Columnist Ron Kantowski: There’s a catch in this year’s batting race

Thursday, July 29, 2004 | 9:49 a.m.

Ron Kantowski is a Las Vegas Sun sports writer. Reach him at ron@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4088.

Here it is, the last week of July, and Ivan Rodriguez is leading the American League with a .353 batting average.

That's shocking on two counts. First is that Rodriguez plays for the Tigers, who seemingly haven't had a guy hit for average since Alan Trammell in the "Bless You Boys" days of the 1980s. (Get outta here with that Bobby Higginson stuff). Second is that Rodriguez is a catcher, of all things.

The last time a catcher won an American League batting title was ... never. There have been 103 American League seasons, but nary a one where the Silver Bat was engraved with the name of a guy who is listed with a "C" in the boxscore.

It's pretty much the same in the National League, where there have been three backstops who won batting crowns, but none since 1942, when Ernie Lombardi sort of earned his second one. I say sort of, because those were the days when catchers only had to appear in 100 games to qualify.

Lombardi wouldn't have won the title in '42 if today's parameters were in effect. He caught in 85 games and pinch-hit in 20 others and finished with just 347 plate appearances, roughly half of runner-up Enos Slaughter's (.318) total. Today, only those with 502 plate appearances need apply.

What's remarkable in this era of inflated offensive statistics, where even shortstops have bulging biceps and pound the long ball, is that the top offensive catchers really haven't surpassed those of the flannel uniform days. Of the top 10 single season batting averages posted by catchers, only two have occurred since 1975, when Mike Piazza hit .336 in 1996 and then .362 the following year.

That .362 season was the highest batting average ever posted by a catcher, which I guess is what you would call Piazza, although opposing baserunners (and pitchers on his team) may beg to differ. Unlucky for him, in 1997 Tony Gwynn (.372) had yet to begin supplementing his diet of sunflower seeds with Quarter Pounders, so the Padres' hitmeister could still go from first to third without the use of a golf cart.

Rodriguez runs well for a catcher, especially for one who answers to "Pudge," and hits better than most (.307 career batting average). But part of the reason Rodriguez is such a big story now is that by September he probably won't be.

While there probably are a lot of Pudgecicles remaining in his bat, it's frozen ropes by guys who run like gazelles that win batting titles in the dog days of August.

"If it gets as hot in Detroit as it is here, there ain't no way," said Las Vegas 51s president Don Logan, assessing Rodriguez's chances. "Can you imagine being a catcher, putting on all that gear? And he's got to be in there (the lineup) for them to have a chance.

"He plays the most demanding position and then there's the way he plays -- he plays his (butt) off. He's been on a mission in a lot of respects, because he didn't command the type of money (in the free-agent market) he thought he had earned. Obviously, you can say now he was the key guy in getting the Marlins to where they got."

Logan went on to say the usual things about the way a catcher plays defense and how he handles a pitching staff being more important than the way he swings the bat. "It's a bonus when they can hit," he said.

Of course, that's after they turn professional. Before that, like in Little League, the best players/hitters tend to congregate in the middle of the diamond -- pitcher, shortstop, center field. At that age, catchers are usually fat kids who can't seem to keep their shirts tucked in, like Engelberg in the "Bad News Bears."

So maybe catchers being .230 lifetime hitters is preordained.

Of course, there are exceptions. I had a Little League buddy, one of the best players on the team, who wanted to be a catcher. Until he learned that he also would be responsible for hauling the big Army green duffel bag containing the "tools of ignorance" -- mask, chest protector, shin guards and yes, the dreaded protective cup -- to and from the coach's Country Squire. Then he became a left fielder.

Perhaps if Rodriguez had made the same choice, he'd have at least a couple of Silver Bats in his trophy case. This is not the first time he has been in contention for a batting title at the Fourth of July.

In 1997, he was fourth at .343; in 1998, he was second at .351; and in 2000, he was third at .361. Then the humidity kicked in. Rodriguez has finished among the top 10 in batting average just three times with a high of seventh.

Already, his grip on the crown, which had been as high as 27 points after a red-hot June in which Rodriguez hit an amazing .500 to boost his average to .381, seems to be slipping. A 1-for-4 night Wednesday left Rodriguez just 11 points ahead of Seattle's Ichiro Suzuki.

Still, there are those who believe it's only a matter of time -- but not another 103 years -- before a catcher overcomes the law of averages.

"I don't buy the theory that a catcher can't win a batting title," Pirates backstop Jason Kendall told ESPN.com. "If you know how to pace yourself and stay strong, there is no reason a catcher can't win it."

A few years ago, the once fleet-a-foot Kendall appeared to be the best candidate to end the long drought for catchers before a collision at first base pulverized his ankle.

"Pudge has been around a long time," Kendall said of Rodriguez, 32. "He knows what it takes to stay strong for a full season."

That might be enough -- if the Tigers played the Royals more often. Still, Rodriguez has given anybody who has worn his hat backwards (before the Beastie Boys and Ken Griffey Jr. started doing it), taken a foul tip off the Adam's apple or caught both ends of an American Legion doubleheader on a steamy Midwestern Sunday when the home plate umpire was in no hurry to get home something to rally around.

Somewhere, Engelberg is cheering.