Padres Say Jefferson Won’t Listen; He Says They Talk Too Much

NEW YORK — Early one recent afternoon in Montreal’s Olympic Stadium, Stanley Jefferson was spotted in the visitors’ clubhouse with a two-mouthfuls-of-teeth smile. Smiles these days are as rare as base hits for Jefferson, so he offered an explanation.

“I’ve just been down in the batting cage,” Jefferson said, wiping his wrist across his forehead. “I work best in the batting cage. Nobody to bother you. Just you and the machine.”

If only everything were so simple. In the two seasons since coming to the Padres from the New York Mets in the winter of 1986 at age 25, Stanley Jefferson has hardly found himself alone.

It has been Jefferson and Expectations. Jefferson and Promises. Jefferson and Criticism. Jefferson and Advice.

On opening day this season, after he hit just .230 in 1987 and nearly brawled with the manager, Larry Bowa, it was Jefferson and New Start. Three weeks later, with his average at .105, it was Jefferson and The Minor Leagues.

Finally, last week, after being recalled July 26 only to struggle again, the precocious center fielder was taken out of the lineup in an outfield switch that could leave him out. Not just for this year, but for good.

Now he really is alone. And why? At least one Padre coach says it’s because that’s the way he wants it.

Batting coach Amos Otis recently said Jefferson’s problem is that he won’t listen to anyone, whether it concerns a batting stance or a possible winter assignment in Puerto Rico.

“In my first year, I knew I wasn’t ready, and I accept that I wasn’t ready,” said Otis, a former five-time All Star for the Kansas City Royals. “Stan has to accept that. He has to learn to start from scratch. But he won’t.”

Otis, who lately has been sitting next to Jefferson on the bench and talking to him throughout games, said sometimes it’s like talking to the proverbial wall.

“I have tried and tried to talk to him, and I haven’t gotten through,” Otis said. “Once we start talking about batting, the talk stops.

” I can understand wanting to do something your way. But your way doesn’t work, you’ve got to change.”

Otis said the more Jefferson has struggled--he is hitting .155 and has started once since Tony Gwynn moved over to take his spot 10 days ago--the worse it gets.

“Stan is one confused kid,” Otis said. “He is looking for it and can’t understand why he hasn’t found it. Tell you what--hard work will find it.”

Otis was referring to winter baseball in Puerto Rico, where the Padre bosses have hinted they would like to see Jefferson play. Everyone seems to be in agreement on it--except Jefferson.

“I would love to see him play there, it would be a good chance for him to get over the hump,” Otis said. “I remember I used to watch Mark Parent during the season and think he couldn’t hit, and then he went to winter ball, and it completely turned him around.

“But Jack (McKeon, manager) asked (Jefferson) to play last year, and he wouldn’t. And I guess he doesn’t want to play this year. It comes down to one thing. If you want it, you will work on it.”

Jefferson, who has a wife and two young daughters, thinks winter ball is not the best place for that work. He has different thoughts than the Padres on a lot of things.

“Sure, I could go down and do well in winter ball, but then what?” asked Jefferson, who has played in Puerto Rico once. “I’ll come back to spring training, and will I be better off than I am now? I don’t know how that could help the situation here change.

“The thing is, I’ve done it everywhere, at every level . . . except here. The only way I’m going to improve here is to do it here.”

Countered Otis: “He doesn’t understand. He thinks doing well in triple-A is the same as the big leagues. No way. You see three good pitchers in every big-league series. You see one good pitcher in every minor-league series. You can struggle against that guy and wear the other guys out and still have a good average.”

Jefferson has indeed done it everywhere else. In parts of five seasons in the minor leagues, he hit .294.

Yet in parts of three seasons in the big-leagues, he has hit .215. He has failed to draw walks--just 48 in 153 games as a Padre--or display the kind of smart hitting that any team would need in a leadoff man.

Jefferson said it’s difficult to look smart when everybody is telling him how dumb he is.

“When I was sent down to the minors this year, I was left alone and found my hitting stroke all by myself,” said Jefferson, who hit .317 in 74 games in Las Vegas. “But I wasn’t back in San Diego three hours before I was getting advice. Everybody is telling me what to do and how to do it. I didn’t get this much advice in elementary school.”

Jefferson said the constant schooling works on him like an inside fastball.

“I’ve got all these negative feelings running around in me, and I can’t shake them loose,” he said. “Mentally it’s been very tough. I’ve got to get those negatives out of my system somehow.

“My wife said that just watching me, she can tell I don’t look comfortable. And I don’t. Everywhere else I’ve been comfortable, but not here.”