.

In 23 games, he is batting .337 with 25 runs batted in. Half of his 30 hits have gone for extra bases. He is batting .400 with runners in scoring position, delivering memorable moments ranging from a grand slam at Houston to walk-off hits down the first base line at Dodger Stadium in consecutive games to the two-run single that provided the difference in a 3-2 victory Wednesday at Colorado.

Just don’t expect insights afterward.

“I’m not thinking of it as being hot,” he said. “I just go through my routine every day and do my best.”

Perhaps it’s too early for a definitive pronouncement, but it appears Garciaparra has regained the prowess that enabled him to compile a .320 lifetime average. He’s not prematurely over the hill at 32, as some critics claimed. A sleeker physique hasn’t robbed him of pop in his bat.

He’s beginning to look like a bargain for the Dodgers, who signed him to a one-year contract for $6 million, with bonuses based on plate appearances that could increase the total to $10 million.

Just don’t expect him to play lead trumpet in his parade.

Has he changed his approach at the plate? “No. I try to get a pitch to hit, and I think about the situation as well.”

Does he feel more pressure with runners on base? “Nope. I put pressure on myself every time I walk to the plate.”

Speaking of walking, Garciaparra is doing it more often. He has drawn 11 bases on balls in 100 plate appearances after walking only 12 times in 247 plate appearances last season and 21 in 348 plate appearances in 2004.

Just don’t ask him to explain why the keen eye.

“I’m not looking for the base on balls,” he said. “I don’t have a reason.”

Manager Grady Little, who watched Garciaparra in 2003 and 2004 when both were with the Boston Red Sox, recognizes a difference.

“He’s shown more discipline than when he was younger, and he’s laying off pitches he didn’t used to,” Little said.

Garciaparra crushes anything over the middle or outside half of the plate. He’s batting .625 on mistakes over the middle and .404 on pitches high and over the middle. His average is .392 on pitches middle-away. He has put balls in play almost equally to left, center and right field.

Just don’t expect him to admit it’s by design.

“I don’t think about using the whole field,” he said. “Sometimes it just happens that way.”

His steady production with the bat has been accompanied by impressive consistency with his glove -- a first baseman’s mitt that he admitted felt strange to wear during spring training.

Garciaparra is the only National League first baseman with more than 100 chances without an error. A shortstop most of his 11-year career, he has more range and quickness than most first basemen, and his agility helps compensate for not being a large target.

“I’m still a work in progress there,” he said.

Reminded that earlier this season he said he had to think about “a million things” every time he went out to his position, Garciaparra’s eyes brightened. “Maybe it’s down to 950,000.”

Finally, a useable quote. Reporters scribbled it down and scooted to the press box, hoping the words wouldn’t vanish.