I was 10 when Jefferies came up. Man what expectations.

Huge baseball card buzz too. Topps didn't get him into the set until 1989, by which time I was in junior high. I got it in my first pack of 89 Topps, and it seemed like the whole school knew about it. People were coming up to me and saying "I heard you got the Jefferies rookie card."

This being the late 80s on Long Island, the entire town was Mets fans. I doubt there are towns like that anymore.

Jefferies was in my baseball blackout period, during college, so I missed that whole drama.

Funny, I had the same type of blackout, though it began a little earlier in my life because of the strike -- blackout began when 1994 ended, and I didn't really start paying any attention again until the 1999 playoffs, the year after I graduated.

No young ballplayer ever came to New York with the weight of expectations like Gregg Jefferies did when he first arrived with the Mets in 1987.

While the expectations placed on Gregg Jefferies were indeed incredible, to claim them as unique is to display ignorance of how the New York press treated nearly all young players, regardless of their true potential.

Yes, Jefferies was compared to Mickey Mantle. But just off the top of my head, I remember that a few years before Jefferies signed with the Mets, a young Darryl Strawberry was being compared to Ted Williams. About a decade prior to that, Dave Schneck was being called the next Stan Musial. And to bring this full circle, about a decade before that, Bobby Murcer was being called the Mickey Mantle. So it's fair to say that the New York media has a history of heaping unrealistic expectations onto many young players, not just Gregg Jefferies.

As to Jefferies now, he had a nice career for himself, and the article (well, the above excerpt, to be more precise; I haven't read the full article) paints the picture of a man who is enjoying his current life with his family. So good for him, and may he continue to do well.

DB

The 1988 or 1989 Donruss Gregg Jefferies rookie card (were those the Rated Rookies, or Future Stars? Rated Rookies I think) was the first card my friends and I really made efforts to acquire through purchase of many packs. Not like we gave a crap about him or the Mets, but the Beckett said it was worth $8 or some other massive sum.

Coincidentally, two sports talk radio guys in San Francisco, Bob Fitzgerald and Rod Brooks, were talking yesterday about going to a hockey game with Jefferies the night before, about the wild stories Jefferies told, and about how if he would put them down in a book, it would be well-read. This newspaper story suggests a more circumspect Jefferies.

I have a Jeffries rookie card. I looked it up about ten years ago and it's worth a nickel.

I was in college but did collect cards then and the Donruss Greg Jefferies was the big one everyone seemed to talk about. I seem to recall Rookie Card for Gary Sheffield was also big. I got the two confused all the time.

I was a huge Jefferies fan. I'm still bitter about what should have been.

Jefferies was pretty hyped outside of NY as well. He was a 19 yr old shortstop hitting .367 with power in AA and which led to a SI feature story.

But just off the top of my head, I remember that a few years before Jefferies signed with the Mets, a young Darryl Strawberry was being compared to Ted Williams.

Yup. Strawberry was hyped while in high school. The SI article on Jefferies I linked in my previous post also mentions Strawberry's adjustment:

The Mets are leery about bringing Jefferies up too soon partly because of the difficult time outfielder Darryl Strawberry had during his rookie year He was 21 at the time and came under a lot of pressure when baseball people compared him with Willie Mays and Ted Williams. "The hardest thing to deal with is the New York media attention," says Strawberry, who came in for a lot more of it last week because of an Esquire story in which he blamed his teammates and manager Davey Johnson for the Mets' failure to repeat as National League East champions last year. "All those writers, every single day," says Strawberry. "Nothing can ever prepare you for that. You can't compare a 20-year-old kid to a Hall of Famer because he'll only disappoint."

This newspaper story suggests a more circumspect Jefferies

or perhaps one with a lower blood alcohol content. . .

But only .282/.322/.395 in 504 AB in AAA in 1988. They should have left him at Tidewater the whole year and played him at 2B, instead of ss, which he was never going to play in the majors.
I remember him breaking Orel Hershiser's scoreless string (although in the post season). I also remember a Met crossing his name off the managers posted lineup card (1989?). If I were the manager I would have torn the team a new one in a meeting after that trick.

Jefferies, 42, coaches baseball at Pleasanton's Foothill High. His father Rich, a former scout with the Cubs, is his assistant.

Good for him.

Funny, I had the same type of blackout, though it began a little earlier in my life because of the strike

My baseball period was the summer before and the start of my first semester at MIT. It ended when I walked into the room of a friend who was also from New York, to discover that the Mets were in the NLCS. Then in the middle of the game, they announced that Agnew had resigned. So there I am, sticking my head out the dorm window, yelling to everyone who walks past that Agnew had resigned.

Shortly thereafter, somebody appended apiece of cardboard to the "Impeach Nixon" banner that hung in the dorm courtyard:

1 Down
1 To Go

Oh yeah, and I also remember the Gregg Jeffries frenzy and the SI article.

#13 I think it was someone (Randy Myers was the prime suspect) writing 'why aren't we trying to win this game" on the lineup card. Jeffries also charged the mound against former teammate Roger McDowell after grounding out to end the game. Perfect time for a bench clearing brawl.

As far as New York hype, it goes past Jeffries and Strawberry to Mantle, Clint Hartung (combination Ted Williams and Bob Feller) to Rube Marquard ("$11,000 lemon").

Jeffries was so hot in his first two weeks after his August 30, 1988 call up the New York media seriously began discussing if he could win the Rookie of the Year award with a month's work.

But at least Jeffries wore his pimp clothes as part of rookie initiation. Jeff Kent refused to.

But at least Jeffries wore his pimp clothes as part of rookie initiation. Jeff Kent refused to.

Yup, sounds like Jeff Kent right there.

Jeffries was so hot in his first two weeks after his August 30, 1988 call up the New York media seriously began discussing if he could win the Rookie of the Year award with a month's work.

Well, a 178 OPS+ in 109 ABs wasn't a bad run at it.

I went baseball dark for about three years after I quit playing. It was Pedro Martinez and the 1999 ALDS against the Indians that woke me back up, sophomore year of college. Helps that I got an internet connection at the same time.

Yeah--I can't imagine why anyone would decline to look like an idiot because it's traditional. Good for Kent. That takes a little guts.

The primary thing I remember about Jeffries is how the Mets jerked him around. I think Bill James got it just right when he wrote something like "the Mets figure Jeffries learned how to play 2B by watching for a week from 3B." It seemed like the club did everything it could to make his life more difficult.

Holy crap, Gregg Jefferies is only 42? Seems like he retired eons ago.

I remember him being the fat, terrible defensive 3B the Mets dumped on us in the ill-fated Saberhagen deal. He was pretty much hated in KC from day one because the beloved Sabes was dealt for a guy fairly or unfairly considered to be a bust (as well as Sleepy Kevin McReynolds and always injured Keith Miller).

I remember Jefferies being on the cover of the first SI I ever received through a subscription - I ended up keeping it and collecting the covers. It was a story about all the broken bats in baseball.


Jeffries was so hot in his first two weeks after his August 30, 1988 call up the New York media seriously began discussing if he could win the Rookie of the Year award with a month's work.

I don't know if he's the only player to ever do this, but he's the only one I know of who has received ROY votes in two different seasons.

Where's the Shawn Abner and Stan Jefferson love?

[10]

Thanks for the link. I still remember how involved Jefferies' father, a high school coach and P.E. teacher, was in his unique training regimen.

That's why, during the off-season, Jefferies spends eight hours a day, six days a week honing the skills that will get him to the major leagues. The Workout, designed by his father, a good-hitting infielder at San Francisco State in 1963 and '64, requires so much concentration Gregg prefers to do it with his dad rather than with other players.

The Workout starts at 9 a.m. when Gregg drives his blue Camaro (license plates 4 FOR 4 GJ) to the diamond at Parkside, where he meets his father. The infield is filled with rocks and clumps of crabgrass. "This is the worst field I'll ever have to play on," says Gregg, taking his spot at short, behind a deep gouge in the earth.

Using 75 waterlogged baseballs, Rich smacks dozens of grounders to the left side of the infield. This time Gregg cleanly fields all but three. Last fall when Rich introduced this drill—the Workout has evolved into its present form over the past four years—he made Gregg wear a wooden paddle instead of his glove for several weeks. "I wanted to simulate failure," he says. "I wanted to teach Gregg to control his emotions on a muff and recover to make the throw to first for the out."

A six- by three-foot chain-link backstop serves as the first baseman. This forces Gregg to throw to a spot. "I've had friends volunteer to play first," Rich says, "but they'd stretch for the catch. This way he has to be on the mark."

Then Gregg practices bunting, emphasizing bat control. Instead of a standard bat that's about eight inches in circumference, Gregg uses one that's only three inches around. He lays down 75 bunts righthanded, then 75 lefthanded.

Next father and son move up to blacktop basketball courts nearby to practice fielding on a fast surface, similar to artificial turf. Rich hits a hardball wrapped in black electrical tape to make it skip wildly across the pavement. "Mike Schmidt me a couple," Gregg says. Rich obliges with a bolting grounder. "Now give me a Vince Coleman." A high chopper explodes off the bat.

Finally, they do a pickoff drill to improve Gregg's reaction time. He's in a crouch, leading off from an imaginary first base, and for several minutes Rich will randomly hold up one of two tennis balls, one green, the other orange. "On green, Gregg sprints to second," Rich says. "Orange, he gets back."

Re-reading TFA now, I like how it anticipated the "ocular enhancer machine" that Carlos Beltran got the Mets to lease as part of his contract.

Next to a makeshift pitcher's mound sits a container of 100 worn tennis balls in assorted colors. Rich Jefferies. Gregg's father and Parkside's baseball coach and phys-ed teacher, fires the balls—he'll deliver about 400 pitches during this drill—from behind a shield of yellow plastic garbage cans. He needs protection because Gregg takes his cuts only 20 feet from the mound instead of the regulation 60 feet six inches. "To get a hit Gregg has to keep his head still and his eyes glued on the ball," Rich says.

To sharpen his son's concentration, Rich has drawn inch-high numbers (from one to three) on some of the balls with a black marker. When the pitch leaves Rich's hand, Gregg is supposed to call out the number. "There's a 1-in-300 chance I'll be able to read it," Gregg says modestly. In fact, he usually picks up the number on every ball.

The Workout starts at 9 a.m. when Gregg drives his blue Camaro (license plates 4 FOR 4 GJ)

That is all kinds of awesome.

My favorite t-shirt for a time ('89?) featured an illustration of Gregg Jeffries on the front, this despite my being a Braves fan. It was exceptionally ugly.
***
But only .282/.322/.395 in 504 AB in AAA in 1988.
Adjust for the year and the park, and that ain't that bad.

Addendum:
ZiPS says .263/.299/.369, which were the worst figures of his minor league career, but would represent an OPS+ near unity (Gary Carter, for instance was .301/.358/93). He then ('99 on) posted OPS+ above league average for the next seven years ... it appears that he was ready, '88 explosion notwithstanding.
Also, he was a third baseman that year, not a shortstop.

Jeff Kent refused to do the "goofy clothes" rookie initiation because he'd already done it while with the Blue Jays, and didn't think he should have to do it again. So he kind of had a point, and he was also kind of a dick.

Randy Myers wrote "Are we trying?" on the lineup card next to Gregg Jefferies' name. He's also assumed to have been the one who sawed Jefferies' game bats in half. I always thought Jefferies should've taken Myers' #1 glove and burned it... you know, as the same kind of good-natured clubhouse rib. That was some team.

Here's two candid articles on the situation, from 1990 and 1993.

"a drill where he stood in his pool and swung a bat under water."

I have actually tried this in the past. Good resistance for the arms and somewhat for the back but there is not the leverage you use in the lower body because the buoyancy makes you not have the friction on your feet to drive your legs, unless he did something to weigh his body down.