Eric Davis already knows that when he watches his uniform number being unveiled high above Citi Field on Saturday afternoon, a mix of emotions will fill his mind, a smattering of snapshots and memories will jostle for space. After all, there’s no better friend than an old one, and it’s hard for Eric Davis to remember life without Darryl Strawberry.
“I think about the journey,” Davis says, “and how unlikely it was for a kid from South Los Angeles to come to New York and accomplish what he did, with all the pressure he was under from the moment he walked in the door.”
He laughed.
“Daryl would have a smile on his face if he flew here,” Davis said, “and the only thing missing from this picture is he doesn’t fly over Shea Stadium anymore, because that’s where Daryl became Daryl. That was his stage, that was his home.”
Davis will be on the field when Strawberry’s No. 18 is officially retired before the Mets-Diamondbacks game. It seems oddly fitting that this will be the setting for Strawberry’s big day, even though the Mets have had a far from dream season so far.
The sense of despair and frustration was reminiscent of the scene in Queens on May 6, 1983, when Strawberry made his Mets debut as a 21-year-old. He had one single and two walks that night in the Mets’ 7-4 win over the Reds, a rare bright spot in a season in which the Mets started 7-15 and finished 68-94. They had finished last or runner-up for the seventh straight year.
“The minute he walked in the door, I think he felt more pressure than any of the other players, more than any of the juniors. [Ken Griffey]”More than Alex Rodriguez, more than anybody,” Davis says, “but the fact is, for him it was already starting. All eyes were on him the day the Mets selected him first overall in the 1980 draft. It’s impossible to know what that was like.”
Davis first met Strawberry on a Los Angeles sandlot, first on rival teams and later together. The two went to different high schools, Strawberry at Crenshaw and Davis at Fremont, and Strawberry went to the Mets with the first overall pick in the 1980 draft, while Davis went to the Reds in the eighth round.
“Everybody called him the new Ted Williams and I was the new Willie Mays,” Davis says. “There were high expectations, but I fell low in the draft and went to Cincinnati. I didn’t have the same expectations as Darryl. He wasn’t just a No. 1 pick, he was going to New York, which needed a savior. He was going to be the savior.”
And Davis has seen the toll it sometimes takes on friends.
“Looking back at recent sports history, LeBron James may have had a similar burden. He was the No. 1 player, he was the hometown pick, and immediately the whole world was watching his every move,” Davis said. “It was the same for Daryl. I don’t think any of us can understand what it was like to put ourselves in his shoes.”
Both Strawberry and Davis quickly made an impression and rose to fame: Strawberry was Rookie of the Year in 1983, was a key part of the Mets’ World Series team in 1986, was runner-up for MVP in 1988 and finished third in 1990. He hit 280 home runs before his 30th birthday.
Davis became the first player to really challenge the 40-40 club in 1987 (hitting 37 home runs and stealing 50 bases) and was a key player on the Reds’ 1990 championship team, winning three Gold Glove awards and being named Top 10 MVP twice.
Beginning in their early 30s, with Davis plagued by injuries and Strawberry facing a series of off-field problems, both players’ lives began to change. They were teammates on the Dodgers in 1992 and 1993. Then, in a strange coincidence, in the late ’90s, both players found themselves battling colon cancer within a year of each other’s diagnosis.
“How ironic,” Davis says with a quiet chuckle, “but weirdly, it was for the best. Because I was happy with my situation, he was happy with his situation. And because he was happy with his recovery, I was happy with my situation. We went through it together.”
Mets this year. Charles Wenzelberg/New York Post
But in reality, Davis and Strawberry were linked all the way back to when they first met at 62nd and Denker in South Central Harvard Park, the place where Davis first realized the magnitude of Strawberry’s talent.
“He was good at baseball, basketball, football, everything,” he said, “and when he hit a baseball…”
He pauses, and it’s as if you can hear the memory banks rewinding.
“Willie Stargell hit the ball out of the park,” he says. “Frank Howard, Reggie Jackson, Mickey Mantle — those guys hit the ball like transformers. But they were men. Darryl was just a high school kid, just a kid, and he hit the ball out of Dodger Stadium. It was amazing, but I have to say it was inspiring. Darryl showed us that baseball can take us to a better place.”
On Saturday, Davis will smile as he watches his old friend receive some final plaudits from Mets fans, and he’ll probably take a few more glances at No. 18 when it’s unveiled. It’ll be Darryl’s day. But Davis will be just as pleased.
“Not bad for kids from South Central, eh?”
