DARRYL, DARRYL, DARRYL

There must be some new way to approach this saga. The newspapers could
finally get tired of all this and confine him to the "Transactions"
category, the small type reserved for waiver deals and new tennis coaches
at obscure colleges.

Transactions: Darryl Strawberry tested positive yesterday.

So what else is new?

Or, the news media could merely pick up everything written last time,
whenever that was, last week, last month, last year. Just stick all those
stories back into type and send them flying around the Internet, changing a
few salient details like yesterday's news that Darryl Strawberry has
flunked a drug test in Florida and is in big trouble.

If he were merely in trouble with Bud Selig and George Steinbrenner, that
would be trouble enough. But Strawberry has flunked a test from the legal
system of the state of Florida, and the last time anybody checked, the
legal system of the state of Florida is not trying to win a World Series
and sell tickets to games.

Sooner or later Darryl is going to run out of chances. The hand-wringing
and the teeth-gnashing will vanish. The anger will turn to ennui,
discounting the sadness we cannot help because we are human and he is human.

Or, some fans could congregate in public spaces and light candles in the
darkness in empathy for a man who might find colon cancer easier to beat
than his addiction.

Or, some fans could picket his employer and say: "Enough of this soap
opera. Cut the poor guy loose. Stop jerking us all around."

It's all so boring, isn't it?

Personally, I'd rather see this as a Rock Raines story, about a guy who had
his own troubles with drugs two decades back but has stayed clean, only to
be rewarded with a case of lupus. Now Raines is trying to make the Yankees'
roster as a spare outfielder, because Joe Torre loves his hustle, the way
he works the clubhouse.

Raines's chances improved yesterday, of course, but he will see that
development only as a misfortune for Darryl Strawberry, as will all the
other Yankees. They love the man they call the Straw Dog, love him for his
street wit in the locker room, love him for the sudden whip of his bat on
the field.

Strawberry had it made as a left-handed designated hitter this season, but,
as we are all learning about addiction, second chances and financial need
and an outpouring of love and support do not necessarily help somebody
caught in this cruel grip.

The Yankees have the right to their personal devotion. He is one of them.
What should the rest of us feel at this stage? The louts in Shea Stadium
jeered at Darryl when he was trying to pull outside pitches toward
beautiful downtown Flushing. Oddly enough, as he became a baseball
stumblebum, a man with drug troubles and drinking troubles and wife
troubles and tax troubles and court troubles and batting-average troubles,
he became more lovable.

Then he helped the Yankees win three World Series. Everybody knew he needed
the money. Steinbrenner stuck by him, threatened to be Darryl's worst enemy
should he flunk any more tests. Well, last year Darryl was caught taking a
ride on the wild side of Tampa, the Florida town where the Yankees train.

Because he was recovering from cancer, Strawberry had the sympathy vote.
Joe Torre kept referring to his driving on the wild side with some drugs in
his car as "Darryl's little hiccup." What will this be: Darryl's nervous
twitch? Darryl's stumble in the dark? Darryl's boo-boo?

There is another side to it. Darryl sucks the air out of the clubhouse and
not just from the cigarettes he smokes. This column could have been about
all the good guys who were not brought back by the Yankees this year. Joe
Girardi was the leader of the clubhouse, a bright and inspirational and
religious adult who wanted to catch regularly, so he is gone. Luis Sojo, an
engaging veteran, is gone.

And Chili Davis, who was right up there with David Cone for insight and
maturity, is retired, voluntarily, he said. The Yankees preferred Darryl's
residual power to Davis's declining professionalism. Or maybe it was about
saving some money on Davis's salary. Or maybe Steinbrenner was truly soft
about taking care of Darryl. Still, Davis was the designated hitter who
gladly shared his job with Strawberry because "I love him like a brother"
- -- plus, Darryl could help the club, and Davis was all for that.

Now maybe they will call back Chili Davis. Now Rock Raines has an easier
path to a job. Darryl Strawberry has made himself truly superfluous. Next
step: Transactions.