Romping Toward the Recordbooks

George Brett and the Royals are tearing up the opposition

George Brett arrives at the ballpark hours earlier than most of his teammates, hanging around the clubhouse playing hearts while he waits for a quorum to form. Once enough playmates have arrived, Brett is first on the field, shagging flies in the outfield, playing pepper on the side, joking with fans in the stands, gamboling around the bases after he finishes his turn in the batting cage. "Young Willie Mays must have been like this," Reserve Kansas City Royals Utility Player Jamie Quirk once said of Brett. "To George, playing baseball is just plain fun."

For George Brett, 27, baseball has become more than fun. Not since Ted Williams' .406 season in 1941 has a hitter been so close to the elusive .400 mark this late in the season (as of last Friday, Brett's batting average was an eye-popping .402). To the Royals' fine young third baseman, the game is a romp, a rollicking ride toward the record-books. Since recapturing his form after an early season ankle injury, Brett has been on a batting tear that has lifted the Royals to the best record in baseball (78 games won, 44 losses) and a formidable 15 1/2-game lead over the rest of the American League's Western Division. After the All-Star break in early July, shell-shocked pitchers watched him go on a 30-game hitting streak, hit safely in 39 of 41 games and compile a phenomenal .467 average for the period. He swings for singles, not for the fences, but in just 87 games has 91 runs batted in. With candor as refreshing as his playing style, Brett admits: "I keep telling myself that this can't go on, it has to end. It's like a dream. I hope I don't wake up."

Brett's dream is the nightmare of American League pitchers. Baltimore Orioles Pitcher Scott McGregor, a high school teammate of Brett's in El Segundo, Calif., suffered a typical fate during a recent match-up with him. Trying to protect a 1-run lead, McGregor gave up a bunt single. Brett stepped up. He nicked off five foul balls that were not quite to his liking. In between, he stepped out of the batter's box to talk to himself, a sotto voce monologue designed to keep up his confidence. "I'm hot," Brett informed himself, an assertion no pitcher would dispute. "I'm gonna get a hit."

At last came the pitch he wanted.

Brett cocked his right knee back slightly, strode forward, then whipped the bat in a flat, smooth swing. The result: a screaming triple down the rightfield line and another RBI. Said McGregor: "I gave him some of my best stuff, but George kept hanging in there until he got the pitch he wanted."

The youngest of four sons, Brett grew up in long shadows. All three of his older brothers played baseball professionally. One of them, Ken, made the major leagues as a pitcher who could also hit.

George recalls: "When I was playing high school ball, a lot of scouts would come to our games because the school had a reputation for producing good teams. The scouts were all the time being told, 'See that guy? That's Ken Brett's brother.' "

George Brett's real batting success began when he met Batting Coach Charley Lau during his rookie season in 1974. Lau changed Brett's style from a power pull-hitter to a spray-the-field batting machine. Though he had never hit .300 in the minor leagues, Brett quickly developed impressive consistency. He won the batting title in 1976 with a .333 average and has an overall average of .310 for his seven years in the majors. Says Brett of his old coach: "I tried to be like Yaz, but

I didn't have the strength, the quickness or the experience. Charlie got me to hold the bat parallel to the ground, to wait for the pitch and to hit to the opposite field. It used to be that the only time I hit a ball to leftfield was when I swung late." Says Royals Manager Jim Frey when asked what batting advice he gives to Brett: "I just say, 'Attaway to hit, George.'"

Those who thought that converting a slugger into a singles puncher was a waste of talent did not count on Brett's aggressive base running. Scattering infielders with bone-jarring slides, he has led the American League in triples three times. Says Brett: "I love to try to stretch hits. That's as much of a thrill as the hit itself."

His buccaneering style has cost Brett in injuries over the years. He even has a reserved room at Kansas City's St. Luke's Hospital. Says he: "Room 4430, that's my room.

It's right by the nurses' desk. I think they want to keep an eye on me so I don't sneak out the side door."

But only hospitalization can cramp Brett's style, off field as well as on. With a new $1 million-a-year contract and his lakeside house, Brett is Kansas City's reigning bachelor king.

With a lead of some 50 points in the race for the American League batting title, Brett stands a good chance to be this year's Most Valuable Player (his chief competition at this point: New York Yankee Slugger Reggie Jackson). In addition to his own achievements he is the Royals' indispensable spark. When Brett was out for 35 games, Kansas City barely kept going, winning 19 games and losing 16. Since Brett's return to the lineup, the Royals have won 31 and lost just 10.

The Royals' rout of the American League West has shored the confidence of a team that has played frustrated bridesmaid to the Yankees in recent years. Three times Kansas City reached the American League playoffs, only to be eliminated by their bitter rivals. This year, however, the Royals have solid pitching from Starter Larry Gura (17 wins, 5 losses) and Reliever Dan Quisenberry, who leads the league with 27 saves. Quisenberry got a few spring-training tips from Pittsburgh Pirate Kent Tekulve, master of the sidearm sinker. Now his pitches bear a marked resemblance to Tekulve's.

Eager to avenge their postseason swoons, the Royals look to their carefree superstar to extend autumn to the World Series. After all, October is the time when baseball really gets to be fun.

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