Philadelphia Daily News - August 7, 1980

Feisty Moreland Aims To Catch On with Phils

Whiz Kids ’80 By Stan Hochman

Last of three parts

He has a Huck Finn face and a Mickey Finn temper. And one day last summer, Keith Moreland raised more dust than anyone had seen in Oklahoma City since the great drought of '06.

"I went nuts," is the way Moreland remembers it.

"We were at home, playing Denver. I had a chance to drive in my 100th run. We're getting beat, 14-2. One pitch bounces up there, one is over my head, one is way inside, and he calls me out. I went crazy.

"I got kicked out. Cost me some dough. But I got my money's worth. Put on a real show."

He looks like Tom Sawyer and plays golf like Tommy Bolt.

"I HAVE," HE CONFESSED sheepishly, "a ton of bent 5-irons. Miss a shot, I’ll wrap a club around a tree. See, I hate to lose. Whether it's baseball, golf, cards, or anything. I guess one of the worst things I ever did was throw a backgammon set against a wall."

The dice do not always come up double-six for Moreland. He did not always drive the runner home from third in Oklahoma City, even though it seemed that way.

"If we ever needed a hit needed a run-scored." Mike Ryan said, "I'd look up, and if Moreland was at bat, I'd relax and say, 'That's the guy I want up there." Game on the line, he was at his best."

Ryan managed Moreland in Oklahoma City in 1978. Last year, the strawberry-blond, freckle-faced catcher wound up with 109 RBI and 21 game-winning hits before the Phillies summoned him in September.

"I like driving in runs," Moreland said. He said it the way guys say they like strawberry ice cream, mushroom pizza or chili dogs, the words splashed with saliva.

"Everybody likes to drive in runs. And I don't know if I do anything different with men on base. You have to realize I was hitting fourth down there. Lonnie Smith was leading off. Orlando Gonzalez was in front of me too and he had 160 or 165 hits.

"ALMOST EVERY TIME I GOT up there, one of the first three guys was on base. That helps. Plus, I just like to hit with men on base."

When Bob Boone's knee blew out Moreland hit .375 last September. This year, he is hitting .326, playing occasionally as Boone battles back from surgery.

"Keith loves to play," Ryan said. "He is just a natural hitter. He can look bad on one pitch and come right back and rope the next one. He makes contact on some of the toughest pitches you'll ever see. Just flicks at 'em."

Moreland has hit wherever he's played, including the Texas State fairgrounds, with 80,000 on hand to watch Texas-Oklahoma in football. It is his catching that concerned people, mainly because he is so new at it.

"He's adequate," Ryan said, in that blunt Irish way of his. "He can do the job for you. He won't embarrass you. He may not look like the most polished receiver, but he'll get the job done. He's got good instincts, he retains well. You tell him something, it sticks. I see Keith Moreland as an everyday catcher down the road."

Boone is 32, last year's All-Star catcher. If the road isn't blocked, it is certainly cluttered. Waiting on the shoulders, shoulder-to-shoulder are Ozzie Virgil and Don McCormack.

Moreland puts a tight rein on his bronco eagerness and praises Boone with Texas-style phrases.

"BOB BOONE IS A PHENOMENAL player," Moreland said. "In great physical condition. He is professional in every way. If there's anything I have to ask him, he's more than happy to answer. He wants to win, he is a winner. He plays hard every time out and we can't win without him."

There is an ironic similarity in their careers. Both started as third basemen. Moreland went from walk-on to All-American at Texas.

"I had a football scholarship to Texas," he said. “They told me when they recruited me I could play baseball and miss spring drills, but only if I was a regular in baseball.

"One year, though, I should have come back as a starter in football, but they'd dropped me to third string because I'd missed spring practice.

"Anyway, I was just a walk-on in baseball. I was an infielder. Third turned out to be the only place I could play. The guy playing short is now playing pro ball in the Seattle organization. The guy playing second is in Triple-A. That left third base.

"What kind of fielder was I? I could hit! Ahhhh, I had good hands, soft hands. I couldn't have become a catcher if I didn’t have decent hands."

The Phillies stuck him behind the plate in the Florida Instructional League, sensing a horse of another fire department.

"My second full year," Moreland recalled, "they'd brought three catchers down there. One got hurt, one had to go home. They were down to one catcher. They asked me, 'You wanna try it?'

"IT WOULD GIVE ME ANOTHER position besides third and first. Danny Ozark came down to watch us play. And that winter I got invited to the big-league camp as a catcher, after only catching 15 games. They sent me to Double-A the next year and I struggled. I thought maybe my career was on the downhill side.

"But I kept hitting. And then I realized that if I kept hitting, they'd find a way to move me up the ladder.

"I worked at catching. But in the beginning, I spent so much time running back to the screen, all my teammates ever saw was the number on my back.

"I remember Bru (Warren Brusstar) was pitching and he'd beat my thumb to a pulp with that sinker he throws. I got to enjoy it, everything about it. At third base, half the time I'd be asleep, wondering about my next at-bat Catch and you can't do that."

He rode that potent swing to the big leagues, where he faces the toughest role of all, part-time catcher.

"I know I've got to improve," he said. "I want to learn more every year, even if I play 10 more years. I watch the best-fielding shortstop in the league take 100 ground balls every day, so I know you have to work.

"Not being an everyday player is toughest on a catcher, though. If you don’t catch for 20 days, it takes you at least a couple of innings to get the feel of things. Getting set, not moving too quickly and giving the pitch away.

"I TRY TO STAY READY. I MAKE sure I run. I do a lot of throwing. Once a month I work on blocking balls in the dirt Not 100-mile-an-hour pitches, but somebody throws 'em at me, to see which way they spin, which way they bounce. I catch batting practice every two weeks for 10 minutes to keep from blinking. And, mainly, I watch Bob Boone."

He is 6-feet tall and the press guide says he weighs 200 pounds. Someone has rounded off the number. Dallas Green makes sure the number does not get too round.

"He's been super," Green said. "I can stay on his butt because he has a tendency to get heavy. He knows that when I get on his butt there's the suspicion he might not be working hard enough. So, he works twice as hard. He's got a great makeup, a tough Texan that wants to win.

"I think he can be as good as a lot of everyday catchers in the big leagues. He may not be in the Top 10, but he can play here. And his bat will carry him over the rougher humps."

Green has been using Moreland, Lonnie Smith, Bob Walk in key spots, mainly because Boone, Greg Luzinski and Larry Christenson were hobbled.

"Not that there's anything against older guys." Moreland said, "but it is satisfying to see the younger guys get a chance.

"DANNY, HE DIDN’T LIKE young guys. We knew it. Your chances were slim and none. Dallas, he brought the younger guys in. Now, if we can gain respect, we'll contribute. A World Series, that's a dream of mine.

"If I've made any progress it's in keying down. I'm still gonna get angry, but I'm not gonna bust helmets and embarrass myself or the team. It's strange. I'm not a yeller or a screamer. But I've done more of that this year than when I was an everyday player.

"I watch Pete Rose. I've never seen anybody go out there day in and day out and compete as hard as he does. I don't care whether the guy is 21 or 39."

The Young Turks have helped on the field, and in the clubhouse, filling a vacuum with joyful enthusiasm.

"I think that's a misdemeanor," Moreland said, borrowing a phrase from the Danny Ozark book of quotes.

"You don't have to have a family thing. It's a team game. Guys go out and play hard, you can win.

"I watch Mike Schmidt hit a homer the other day, he was excited. I see the Bull, supposed to be non-emotional, start a comeback year with a home run opening night, he was excited.

"A lot of guys keep it inside them. Maybe they're not all rah-rah guys, but this isn't football, with pre-game speeches and pep rallies.

"If we play as hard as we can, I know we're gonna be all right.”