Finally, A Job For Alex

Next to Elisha Graves Otis, Alex Rodriguez is the name in vertical mobility.

Take 1995: up with the Seattle Mariners all spring, optioned to Tacoma to start the baseball season.

Recalled in May. Sent down three weeks later.

Back up in June. Returned to sender after 15 days.

Flying high in July. Dogged in August. Remembered in September.

The final totals: five up, four down - quite possibly a major league record for the Triple-A shuttle, non-Steinbrenner division. And this after playing at four different levels in the Mariners system in 1994.

Bringing us to the question: is this any way to treat your next franchise player?

“Basically,” said Rodriguez, “they didn’t have any choice.”

But just in case the 20-year-old shortstop was of a mind to take offense or hold a grudge, the Mariners called spring training to order and installed him as the starter for 1996 - and for keeps, presuming he doesn’t do anything Offermanesque.

If the M’s muffed the graceful succession, the only one who can muff it now is Rodriguez.

“It feels good because I earned it,” Rodriguez said. “And if I don’t do the job, then I expect them to get me the hell out of here. But to me, I’ve earned it. They’ve made a commitment to go with some young guys on the left side of the infield and I think that’s good.

“I think I’m going to be here for the next 15 years.”

Obviously, just months out of his teens, Rodriguez hasn’t yet taken any upper-level Mariners history classes. Shortstops come and go in Seattle - nothing like the 40-odd left fielders in the past seven years, but often enough.

Craig Reynolds, Mario Mendoza, Todd Cruz, Rey Quinones. Spike Owen lasted three seasons. Omar Vizquel stayed for five and was as revered as if he’d paid his dues in the Phinney Ridge Little League - though the way he Hoovered up ground balls had something to do with it.

But Vizquel is no longer a Mariner because Rodriguez is. His name and Seattle’s came up together first on the board for the 1993 draft. Little O’s free-agent number would come up in time, and you know baseball.

Never pay now when you can pay later.

Later is now. The need to have someone with better range than Felix Fermin or Luis Sojo as the everyday shortstop and Rodriguez’s own considerable gifts have conspired to rush a 20-year-old into one of baseball’s more demanding jobs.

No, he’s not your average 20-year-old.

He’s been rushed here twice before, but two partial seasons in the minors have proven the absurdity of keeping him down on the farm any longer. When not worrying about I-5 traffic flow delaying his big-league callups last year, Rodriguez hit .360 in Tacoma.

In Seattle, however, he hit just .232.

“I can honestly look back on my numbers in the minor leagues and say I did what I needed to do,” he said. “So far what I’ve done in the major leagues isn’t that great, but I did some nice things on a winning team last year.

“Going up and down like that didn’t get discouraging because I looked at the big picture. I wasn’t sent down because I wasn’t ready or couldn’t play. It was a numbers game. Lou (Piniella, the manager) explained that to me. It was a unique situation. I was sacrificed for winning - and that’s fine, because we kept winning.”

Piniella very much wants to keep winning. He thinks he can with Rodriguez as his regular shortstop, but he can’t mask an almost native distrust in young players.

“He has to make the plays in the field,” Piniella said. “Look, he’s hitting ninth, so we’re not counting on him to produce a lot of runs. But he has to make plays defensively.”

So in the early days of spring training, the M’s had Rodriguez and second baseman Joey Cora out in the field about the time their teammates were rolling out of bed - trying to develop some badly needed double-play chemistry. Only the White Sox and Red Sox played worse defense than Seattle last year, and no American League team had fewer double plays.

“Defense has to be the priority for a shortstop,” Rodriguez said. “If I’m a first baseman or an outfielder, it would be different. What I hit will be a bonus, but I don’t plan on being a liability, either.”

But at this point, Rodriguez is more swinger than hitter. He’ll struggle at the plate, and many nights won’t look anything like a No. 1 draft choice.

“You look at the list of No. 1 draft picks overall and the only guy who’s become a tremendous superstar is No. 24 over there,” said Rodriguez, nodding toward the nearby locker of Ken Griffey Jr. “The No. 1 pick doesn’t mean you’re going to become a superstar. It means someone saw something in you that made them think you’re going to be a good player, an established, long-time player in the league.

“That’s me. I’m ready to start now.”

Going up.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color photo

The following fields overflowed: CREDIT = John Blanchette The Spokesman-Review