Many Umps Aren’t Struck By New Zone

Charlie Hayes saw a change right away. Actually, he heard it.

As soon as Frank Pulli called a strike on a pitch that seemed slightly below the knee, Hayes knew what baseball meant when it said it was lowering the strike zone.

“I definitely noticed a difference,” Hayes said after Pittsburgh played Minnesota on Thursday. “A couple of low pitches were called strikes that didn’t used to be called strikes.

“It’s just something you have to get used to as a hitter. It’s no big deal as long as the umpires are consistent in calling those pitches,” he said. “This is going to help the pitchers some, but you can’t sit around and cry about it.”

The question, though, is whether umpires - particularly ones who have been calling balls and strikes for years - will enforce the new rule that sets the lower limit as the hollow below the knee.

Bruce Froemming, beginning his 26th season as an umpire, said he didn’t change anything while working the plate Friday in a game between the New York Mets and Atlanta.

“Not me. Absolutely not,” he said. “I know where the strike zone is.”

So, not a single, new-and-improved lower strike? “Not a one,” he said.

Tom Hallion, an N.L. umpire starting his 11th full season, said the redefined strike zone was the hot topic at a recent umpires’ meeting in Florida.

“You had guys standing up and saying, ‘I can’t change my strike zone,”’ Hallion said. “My gut feeling is you’re going to have some guys it’s different for and some guys it’s not. I’m sure you’ll get some shinburners that some guys call strikes and others that some guys call balls.”

Then, there’s the perception. As in, with so much early emphasis on low strikes, hitters might be thinking they see a few more.

“I thought I saw a few today when I was standing out in center field,” said Gary Thurman of the Mets.

That despite Froemming’s contention that he didn’t call any.

Besides, offered Pittsburgh outfielder Jacob Brumfield, sometimes it doesn’t really matter.

“The thing is, when Frank Pulli is behind the plate, you know everything is going to be a strike anyway,” he said after Thursday’s game. “I guess I noticed a little difference but nothing major. I think we’re going to have to wait and see on this. I don’t know if the change is going to be noticeable or not until we play some more.”

Deck the hall

Earl Weaver, Jim Bunning and Nellie Fox will be on the list Tuesday when baseball’s Veterans Committee meets in Tampa, Fla., to consider candidates for the Hall of Fame.

Not since 1960 has there been a year in which no one was elected. The writers blanked Phil Niekro, Don Sutton and everyone else in January, so now it’s up to the 14-member Veterans Committee to avoid a complete shutout.

Last year, the veterans elected four people.

“We’re going to try to do the same thing this year,” said committee member Monte Irvin, a Hall of Famer himself.

Certainly, the induction ceremonies in Cooperstown, N.Y., this summer would be enlivened by having a living member on the podium. Weaver, who managed the Baltimore Orioles to five 100-win seasons, would love to be that person.

“Obviously, it would be the ultimate honor,” Weaver said this week from his home in South Florida.

Very foxy

Look for Cal Ripken, Ryne Sandberg and Lenny Dykstra to star in a series of ads Fox television is now shooting to promote its baseball coverage starting this summer. Hideo Nomo and Mike Piazza also are among more than 40 players taking part in the quirky spots.

In one, Ripken will appear as Hal Ripken, the laggard brother of Baltimore Orioles star. Hal, guzzling beer and living in a trailer park, claims he’s filled in a few times for his brother during Cal’s record consecutive games streak.

In another, Dykstra joins a grunge band in singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” There’s also one where Sandberg and Cubs teammate Sammy Sosa break into the hotel room of rookie pitcher Terry Adams, only to find him covered with sunflower seeds.

He’s just, well, wonderful

Last spring, replacement baseball brought us the nickname matchup of the year when Toronto pitcher Speedboat Jones faced his brother, Motorboat, a Cincinnati outfielder.

This spring, the exhibition season is only a few days old and already the player with the best name in baseball has emerged. He’s Wonderful Terrific Monds III and that’s his real name. He’s an outfielder in camp with Atlanta, and got his name when his great grandfather was so elated to see a boy after fathering 12 girls. Monds, 22, batted .279 and stole 28 bases at Class A Durham in 1995.