Nowadays a .300-plus power hitter like a Mays or a Clemente or an Aaron or a Frank Robinson can make a million dollars or more. Into that category now would be George Brett of the Royals, Eddie Murray of the Orioles, Dale Murphy of the Braves, Don Mattingly of the Yankees and Wade Boggs of the Red Sox. For an outfielder, hitting is 75 per cent of his worth, in most cases more important than fielding and arm and speed combined.

» Piersall's "Williams Shift"

Terry Moore was a great fielder. Dom DiMaggio was a great fielder. Nobody played the outfield any better than Jimmy Piersall. But when it comes down to it, the guys people remember are the hitters.

Yet today there does not seem to be a player in baseball who is going to wind up a lifetime .333 hitter, although Rod Carew will be close. Wade Boggs has made a terrific impression in his first four years, but it's a little early to tell with him. Hank Aaron finished his career at .305, Roberto Clemente at .317, Willie Mays at .302, Al Kaline at .297 and Frank Robinson at .304. Mickey Mantle, as great as he was, was unable to finish above .300.

In the years from 1950 to 1968, Major League batting averages, figured as a whole, dropped 30 points -- from .266 to .236. They have risen again since then, I think mainly because of two expansions (in 1969 and 1977), which invariably waters down the pitching and makes it easier for the hitters for a while. There were fewer home runs hit per game (1.23) in 1968 than there had been in twenty years. Runs scored per game dropped from 9.73 to 6.84, the lowest in sixty years. Batting averages and runs scored began going up again in 1968 and 1970 when four new teams were added to the big leagues. There were pitchers in the big leagues who other years were not good enough to be there, just as happened again when two teams were added in 1977.

A further help to the hitters was the lowering of the mound from 15 inches to 10. Nobody made a big thing about it, but the ball was hopped up a little, too. Unfortunately, so was the thinking. I heard a lot of talk during that period about the "advantage" of the so-called "down swing," which has never been good batting technique. I'll get to that later.

The longer season is blamed for the decline in hitting, and the pitching overall is supposed to be better. Logistics are definitely a factor -- the increase in night games, the size of the new parks (Chavez Ravine in Los Angeles is a pasture compared to cozy old Ebbets Field), the disturbed routine of cross-country travel that forces you to eat different hours, sleep differently. Certainly a week should be cut off both ends of the season for no other reason than to get away from some of that lousy cold weather. It's hard to hit in cold weather. But I wonder. If it were the longer season you would expect the better hitters to average higher -- .360, .370 or better -- for at least 100 games, but only one or two have been able to do so. When the season's only a couple months old neither league will have ten guys hitting .300.

How, too, can the pitching be better when there are fewer pitchers in organized baseball (fewer leagues, fewer everything, actually)? When expansion has made starters out of sixty or more who would otherwise still be in the minor leagues?

After four years of managing the Washington Senators/Texas Rangers, the one big impression I got was that the game hadn't changed. Except maybe now because of what the artificial surfaces are doing to it, it's basically the same as it was when I played. I see the same type pitchers, the same type hitters. But after 50 years of watching it I'm more convinced than ever that there aren't as many good hitters in the game, guys who can whack the ball around when it's over the plate, guys like Aaron and Clemente and Frank Robinson. There are plenty of guys with power, guys who hit the ball a long way, but I see so many who lack finesse, who should hit for average but don't.

The answers are not all that hard to figure. They talked for years about the ball being dead. The ball isn't dead, the hitters are, from the neck up. Everybody's trying to pull the ball, to begin with. Almost everybody from the left fielder to the utility shortstop is trying to hit home runs, which is folly, and I will tell you why as we go along -- and how Ted Williams, that notorious pull hitter, learned for himself.

I will probably get carried away and sound like Al Simmons and Ty Cobb sounded to me when they used to cart their criticism of my hitting into print. I don't mean to criticize individuals here. Not at all. I do criticize these trends.

I think hitting can be improved at almost any level, and my intention is to show how, and what I think it takes to be a good hitter, even a. 400 hitter if the conditions are ever right -- again from the theory to the mechanics to the application.

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