By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
He takes it. The gritty stoic wearing the dirty uniform and the tar-crusted batting helmet takes Kevin Brown's 92-mile-an-hour fastball on the left forearm and, without so much as glancing back at the mound, takes his base. A week later, a wayward Pedro Astacio heater hits him flush in the black number "7" on his back. He doesn't glare, doesn't even bother to wince, as he heads off to first. On a hot afternoon in August, fans in the third-base boxes hear a thud like a butcher's hammer whacking a slab of London broil and see that he's taken it again, this time in the ribs, courtesy of Hideo Nomo. A year or so later, they see an artist of sorts, a batter who crowds the plate and never flinches as a fastball from the Rockies' Jason Jennings nicks his fat black elbow pad. Poker-faced, he drops his bat and trots up the line to exchange pleasantries with Todd Helton.
A lunatic? Some career bench-warmer trying to prove his worth to more talented teammates? A masochist?
No, the ultimate big leaguer. Houston Astros second baseman Craig Biggio is a ballplayer of the Old School, driven to reach base at any cost, always willing to take one for the team, tough as a can of nails. "Yeah, it hurts," he says. "Get hit on the elbow, it hurts. Get hit on the helmet, it can scare you. But it's part of the game."
Last week, Biggio was struck by a pitch for the 266th time in his seventeen-year major league career, one short of the modern record set by a ballplayer Coloradans know well -- former Rockies manager Don Baylor. As the jokesters down in Houston like to say, Biggio's had more balls bounced off him than Elton John. Got as many stitch marks as Boris Karloff. Perennially grazed and bruised, knocked down and knocked cold, he is on pace to reach a milestone only a glutton for punishment could love -- or a ballplayer with fire in his belly and plenty of infield dirt under his nails. Despite the all-out way he plays, he's been hit in the head only four times, and he's never gone to the disabled list as the result of a plunk. His career has never faced ruin, like those of bean-ball victims Tony Conigliaro and Dickie Thon. He's never come close to what befell the helmetless Cleveland Indian Ray Chapman, who in 1920 was killed when a fastball struck him in the temple. But there have been plenty of mornings when it was hard to get out of bed.
"Nobody in his right mind goes to the plate trying to get hit," Biggio says. "You'd have to be crazy. But you don't give anything away, either. So it happens."
It's happened so often to Biggio that he's attracted a ton of fan and media attention in the last few weeks, pumped up interest in the otherwise mediocre Astros (34-40, 12 1/2 games behind the NL Central-leading St. Louis Cardinals), and even inspired a blog, "Plunk Biggio," that tracks each of his at-bats with the diligence of a monk on the trail of a saint. When Houston hosted the Rockies last week for a three-game series, devotees of the morning box scores had plenty to talk about, Biggio-wise. On June 21, Colorado starter Jamey Wright plunked him in the seventh inning (number 264); Lance Berkman promptly doubled Biggio home with what turned out to the winning run in a 6-5 game. The next day, the Rockies' Jason Jennings hit Biggio's famous elbow pad twice (plunks 265 and 266) en route to a 6-2 Colorado loss. As of Tuesday, Biggio remained plunk-free for six days, but over the weekend, his wife was struck by a pitch in a charity softball game.
The Rox have long been adept at Biggio-beaning. They've hit the 39-year-old veteran more often than any other pitching staff thirty times -- even though he's been playing in the National League five years longer than the Rockies have. Malicious intent? Probably not: more likely, the notorious ineptitude of Colorado pitching is to blame. For his part, Biggio was unaware last week that the Rockies hold the single-team record on him. After all, he's also batted about .400 against Colorado over the years.
As a matter of fact, Biggio is one of the best players in baseball and a possible Hall of Famer once his self-sacrificial, hard-sliding playing days are finally over. Baseball nut Bill James, widely known as the game's revolutionary sultan of statistics, calls him the best second baseman ever, and even proponents of Joe Morgan, Nellie Fox or Red Schoendienst have to acknowledge Biggio's prowess. He is the only player to be selected as an All Star as both a catcher (the position he played for four years) and a second baseman, and he is one of just five players with 2,500 hits, 300 stolen bases, 200 home runs and 1,000 walks. The others? Willie Mays, Paul Molitor, Rickey Henderson and Barry Bonds.
A five-time Gold Glover and seven-time All Star, he is one of just two twentieth-century players to hit fifty doubles and steal fifty bases in one season. Biggio did it in 1998; the Boston Red Sox legend Tris Speaker did it way back in 1912. This year's Houston club ranks dead last in the majors in runs scored, but in the previous three years Biggio has scored a whopping 298 runs all by himself.