9501130510 DETROIT FREE PRESS 950407 Friday, April 07, 1995 METRO EDITION

SPT

1D MITCH ALBOM Copyright (c) 1995, Detroit Free Press GIBSON HAS SPIRIT EVERY TEAM NEEDS Kirk Gibson was yelling like a banshee, and his teammates froze. Can't tell you the day. Can't tell you the opposing team. I can tell you the Tigers had lost several games in a row, during a pennant race, and that was enough to boil Gibson's blood. He was screaming, calling them -- and himself -- names I can't repeat here, pacing like a caged beast, swearing they would never lose again or he'd kill somebody. The other players -- older, younger, smarter, dumber -- looked up from lowered eyelids, the way children look at a raging parent. He talked; they listened. They won their next three games. If for no other reason than that, the Tigers should re-sign Gibson before the deadline tonight, because he is still that way, at age 37, he still wants to win more than he wants to breathe. What's more important, he has the ability to transfer that will to other people -- even if he has to scare it into them. Believe me, there are plenty of Tigers who need the transfusion. I called Gibson Thursday to see how his contract talks were going, see if Detroit had even made an offer for the guy who had one of the best seasons of any Tiger last year, including 23 home runs, only five fewer than Cecil Fielder -- who was making fives times the money. "At this point," Gibson admitted, "they haven't even given us a number to think about. That's where we're at." He paused, knowing this might be the end of his playing days. What a thing to have to admit, over the phone, to a journalist. "Hey, whatever happens, I'm prepared for it." And then, instead of whining, he began to talk about what he would do if he ran the Tigers' minor league system. I got chills. How he would run the minors "First of all, I'd have my coaches come in two weeks before the players got there, and we'd be meeting every day. And when the kids showed up, there'd be one way of doing things, all the way through the organization. Not one guy saying something at A ball, and someone saying something else at Double-A. One way. "I'd be out there every day with them, teaching them, running the bases, fielding the balls. We'd meet, we'd practice, we'd meet again to go over what we were doing the next day. "I'd have them so sound fundamentally, that the only thing that could throw them would be a bad hop or a funny bounce, and you can deal with those. I'd have them visualize everything correct, over and over. "When they were finished, they'd be crawling home to bed -- crawling! -- not just because they were tired physically but because they were exhausted mental" What makes you think today's pampered athlete would respond to such tactics, I asked. "Because," he said, "I've got the credibility." That he does. Fans don't need reminding that Kirk Gibson is a winner, but maybe the Tigers' front office does. Gibson was a big part of the only two worthwhile baseball seasons Detroit has had since Sparky Anderson took over. One was a division crown, the other a World Series victory. When the Tigers lost Gibson to the Dodgers in 1988, he went there and won a World Series for them. Over the years, he has gone from hairy hellcat to balding family man, but the whiskers still grow and so does his grizzled spirit. How can the Tigers think about ignoring him? Do you remember when Gibson went on that tear last year to start the season, hitting over .300? Remember what he did? He didn't boast, or ask to renegotiate. He kept his mouth shut. "I'm not gonna talk about individual numbers," he said, "when the team isn't winning." Compare that to the average ballplayer today. Come on. Sign him up. He has a philosophy for success Take a stroll down the aisles of any bookstore. You see hundreds of "success" books, written by managers, lawyers, gurus. All of them contain helpful philosophies. They sound like this: "Winning is an attitude that becomes a habit." . . . "You're a slave of what you say, a master of what you don't." . . . "I set my goals so high that even if I fail, I outperform most people." You know which genius said all that? Kirk Gibson, Thursday, over the phone. If those authors can do well with their philosophies, why not him? I bet none of them ever hit a home run in the World Series. Gibson says he "will listen to" other clubs if the Tigers don't make him an offer. But they should. He says he has been swinging the bat well, running "plenty fast" and "I'm great shape." Time has proven he knows his body. So come on, Tigers. Get creative in accounting, make an incentive-oriented deal. But make sure, when he's done playing, that he stays here, and transfers his thirst for success to someone else. As someone once did for him. Gibson tells the story about his first day in the minor leagues. He flew to Florida. The manager of the Lakeland club picked him up at the airport. They got in the car, and the guy began to yell. "Gibson you bleep, I don't care how much they're paying you, you're gonna be out at the park at 8:30 every morning, ready to work!" And Gibson went, at 8:30, and the manger was there with him every day. "Boy did I respect that," Gibson says. "He taught me the game." That manager was Jim Leyland, who is now one of the best in the business. The tradition lies inside Gibson. If the Tigers can't see the value in keeping that, I don't have a lot of good feelings about their future.