February 13, 2002

A fitter David Wells set to don Yankee pinstripes

By Pete Williams
USA Today Baseball Weekly

SAFETY HARBOR , Fla. — David Wells has given up beer

Coming from a man who downs suds like some people drink water, this is shocking news. But it's true, Wells insists while sitting in front of one of several bars in his home. For three months, he hasn't tasted the amber fluid. There's plenty of beer in the house, but lately it's been reserved for guests.

Wells is sharing this revelation following a one-hour cardiovascular workout that included a heavy dose of abdominal work. Instead of drinking six-packs, he's spent his winter trying to develop one. While no one will confuse the Yankees' left-hander with Gabe Kapler when spring training camps open this week, the 6-4 Wells has dropped 30 pounds and now weighs a solid 245.

Until recently, Wells had reveled in being fat, just like his hero, Babe Ruth. For years, Wells scoffed at the fitness trend sweeping baseball, restricted his weightlifting to 12-ounce curls and remained one of the game's most durable pitchers.

That changed last year, when he suffered two damaged disks in his back, had season-ending surgery in July, and contemplated retirement after an all-around miserable year with the White Sox.

"If I would have finished the year healthy, I would have retired," Wells said. "But with the injury and surgery, it would have been too easy to call it quits. I felt like I had more left in me and didn't want to go out that way."

Wells knew he had to make drastic changes in his lifestyle if he wanted to return. Doctors told him that in order to take pressure off the back, he had to shed the Michelin Man look up front.

So for the first time, Wells wandered into the exercise room of the home he purchased three years ago, took note of how his wife, Nina, had arranged the equipment, and went to work. He hired her trainer, swore off carbohydrates and, in the ultimate sacrifice, gave up beer.

"I love beer," Wells says wistfully, sounding a little like Homer Simpson as he nods toward the Amber Bock, Budweiser and Bud Light taps that stand sentry under a neon "Boomer's Bar" sign. "But the doctors said that if I can't see through it, I can't drink it."

It's not like Wells has jumped on the wagon. He still drinks vodka — it is clear, after all, and less fattening than beer — and he did allow himself one beer while walking Bourbon Street during Super Bowl week in New Orleans.

But for the first time ever, Wells speaks with authority and not disgust about diet and exercise. He still will need directions to the weight room when he reports to the Yankees' spring training camp in Tampa this week for the first time since 1999. But no longer will he look or feel out of place there.

"Weight was never an issue for me, just for everyone else," Wells said. "I always went out and did my job and got better each year. But I like working out now. If I miss a workout, I don't feel right."

Three years ago, the Yankees traded Wells to Toronto during spring training because some club officials feared it was only a matter of time before his eating habits and nocturnal lifestyle took their toll. It didn't matter that Wells, then 35, was coming off an 18-4 season in which he threw a perfect game and helped lead one of the best teams of all time through the playoffs.

It didn't matter that Wells had proven himself as a big-game pitcher, a dominant postseason performer.

It didn't matter that Roger Clemens, the man for whom he was traded, was at the time a chronic playoff underachiever.

It didn't matter that Wells was, arguably, the favorite of Yankees fans because he embraced the hard-living, hedonist philosophy of Ruth and Mickey Mantle, and the fiery, outspoken demeanor of Billy Martin.

It didn't matter that the two high-profile seasons Wells spent in the Bronx were the most productive of his career or that he had shed the "problem child" label that he wore previously with the Blue Jays, Tigers, Reds and Orioles.

"He was always a kid with a lot of talent who had a hard time putting it together," says friend and former teammate David Cone. "That experience of being in that clubhouse really matured him, and to have that taken away was just devastating for him."

The only thing that mattered, it seemed, was that Wells was fat.

Wells says that were it not for the back problems, he might still be showing up to camp looking like he spent the winter subsisting on beer and hot dogs. After all, he won 17 games with the Blue Jays in 1999, leading the American League with seven complete games. The following season, he began the year 15-2 and won a career-high 20 games.

Still, he seemed like a guy waiting for a call back to the Bronx. He hung out in New York during the postseason each year, continued to add to his stockpile of Yankee memorabilia and spent even more time in the offseason with fellow Tampa Bay resident George Steinbrenner.

"Playing for the Yankees had always been my dream," Wells said. "I felt that the mystique and the surroundings helped me experience the success I did and I never wanted to lose that. Say what you want about me, but I always respected the Yankee uniform and tradition and never went over the line.

"I don't think there's anyone there who can say that I was a distraction. I was just having fun, but I always took my responsibilities seriously and never wanted to screw it up. But then they took it all away by trading me. You come to accept it as a business transaction, but I think there were people there who just didn't want me around."

Steinbrenner's touch

Steinbrenner was not one of them, although the lure of landing Clemens just months after the right-hander won his fifth Cy Young Award was too much to resist. But just as the Boss once kept in touch with a stable of his former managers, he maintained a relationship with Wells after the trade.

During the offseason, Steinbrenner has hosted Wells at his Ice Palace luxury suite for Tampa Bay Lightning hockey games. Steinbrenner has provided Wells with Super Bowl tickets and they usually get together several times each winter for lunch.

Steinbrenner is a regular at Malio's, an upscale steakhouse in Tampa, and during spring training the Yankee brass frequently holds working lunches in a reserved room. Wells is a regular at Pete & Shorty's, a casual burger joint in Clearwater created by the founders of Hooters, and usually mingles with the public.

In mid-December, Wells introduced Steinbrenner to Pete & Shorty's and the restaurant's signature entrée: a plate of miniature "Shorty" burgers. There was no talk of a contract, but Steinbrenner commented on the pitcher's weight loss and encouraged him to stick with the conditioning program. He even told Wells he would enjoy playing in Arizona, where Wells had a visit scheduled with the Diamondbacks for the following week.

Wells met with Jerry Colangelo in Phoenix on Dec. 19 and shook hands on a contract with the Diamondbacks. But the club did not have a doctor available that day to give Wells a physical and the deal went unsigned. Nina Wells, meanwhile, urged her husband to wait until he heard back from Steinbrenner.

But Wells had received no indication from Steinbrenner over lunch that the Yankees were interested. "You know George that well, huh?" he told his wife.

The thought of losing Wells to the team that defeated New York in the World Series apparently was too much for the Yankees' owner. When Wells returned from Phoenix, Steinbrenner called and suggested they get together for Christmas Eve lunch. Wells was a little surprised when he offered to meet at Pete & Shorty's since Steinbrenner lives about 20 miles away and it was his turn to pick the location.

Steinbrenner arrived first and grabbed a table. When Wells got there, they chatted about family and mutual friends for nearly an hour before Steinbrenner pulled out a piece of paper with the parameters of a contract. "I want you back," he said.

By then, bar patrons were openly urging the Boss to re-sign Wells, who was stunned that Steinbrenner was suggesting a two-year, $7 million deal with an option for a third season when the Diamondbacks had offered an incentive-laden, one-year contract with just $1 million guaranteed. With the help of a few cocktail napkins, they laid out the deal.

Colangelo, who thought he had an agreement, questioned Steinbrenner's ethics and Wells' character.

"I knew I'd catch some grief about it," Wells said. "But I get to finish my career as a Yankee. It was a no-brainer."

Wells says his friendship with Steinbrenner sealed the deal, which might sound a little presumptuous were it not for the pitcher's track record of striking up relationships with prominent people, especially those who work in sports, business and entertainment.

Little bit rock 'n' roll

Wells has an entire room in his home dedicated to his extensive collection of autographed guitars signed by the likes of Jimmy Page, Bob Dylan, B.B. King, Bruce Springsteen, Richie Sambora and Stevie Ray Vaughn. There's autographed Jim Morrison memorabilia, framed gold records, and a crystal carving that Wells received from members of Creed.

While the collection is impressive in its own right, Wells is more proud of the fact that he has built relationships with many of the rockers.

Pointing to a framed display of Bon Jovi memorabilia, Wells mentions that he met David Brian, the band's keyboard player, at the wedding of Wayne Chrebet, the New York Jets' wide receiver. Another of Wells' friends is Lorne Michaels, the executive producer of Saturday Night Live. Several years ago, Wells and his family spent Thanksgiving at Michaels' home, along with singer Jimmy Buffett.

Two years ago, while attending the Super Bowl in Atlanta, Wells was waiting in a limousine with Wayne Gretzky when the door opened. Michael Jordan stepped in and the three went out to dinner.

"He loves to meet people," says actor Tom Arnold, who met Wells five years ago while playing in a charity softball game at Yankee Stadium. "It's so interesting to see him around rock stars and actors. He's like a little kid. People have this image of him as this wild man and that's true. But he's also a sensitive guy who, above all else, is just a big fan."

Says Cone, "He's one of the few people who can sit down and talk to anyone."

Even with his new regimen of physical therapy and fitness, Wells has not strayed from his hectic offseason schedule traveling the country for concerts and catching up with high-profile friends. As usual, he spent two weeks with former Tiger teammate Kirk Gibson at a 1,300-acre hunting lodge they own in Michigan. Wells also has traveled to New York on a near-weekly basis.

"I hardly ever see the guy," said former big-leaguer Darnell Coles, who lives across the street from Wells. "I read about him or see him on TV like everyone else."

Indeed, Wells seems to be everywhere. Since he rejoined the Yankees, Wells sightings have become commonplace in New York Post gossip columns. He appeared last month on Howard Stern's radio program and even showed up in drag with Cone and Derek Jeter as part of a Saturday Night Live skit.

Afterward, Wells had a hard time removing all of his makeup before he and Cone hit Manhattan nightclubs. "Bald head, goatee and eyeliner," Cone said. "Only Boomer can pull that off."

Many of Wells' celebrity friends show up for the pitcher's annual charity softball tournament, which seems like one of those odd dreams full of people who have no connection to one another.

Moments before this year's event in late January, Arnold could be seen chatting with Fred McGriff in front of the visitors' dugout at Legends Field, the Yankees' spring training home. Behind the plate, actor Jonathan Silverman was posing for photos with Steve Wilkos, the head bouncer for the Jerry Springer Show.

Meanwhile, several pro wrestlers were jawing with Carl Everett, who thankfully did not take them seriously. Jason Scheff, the lead singer from the band Chicago, was huddled with actor Bob Saget along the first base line.

The ballpark was decorated with "Welcome Back Boomer" signs, although it's still not clear what role Wells will have in the Yankees' rotation. The first three slots are set with Clemens, Mike Mussina and Andy Pettitte. Wells would seem to be the frontrunner for the No. 4 spot, although incumbents Sterling Hitchcock and Orlando Hernandez still are under contract.

"I don't think I have to earn a spot," Wells said. "It's not like I had arm surgery. I had back surgery. But I'm going to go out there and bust my butt."

With Wells returning and New York adding Jason Giambi, the former leader of the Oakland A's fraternity house, the 2002 Yankees seem to have injected some much-needed personality into a clubhouse sometimes viewed as too businesslike, even boring. But Wells said it's not his role to fill notebooks and get the party going.

"I'm a veteran player and I've earned my stripes," Wells said. "If there's a situation, I'm going to speak up. But if everybody is expecting I'm going to be this wild, crazy guy, they can forget it. I'm going to pick my spots and still have fun and live my life, but I'm just going to do my job."

Give most American men $41 million in income by age 38 and it's a good bet they'd end up with a fantasy house that looks a lot like the Wells' compound.

Wells, his wife, and 3-year-old son Lars live in a gated house in a gated community in a town east of Clearwater that sounds gated itself: Safety Harbor.

Security has its selling points, especially when you own an impressive collection of baseball memorabilia. In recent years, Barry Halper and Charlie Sheen have sold off their mega-collections, allowing Wells to add pieces to his stockpile.

To understand the depth of Wells' love for the Yankees, it helps to go inside his home, which can only be described as Ruthian with its vaulted ceilings, mounted buffalo and deer, and a sprawling pool area that looks like something out of a Disney waterpark. There's an indoor basketball court and a room dedicated to his newest collection: pinball machines.

Wells has more than 10,000 square feet of house, but even that's not enough to contain his collection of autographed bats and balls, vintage game-used uniforms and baseball artwork. Even with a high-tech security system, much of the big-ticket stuff is locked away at an undisclosed location.

"I keep that stuff in a safe," Wells says. "And I've lost the key, so it's definitely safe."

The collection includes plenty of items from Wells' career, but it's mostly classic Yankee material. There's a derby hat that belonged to Lou Gehrig, Thurman Munson's signed, game-worn shinguards and autographed balls from nearly every Yankee team since 1920.

Then there's the Babe. Wells owns a pair of game-used Ruth uniforms, a cap, a bat, a glove, several autographed balls and even a life-sized Ruth statue he bought when Halper auctioned his collection three years ago.

Wells' affection for Ruth goes back to his childhood. Even then, Wells had a contrary streak and adopted the Yankees as his favorite team since everyone else in his native San Diego seemed to despise them.

"I wish I had played back in the day," Wells says. "The Babe and I would have been best friends."

In some ways, the Wells home is the House Built of Ruth. French doors leading from Boomer's Bar to a second-floor balcony overlooking the swimming pool are etched with a drawing of Wells pitching to Ruth. The glass in the double doors to Wells' home office is carved to depict the locker stalls of Boomer and the Bambino, with detail so subtle that it's easy to miss the smoldering cigar in Ruth's locker.

There's also the matter of beer. Sitting at the bar, Wells points out one of the most enviable features of his home. Through a friendship with several Tampa-based executives of Anheuser-Busch, Wells receives regular deliveries of free beer.

As an active player, Wells cannot formally endorse alcohol. But he's already spoken to his Budweiser pals about the future.

Says Wells: "First call I make after retirement."

© Copyright 2002 USA Today Baseball Weekly