PHOENIX – Trevor Hoffman dialed the phone dutifully. Recognizing an obligation he didn't relish, baseball's most prolific relief pitcher was relieved when his call was routed to the voice mail of Padres'owner John Moores.
Hoffman was happy to be able to express his gratitude in a “short and sweet” monologue to a machine. He was still seething about his breakup with the Padres, still too wounded for a sincere exchange of pleasantries, so the disembodied voice served his purpose perfectly.
But it was not to be a save, merely a reprieve. Within minutes, Hoffman fielded a call from a number he didn't recognize. He picked it up to find Moores on the other end of the line.
Moores' words were nice enough – “It wasn't confrontational,” Hoffman said yesterday – but a rift remains.
Maybe most of the problem is on Hoffman's end, but for all of his saves and faithful service, the great closer never sensed the same regard from Moores that Tony Gwynn enjoyed. Privately, some Padres officials have viewed Hoffman as prone to temperamental and theatrical antics, like cleaning out his locker or storming out of a meeting to dramatize contract disputes.
There is some history here, and not all of it involves champagne.
For instance, some of Hoffman's teammates perceived a slight in the symbolism when Moores outbid Hoffman for a bulldog during a spirited charity auction a few years back, only to present the pooch to Jake Peavy and his wife, Katie.
Hoffman was reluctant to read much into that gesture yesterday, but he admitted to being taken aback at the time. Though some of Moores' subordinates have theorized that the owner bestowed the bulldog on Peavy rather than Hoffman because the younger pitcher was then making less money, Moores declined to characterize his decision yesterday via e-mail.
“I was there,” Padres CEO Sandy Alderson said. “I didn't perceive any ill-will toward Trevor. It was about doing something nice for Jake.”
When you don't explain yourself, though, you leave people to their own conclusions. Considering the number of fans who remain confused by the club's winter of discontent, perhaps the Padres should consider more clarity.
Even now, as Hoffman seeks to add to his 554 career saves in the service of the Milwaukee Brewers, the Padres' posture toward him remains puzzling. If management didn't want him, why was Hoffman offered a $4 million contract for 2009? Why, then, was that offer suddenly revoked and never seriously revisited? Why did management refuse to arrange a meeting between the ballclub's senior player and the guy who signs his checks?
The short answer is speculative or spin, usually involving the constraints caused by Moores' divorce, his budgetary strategy for selling the ballclub, the state of the national economy and the club's failed attempts to move Peavy's contract. The whole truth remains elusive, and it continued to elude Hoffman yesterday at the Brewers' spring training complex.
“I was prepared to take their offer,” Hoffman said, seated by his locker stall adjoining the training room. “I wanted to talk to them about a (post-retirement) services contract. When you say it isn't about money, it's always about money. But I wasn't looking to hold them up for the last dollar.”