Will Vaughn and Neagle make the Reds
playoff contenders or are they just...
Passing through?

BY CHRIS HAFT
The Cincinnati Enquirer

Greg Vaughn's work ethic and aggressive style of play have already been a benefit to the Reds in the locker room. (AP photo | ZOOM)

Welcome to the Reds' 90-game season.

That's how many games Cincinnati will have played, barring rainouts, just past the July 12-14 All-Star break. By then, the Reds should have established whether they're contenders for either the National League Central Division title or a wildcard spot.

If their playoff hopes remain alive in mid-July, left fielder Greg Vaughn and left-hander Denny Neagle likely will spend all season with the Reds.

If the team has settled into mediocrity, expect Vaughn, Neagle and other proven players -- Pete Harnisch, Steve Avery, even Barry Larkin -- to be offered to clubs seeking help for a postseason push before the July 31 trading deadline.

Such a chain of events would pain the Reds' true fans -- along with many of the Reds themselves -- who viewed the offseason acquisitions of Vaughn and Neagle as moves that could help propel the team to a winning record for the first time since 1995.

But this is baseball, modern style, where many organizations strive not to win, but to avoid red ink.

''This game has become so much like a business -- even more so the last couple of years,'' Neagle said. ''People make transactions and moves to better their company.''

General Manager Jim Bowden already has admitted that he might revert to the wheeler-dealer persona he frequently embraces if the Reds play in disappointing fashion.

''If we get to July 31 and it's not working out, well, maybe we might make another deal,'' Bowden said on Feb. 2, the date he acquired Vaughn from the San Diego Padres.

But with Opening Day approaching, Bowden has abandoned gloomy scenarios for optimistic ones.

''We'll deal with that (poor performance and the resulting fire sale) at that time,'' Bowden said. ''Right now, after what I've watched this spring, I think if our pitching staff and our team stay healthy, we have the capability of contending in our division. I think our division's wide open.

''Houston's the team to beat, but I think the other clubs are evenly matched. I'll be surprised if we get to July and this club is not in a race.''

So, for now, Vaughn and Neagle are Reds in good standing. Their teammates expect them to help Cincinnati advance in the standings.

Vaughn, the first player to be traded one season after hitting 50 home runs, won't dwell upon what might happen in July. Even if he's not traded, he's in the last year of a three-year contract that pays him $5.75 million this year, so he'll become eligible for free agency after the season.

Denny Neagle is more relaxed than Greg Vaughn in the clubhouse, often pulling pranks on teammates. (Craig Ruttle | ZOOM)

''I'm sure the closer it gets, it's human nature that I'll probably start thinking about it. But it's out of my control,'' he said. ''You just do what you can do on the field and let the rest of the stuff take care of itself.''

Neagle, who has won 52 games in the last three seasons but must begin the season on the disabled list with a weakened left shoulder, regards any speculation as counterproductive, though his contract fuels rumors. He has the right to demand a trade after this season.

''You're not going to do anybody any good if you start thinking about those kind of things in April,'' he said. ''I've never been one to get so caught up in looking too far ahead.''

Both experienced similar uncertainty earlier in their careers. San Diego made Vaughn a stretch-drive acquisition in 1996 on its way to the NL West title. That same year, Neagle became too good for the impoverished Pittsburgh Pirates, who sent him to the elite Atlanta Braves.

Neither one has behaved like a short-timer with the Reds.

Vaughn, a nine-year veteran, immediately became a respected clubhouse figure. His aura preceded him when team officials dropped the Reds' 32-year ban against facial hair after they realized Vaughn would win the grievance he considered filing with the Players Association to keep his goatee. An instant after Vaughn arrived at his locker when he reported to spring training on Feb. 22, bearded catcher Eddie Taubensee met him there, sticking out his hand and offering thanks.

Vaughn, a three-time All-Star, spent extra hours in the batting cage and others followed him. The National League pennant he won with San Diego last year and his 247 career home runs gave him automatic credibility.

''He has been awesome with us young guys, as well as the veterans,'' said third baseman Aaron Boone.

Vaughn virtually adopted Mike Cameron, sharing spring training lodging with the 26-year-old center fielder and bequeathing his knowledge about life in and around baseball.

''Then,'' said Vaughn, ''he'll do it when it's his time.''

It has been accepted as a given that Vaughn's presence will enable works-in-progress such as Boone, first baseman Sean Casey and right fielder Dmitri Young to develop their promising hitting skills without trying too hard to generate power.

Vaughn knows what kind of result he wants their performance to generate.

''My main thing is, I just love to compete and I love to win,'' he said.

On the surface, Neagle's approach is less serious than Vaughn's. He, too, immediately became a clubhouse centerpiece, but for different reasons. Neagle's jokes, pranks and ability to mimic noises (his train whistle is better than the real thing) help with team chemistry every team needs.

But underneath the humor lies a serious competitive focus, one that has prompted Neagle to work overtime at strengthening his shoulder.

''I want to win,'' said Neagle, who's eligible to leave the disabled list April 10. ''You play this game to be able to play in championships . . . The most important months are July, August and September, and I'd like to be talking about that with this team this year.''

Neagle also has a reasoned perspective. For him, playing in Cincinnati is fine. Playing anywhere else would be OK, too. Even not playing at all wouldn't wound him.

''I feel like I'm in a win-win situation, playing major-league baseball and getting paid a ridiculous amount of money ($4.75 million this year),'' he said. ''I've had a great life. If I would never play another game, I'd still feel like I'm blessed. How many kids grow up playing catch with their dad and think, 'Wouldn't it be incredible if just one day I could play on that field?' And I've already played more than seven years. I'm still living the dream.''

Neagle appreciates life because his almost ended prematurely. Twice. He was struck by a car at age 6 but escaped with little more than cuts and bruises. As a teen-ager, he accidentally drove into a telephone pole and demolished his father's car; he later was told that he could have been killed if he had hit the pole at a slightly different angle.

Neagle's grandmother, Grace Provance, insisted he had a guardian angel watching over him. He applies that to his baseball career, believing that being traded from Atlanta to the Reds unearthed the truth about his chronically balky shoulder.

Said Neagle, ''Because of how well and how specific the Reds do these exercises and treatments -- and they really do look after their arms here -- who knows? Maybe if I had stayed with Atlanta or gotten traded to a different organization that isn't as demanding and doesn't put you in these regimented programs, I could have been looking at some serious surgery this year.''

The Reds could be looking at some serious surgery on their roster if they don't win quickly.