Can’t-Miss Prospect Is Hitting His Stride

Through no fault of his own, really, Torey Lovullo proceeds through life as a cautionary footnote. He and Chris Pittaro are the ones--the reasons baseball writers now wink and smirk every time Sparky Anderson raves about the latest prospect to ride in on the bus from Toledo.

According to Anderson, Lovullo was going to be the next . . . what?

“Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle,” Lovullo deadpans, rolling his eyes as he relives the hype. “I can’t remember what name he used. But he said I was this can’t-miss prospect. He said, ‘I’ll die before he comes out of the lineup.’ ”

Five years, two organizations and no George Anderson obituaries later, Lovullo cracks an ironic smile.

“I was a can’t-miss prospect,” he says, “who missed.”

Anderson administered the kiss of death at the end of the 1988 season, after watching Lovullo play all of a dozen games. A month into the 1989 season, Lovullo not only was out of the Detroit Tigers lineup, he was out of the majors.

The next Hank Greenberg was hitting .115 at the time.

From Detroit, it was back to Toledo, and from Toledo, it was on to the New York Yankees, then down to Columbus, up to the Yankees again, down to Columbus again, and up to the Yankees a third time.

All told, Lovullo hit .176 as a Yankee.

By 1992, his new handle seemed etched in granite: Career Minor Leaguer. Lovullo led the International League in doubles, batted .295, had more home runs and more RBIs than a Clipper teammate named J.T. Snow . . . and was snubbed when the Yankees handed out their September call-up list.

“I felt so slighted,” Lovullo says. “The Yankees had so many minor league prospects, plus they had Mike Gallego, Pat Kelly and Charlie Hayes, at the time.

“I had no chance at all of making the big league squad. There was no room for me there.”

So Lovullo came to Anaheim, where, traditionally, there is more than enough room for failed projects and blown-out prospects. The Angels took one look at Lovullo and saw the next Bobby Rose.

And that was good enough for them.

So now, at 27, Lovullo sits and waits for an inside fastball to slap Damion Easley on the left wrist. Who could have guessed that it would happen Sunday? In the second inning? With extra innings and four rare at-bats just lying there for the taking?

Lovullo took them and refused to drop them. His RBI double in the sixth inning forged a 5-5 tie with the Oakland Athletics. His RBI single in the eighth inning forged a 6-6 tie.

When it came time for the game-winner, in the bottom of the 10th, Lovullo delivered that as well--his one-out double to left field scoring Tim Salmon for a 7-6 victory and a series victory over the beasts that used to haunt the Angels in their sleep.

This was Lovullo’s second curtain call of the young season. The first, two Sundays ago, was a fifth-inning home run that helped beat Roger Clemens.

Torey Lovullo, Mr. Clutch?

Not quite, not if you put the question to Lovullo. Lovullo’s self-described job description: “The big thing is, I don’t want my teammates to say, ‘Oh, God, there’s Torey up at bat again.’ ”

Reggie Jackson, I believe, might have worded it differently.

But that’s the thing about expectations. Once you fail someone else’s, your own tend to plummet.

“Here was Sparky Anderson--this great manager, the Big Red Machine and all that--making these predictions about me,” Lovullo says. “I didn’t want to let him down. I put so much pressure on myself to prove him right.

“I was 23 years old, and I was taking the weight of the world on my shoulders. I was too immature. I couldn’t handle it. I fell apart.”

Across the Angel clubhouse, Snow is conducting another interview. Snow is 25. He has been labeled the next Don Mattingly, has been asked to make us forget Jim Abbott and, through Sunday, was leading the team with eight home runs and 23 RBIs.

“That’s why I admire that guy so much,” Lovullo says, nodding in Snow’s direction. “I know exactly what he’s going through, what the expectations are. He has the mind of a champion.”

Lovullo’s professional mindset, meanwhile, was molded by losing. He lost with the Tigers, with the Mud Hens, with the Yankees. It wasn’t until Columbus ‘92, when the Clippers won 101 games, that he learned there was another side.

“I used to be a loser,” Lovullo says. “I lost a lot of games with the Detroit Tigers and in the minor leagues. We’d get behind in the games and I’d think, ‘Well, we’ve lost this one.’ ”

Lovullo also broke in on teams “with grumpy old guys. That’s not much fun. I’d be biting my tongue, wanting to say something, but I couldn’t.

“I like the attitude so much more here. We have a bunch of enthusiastic young guys who think they can win. I’m not playing in half the games, but I’m high-fiving everyone in the dugout. I belong here.”

Last month, the Angels played the Tigers, enabling Lovullo and Anderson to cross paths again. Yes, the two were seen together in public. Not only that, they spoke.

“He said, ‘Hey, it’s good to see you in the big leagues, congratulations,’ ” Lovullo says. “He said, ‘You’ve shown you can deal with adversity.’ ”

Lovullo only wishes “I could have come through for him. But now, I’m older. I’m more mature.”

He realizes he’s not going to become the next anything.

The first Torey Lovullo?

Now there’s a start.