Detroit Free Press from Detroit, Michigan • Page 66

St3 fao3 Cfffit DETROIT FREE PRFSSSUNDAY. JUY 16. 1978 6E Should an athlete take his big money now or later? Ow Gcoigo Passas Still, if you figure tne dollar deflating at eight percent per annum, as it has tended to do, the final term of Campbell's contract will deliver him dollars worth 4 cents. That is not quite a nickel, which can't buy a cigar or candy bar even today. You might make note of that if you intend to stick around for an extended period.

SO YOU SEE WHAT looks on the one hand like a very dandy deal, for Earl Campbell as the million-dollar contracts which abound in sports today seem for so many players is not really all that over the long term. What they are dealing with in most instances is funny money, phony money, which not only distorts their own future, but also upsets the marketplace and indeed the title race in many arenas. Not being privy to details of Luther Bradley's contract with the Lions, one still can assume that here is a very smart young fellow who says pay-me-now, or I'll see you much later. "I think the people at Merrill, Lynch were advising him," said Thomas, rather approving it all. One also can assume that Luther took his 1 50,000 bonus on a contract considerably less than Earl Campbell's $1.5 million.

The real difference is that Luther has his now and either can blow it or multiply it, at his will and at his own pace. It is mere coincidence and has nothing to do with the matter at all that in second day of practice, Luther pulled up lame for the Lions. "Personally I don't like deferred payment contracts, although we've had a few," says Thomas. "They distort true values; I'd rather have everything on a pay-as-you-go basis." More directly, deferred payments of player salaries is like operating a business on a credit card, the holder using the merchandise and paying on the long term with cheaper dollars. THOMAS IS TEMPTED, in fact, to blame the deferred payment contract for the rapid escalation of player salaries in all sports, suggesting what is involved then is not today's hard dollar but maybe a wooden nickel.

A case in point is Earl Campbell, who from word bandied around will take $50,000 annually as actual salary from the Houston Oilers for the next five years, clipping $250,000 from his $1.5 million contract. Unaccustomed to the fancy world of Mercedes and Rolls and ocean-front verandas common among sports' superstars, Campbell looks upon 50Gs as blessing and salvation. For the moment, he needs little more to ease his family's drudgery. The remainder of his contract will be deferred: dollars over the following 10 years, dollars over the next 10 and so on. Thus in the year 2018, Earl Campbell will be drawing his last salary check from the Houston Oilers.

It seems on the one hand a great move, avoiding heavy immediate income taxes and assuring oneself of income from age 22 to the grave, or at least to gray. Recalling his youth in the scrub, Earl Campbell cannot forget those long, thorny hours among the rose bushes, and especially his big sweet mama down on her knees in the hot dirt As a relentlessly poor black kid growing up in Texas, Earl and his mama and a crew of Campbell kids cultivated and harvested the sweetest flower, and shipped them off to queens. So when the moment came for him to become a rich man everlasting, the thought never occured to send mama roses, or 'even wine. What he did was sign a contract calling for $1.5 million from the Houston Oilers football team, the payments to be spread over 40 years, and presumably putting the Campbells on their feet for a like period. Such is the story circulating.

One never can be exact with details, parties to such contracts suggesting outsiders mind their own business. Still the Earl Campbell contract as-told, if not typical, is at least illustration of how and why sports teams are able to push athlete salaries into a world known to few. "Almost all the million-dollar contracts you see in sports," says Lions general manager Russ Thomas, "are arranged with deferred payments." Deferred in this instance means delayed, in the future, down-the-Hne, someday and eventually. IT IS THE CASE with Earl Campbell, who, poor and struggling from breath one, assured his clan of pocket change, at least, until retirement grips him. He is the huge University of Texas fullback who last fall won the Heisman Trophy as the year's best college player, and thus became the most desited footballer when the professionals held their talent lottery in May.

The subject of multi-backs in player salaries arose during the impasse Thomas experienced last week in acquiring the contract signature of Luther Bradley, a defensive back from Notre Dame who was the Lions' No. 1 draft pick. Unlike Campbell, Bradley did not grow up poor, not enough so as to fear the spectre of such plight. In recent months, in fact, he has been preparing for the world of high finance as a junior employe of Merrill, Lynch, the huge stock firm based in New York. The problem he was having with Bradley, Thomas explained, was in determining true dollar value of a player who was not particularly interested in deferred payments of his salary.

hot line By Mickey Herskowitz send Steve Perkins Has Ralph Houk had enough? If he leaves, who will replace him? No chance of Redskins trading Kilmer to Rams "Now that Roman Gabriel is out of the picture at Los Angeles, what Is the possibility that Billy Kilmer will wind up with the Rams? I know George Allen has said he wants Kilmer." D.F., Norfolk, Va. A According to Kilmer, the possibility is zero. "Edward Bennett Williams is running the Redskins now," Kilmer told us, "and he sent down the word: 'Don't trade the Rams a jock strap. "He doesn't want to do anything that would help George look good out there. I think I'd have a shot at winning the Super Bowl with the Rams, but it will never happen.

They want to keep me around so they can blame me for the bad season we're going to have. I've asked them to guarantee me two years in Washington and they only want to guarantee me one." "Now that there is sudden-death overtime in the NFL, why do newspapers show a slot for tie games? P.P., Atlanta, Mich. A Though there was no tie game played in the NFL last season, there was one the year before (LA-Minnesota) when neither team was able to score during the extra 15-minute period. It's only in playoff games that a second extra overtime is decreed. A tie game counts as a half game won and a half game lost in figuring the winning percentage.

Until eight years ago, the NFL tossed out tie games as if they had never been played. The Chicago Bears won the 1932 championship with a record of seven wins, one loss and SIX ties (.875 percentage) over Green Bay, which was 10-3-1 that year (.769 percentage). "I recently read a series of articles, or part of a series, about the ladies pro golf tour. Perhaps I missed some of it, but was there ever any reference to lesbianism among the women golfers?" Mrs. J.G.K., Dallas.

A The series by a woman sports writer was written for The Washington Post, and it made only an oblique reference to the subject to the effect that there was some "concern" about the fact that so many of the tour regulars are single. (Obviously, no writer has ever expressed concern over the number of bachelors on the men's pro golf tour.) We are told, by one of the married women who has been on the tour a number of years, that lesbianism is a fading problem, unlike the days of 10 and 20 and 25 years ago when a victory was celebrated with passionate kisses on the 18th green. "How did Richie Zisk feel about leaving the Chicago White Sox after his success in 1977? Did the White Sox make a serious attempt to keep him?" D.S., Miami Beach. A The onetime Polish Prince of the South Side is now a happy Texas Redneck. "It's a short life," Zisk says.

"I'm just a businessman with a bat." Bill Veeck is committed to keeping the White Sox out of the free agent market. The Texas Rangers' deal with Zisk would have nearly bankrupted Veeck's personnel fund: $2,950,000 spread out over 10 years. "New Orleans and Philadelphia will play an exhibition game this summer in Mexico City. I was wondering if this has ever happened before?" F.F, Columbus, Ohio. A No pro football game has ever been played south of the border, though one was scheduled in 1968, the summer university students rioted.

Two games have been played in Tokyo and eight in Canada. (The NFL office also counts a Honolulu game two years ago as a "foreign" contest, but has since been advised that Hawaii is a state.) The first football game played on foreign soil, other than 1890 contests against McGill University of Canada, was between LSU and the University of Havana in 1907. A crowd of 10,000 paid $10 each to see it, and LSU won 56-0, possibly because Havana players had filled their own water buckets with wine. By JOE FALLS ree Press Sports Writer ANAHEIM Ralph Houk sits in front of the bus, quietly, staring straight ahead, while his players behind him act like school children on a field trip. Who knows what is going through the mind of this man? Is 3ie thinking of quitting? Has he had enough of managing in the major leagues? Or is this whole scene, this whole scenario, such a part of his life that he just can't leave it.

Nobody really knows. It is not easy managing this team, especially for a man like Houk, who is one of the established minds of baseball. He is a disciplined man. He learned it as a paratrooper in World War II and then as a member of the New York Yankees' organizion. He sees how his players dress and how they act and it is all foreign to him.

They never did it that way in his day. He doesn't say anything because he knows it won't do any good. WHEN THE TIGERS win they are singing on the bus. Even when they make it close they are humming Houk suffers in silence. He can tolerate this conduct.

He might even start singing with them if they were winning. It is their endless mistakes on the field which grates at him. They blunder almost every game, sometimes every inning, and he cannot do the thinking for them out there. The players like him well enough because he is never really on their case. Houk is not as popular with the fans.

They see the record, no better than in the past, and they boo. They are expecially disenchanted after the fast start gave them such hope this season. Houk dislikes the booing. If anything can drive him out of his job, it is the treatment he gets in Detroit. But he is also tough.

He is tougher than many people think. He can lash out at his critics, but he is also strong enough to hold a lot of it in. A SURPRISING FACT is that he has lasted longer than most of the managers in Detroit. Already he has been on the job longer than Mickey Cochrane, Red Rolfe, Del Baker, Fred Hutchinson, Bob Scheffing, Charlie Dressen, Billy Martin and Mayo Smith. If he comes back next year it will be his sixth season, and he will tie Ty Cobb and Steve O'Neill in longevity.

Only Bucky Harris, with seven years over two terms, and Hughie Jennings, with those 14 years in the early 1900s, will rank ahead of him. 3 Houk's strong point is that he has Jim Campbell on his side. still believes Houk is the right man for the job. Z' Campbell, in fact, is proud of the managers he has picked in -Detroit. He feels they were all the right men at the right time.

ZZ He has selected Charlie Dressen, Mayo Smith, Billy Martin and Houk. Dressen came along to handle the kids of the 60's (the Hortons, Stanleys, Northrups, Freehans, McAuliffes) be-fore Smith took over and let them play. It resulted in a World Championship. Martin took over in the early 70s when these kids had become veterans, and he got the most out of them to win a division title and come within two runs of getting into the World Series. AND IT HAS BEEN HOUK in this second rebuilding phase of Campbell's career, and the one thing Campbell is trying to exhibit is patience.

The Tigers have some more promising TPlayers in their farm system, notably pitchers, and Campbell is -trying to hang on until it all comes together. He is lucky that the fans have stood by this team, they have supported the club so far, and ticket sales are good for the rest of the season. But even Campbell must wonder how long they will be patient. This brings up the big question: If a change in managers is made, who will be the next man? considered managerial material. Too quiet, too reserved.

He is happy warming them up in the bullpen. Les Moss The Evansville manager is well thought of by the management in Detroit, but only as the Evansville manager. They like the way he teaches and they like the way he works them. He is very demanding, but you get the idea he does not have the presence to move into the big job. Eddie Brinkman The go-go guy of the early '70s, the leader around the clubhouse and on the field.

He is managing at Montgomery, the No. 2 farm club, and they like the job he is doing with the kids at that level. That seems to be Brinkman's future, working with the kids. His best in Detroit would be as a coach. If a change is made, Campbell again will have to go outside of his organization, and it is just possible he would try to hire Whitey Herzog of the Kansas City Royals.

Herzog has a lot of traits Campbell admires. He has background in the front office as well as on the field, and he is one of the most highly respected men in baseball. Herzog works only on a year-to-year basis with the Royals. That's because he knows he can get a job almost anywhere else, if not as a manager then as a farm director; if not as a farm director then as a general manager. He is that much in demand.

If the Royals win the Western Division again he'll probably be back with them again next season. If they don't make it Herzog could be available for another job. He would be accepted by the, players, management and media in Detroit. All he'd have to win over are the fans and that isn't too difficult to do. Win a little and they are yours.

Campbell is an organization man and would like to promote from within. But he doesn't have many options. He doesn't have anyone in his system who is ready to step into such a responsible position. Consider the coaches alone: Dick Tracewski If anyone has a shot at the job it is Trixie. He has been in the organization since 1966, and some think he is Campbell's No.

1 man, his contact in the clubhouse. Houk likes him, too. Tracewski not only is dedicated to the Tigers, he is dedicated to baseball. But nobody gives you the idea he will get the job. Fred Hatfield They brought him up because they liked the job he did at Evansville and it was a way to reward him.

But he has fallen into disfavor with Houk, who has removed him from his third base coaching job because of repeated errors. Freddie The Hat is not afraid to criticize the players, but nobody takes him seriously because he is pretty much of a free spirit. They just look at him as Freddie the Hat. Fred Gladding Somebody has to be the pitching coach because somebody has to make sure they all do their running. This is Gladding's job.

Nobody takes him seriously. Houk makes all the decisions regarding his pitching Gates Brown The Gater is the Gater, glad to be along for the ride. They have him around because he talks the player's language. He fills a need and enjoys every moment of his job. But to be the boss? Never.

Jim Hegan Even before his heart attack, he was never Rusty is a fussbudget, but no one laughs at his 100 RBI By JOE FALLS Free Press Sports Writer ANAHEIM Late Friday morning. Almost noon. A solitary figure is jogging around inside the Kingdome in Seattle. He is moving slowly, almost nimbly. The pace never varies.

Clop, clop, clop, clop, clop. Seven times, eight times, nine times around the field. travels with the Tigers begins spraying his ankles. Trainer Bill Behm tapes his ankles, a routine that is nine years old. RUSTY THEN DOES 50 situps in front of his locker.

Behm comes back and tapes some pads to his heels so tiie back of his shoes don't rub against his skin. Now Staub gets onto the trainer's table and Behm stretches his leg muscles, paying careful attention to the hamstrings. Staub has the trainer rub some ointment into his back and shoulder muscles to keep warm. Then he does 10 pushups by his locker, arranges his bats and gets dressed in his game uniform. He is ready to play ball.

Staub is the designated hitter, which means he is needed only four or five times a game. Most of his time is spent in the clubhouse. He skips rope, listens to the radio and works a crossword puzzle "anything to keep me sane if I've done something like line into a double play." He seldom watches the Tigers in the field. AFTER THE GAME he cuts the tape off, shaves, showers and does some weight exercises with his wrists. Then it's off for a few hours of fun with his friends.

Perhaps a light seafood dinner at Fox 'n Hounds in Bloom-field Hills or a steak at John Laffrey's at Seven Mile and Telegraph. He earns more than $150,000 as a fussbudget. WHEN THE TIGERS were in Texas he ran around the airport, through the open fields. When the team arrived in Anaheim he went to the ball park and ran again. It depends if the clubhouse man will open the dressing room for him.

Staub runs every day the Tigers are at home. He lives in Southfield and does his work at a local high school. His days are carefully planned, almost to the minute. It begins at when he gets up and calls his restaurant in New York. He checks with them every day.

Then it's off to the high school and a dozen laps around the track. He gets lunch, and it is always light. A steak. A salad. Iced tea.

HE READS THE box scores at lunch. In fact, he studies them at length. When the Tigers are in Detroit Staub gets to the ball park at precisely 3:30. That gives him a chance to look at his mail and take a 90-minute nap. He has his own cot across the hall in the rookie room.

They wake him up at 5:45 and he begins his daily ball park ritual. He limbers up a little and then puts on a sweat shirt and goes outside to take batting practice. Everybody is in full uniform but Rusty. "It is a waste," he said. "All they wind up with is a wet uniform.

I save them a shirt a day this way." He takes some grounders at first base not so much to loosen up but to refine his skills. Eighteen minutes in all. This is Rusty Staub at work, doing it his way. They laugh at this man. A lot of people in baseball laugh at Rusty Staub.

Even some of his own teammates laugh at him, though never to his face. They mock him because they think he is too proper. They think he is too precise. They think he is little more than a fussbudget. He is proper.

He is precise. He fusses like an old granny. He is also a 100 RBI man. For the day when the Tigers trade him and somebody wants him to play in the field again? "You've got to be prepared," he says. BATTING PRACTICE IS a precise exercise.

He bunts twice, once down to the third base line, once down the first base line. Since batting practice is shortened on the road, Staub bunts only once and varies the direction each day. Then he plays hit and run, pulling one ball into the hole between first and second, sending the next through the gap at shortstop. He hits a few through the middle and then lets it all out and tries to crush the ball. "A lot depends on who is pitching," he says.

"If it is a tough lefthander or a righty who is going to keep the ball outside all night I'll ask for the pitches on the outside part of the plate. Or if they're going to come inside I'll ask for them In there." Back in the clubhouse he removes his sweaty clothes and lci UICIH mugu. Oii.l Clank "I've got my little routines," Staub says after getting back to the hotel. He gets up at a certain time, eats lunch at a certain time and gets to bed at a certain time. 7 They may laugh, but he was the only guy out there working "Friday morning..