Tuesday, June 3, 2003 | 9:55 a.m.
Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at [email protected] or (702) 259-4084.
I've always had a soft spot for Matt Williams.
I was still fairly new to Las Vegas in the spring of 1986 when I got the assignment of covering the UNLV baseball team, and I saw every home game that Williams and his teammates played that season.
He was the best player on the team, of course, and a nice enough guy. Always a little on the quiet side, he capped a three-year run with the Rebels with a superlative season that led to All-America honors and a bonus contract with the San Francisco Giants, who made him the third pick in that year's amateur draft.
Now here we are 17 years later and, for the first time since signing with the Giants, Williams is out of a job. He was designated for assignment over the weekend by the Arizona Diamonbacks, which means they have 10 days to trade or release him.
UNLV's best-ever baseball player might be at the end of the line at the age of 37.
If he is -- and it's probably no better than 50-50 that a contender has a need for an aging pinch hitter and occasional third baseman -- my only hope is that Williams can accept this forced retirement with a grace that would include a smile and the ability to see himself and his career in a favorable light.
The latter isn't automatic.
Williams, for a long time, has struck onlookers as troubled. Not troubled in the sense of disgruntled or belligerent, but troubled by life and the cards that were dealt him.
A messy divorce certainly didn't help. Nor did something of a distant relationship with teammates.
Nor did a seemingly endless succession of injuries.
On the disabled list on something of a yearly basis in the past decade, Williams could curse his luck. At the very peak of his ability, 1994, he led the National League with 43 home runs while playing only 112 games.
Had Williams played the full 162 that season and hit even 19 more home runs, Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa would be but footnotes today. Instead, they enjoy the towering legacy of having brought down Roger Maris' home run record, while Williams can only speculate on what might have been.
He never hit more than 35 home runs in a single season again, as the injuries progressed from debilitating to almost crippling. One thing after another -- including a broken foot, a severe quadriceps strain and a broken ankle all since 2000 -- interfered with his career, waylaid his emotions and made him the target of boos from unsympathetic fans.
He added a strange batting habit -- licking his left shoulder as he readied for a pitch -- that was, at the least, curious, and a little disconcerting. It was easy to wonder if the affliction was symptomatic of something else, perhaps of the pressure he was under at home and by having to play with a broken-down body.
He finally resolved the issues with his wife and took custody of the couple's three kids. That attachment led to him declining a trade this past winter to Colorado, and it might very well keep him from pursuing another job in baseball.
He gets $10 million this year, no matter what. And he has exceeded what anyone could have expected as he was growing up in Carson City.
It may have escaped his attention, but there are many in this state and elsewhere who appreciated his career.
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