Rejuvenated Sandberg Eager To Return To Baseball

PHOENIX - The first thing you need to know about Ryne Sandberg's comeback with the Chicago Cubs is that the hard part is over. Turn the double play? Please. Sandberg has been getting paid for that since he was 17. But reconstruct your personal life while the entire Chicago area leans closer for a better view? Now there's a comeback.

Sandberg isn't working out two hours a day, three days a week at a Phoenix gym because he missed listening to Harry Caray croak his way through the seventh-inning stretch. He isn't taking grounders, running sprints or hitting live pitching at a nearly deserted Fitch Park two days a week because he needs the Cubs' $1.5 million.

He is back because it feels right. Because there's only so much Wiffle Ball you can play with the kids. Because his new wife, who could out-perky Mary Tyler Moore and Sandy Duncan combined, turned to him one late September day at Wrigley Field and said, "I think you want to come back." A smiling Sandberg answered, "I do?" And that's when Margaret gave him the final nudge. "Let's go," she said. "We'll do it together."

So here he is, back from his 17-month self-imposed exile from baseball. Glamorous, it isn't . . . which explains why Sandberg is enjoying every nanosecond of it.

Only a week or so ago, he fielded his first ground ball since June 10, 1994, three days before he announced his retirement. It wasn't much: a Cub trainer literally rolled the ball to him, but it was the thought that counted. Anyway, he wasn't there to win a Gold Glove in November. He was there to reacquaint himself with an old friend: Ryne Sandberg, the ballplayer.

"It felt very natural," he said. "It felt like the first day of spring training."

"Good to be back" in gym

Sandberg, 36, is baby-stepping his way back into the game because he can afford to. The Cubs don't report to Mesa until mid-February, which means he can take his sweet time scraping the rust off his Rawlings glove. As it is, his thighs are in revolt from the sprints and 30 grounders every Monday and Friday. His right arm is wondering what's with the 50 throws to first and second base. His hands have had to re-introduce themselves to bat-induced callouses.

Then there is the gym routine on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday mornings.

"It's good to be back in the gym, sweat a little bit, have the sore muscles," he said. "I enjoy that now."

Of course, anything beats the worst 12 months of his life, a nasty stretch otherwise known as 1994. That was the year his marriage to the former Cindy White, his sweetheart at Spokane's North Central High School, officially unraveled. It was the year he quit believing in then-General Manager Larry Himes. It was the year he walked away from baseball and a $5.9-million contract.

"I don't think the real story has been published yet," said Cub pitching coach Ferguson Jenkins. "It was just kind of weird where a ballplayer of his stature gave his money back."

Said Sandberg: "There was no choice. Money didn't enter into the decision. I just knew that's what I had to do. I couldn't go out there and perform under the circumstances, or at the level I wanted to be at. I had doubts (about his ability), and that was a first for me."

So he quit. He was hitting .238, had five home runs and 24 runs batted in after 57 games, but his heart wasn't into it. He returned to Phoenix, tried to salvage his marriage and ended up with divorce papers.

"For a year I felt like I was somewhat dead, somewhat in jail," he said. "I didn't want to do anything. I was just down."

Sandberg slowly found himself spending more time with a family friend, Margaret Koehnemann, who also had gone through a painful divorce. Sandberg had known Margaret for a handful of years, mostly because his two children, Justin and Lindsey, played with her three children, B.R., Steven and Adriane.

"I thought he was the nicest guy," she said.

Sense of humor returns

A friendship became a courtship. Sandberg began to feel whole again. America's most underrated practical joker started to pull pranks, just like the old days. His sense of humor, in remission for months, reappeared. He rollerbladed, played basketball, went water skiing and even took up snow skiing, a contract no-no during his days as a player.

No dummy, Sandberg asked Koehnemann to marry him July 1. The ceremony took place Aug. 19. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe not, but the Cubs won games on both those dates.

"He's just happy," said Margaret. "He's relaxed. He can be himself. I really think it took a lot out of him, but now he's more and more comfortable speaking out, being approached. I've seen a lot of growth."

With five kids, ages 11-15, the new Sandberg family is one short of official Brady Bunch status. But there are also two dogs, fish and two baby iguanas (named Dumb and Dumber).

Sandberg isn't complaining. He loves this stuff. A few nights ago, when three of B.R.'s teenage friends stopped to visit, Sandberg organized a fake surprise party for his stepson, who was 15 minutes late coming home. Sandberg turned off the lights, ordered everyone to hide and then, when B.R. walked in, did the corny "Surprise!" thing.

"Ryne," said an embarrassed B.R., "you guys have no life."

No life? B.R. has it all wrong. For the first time in years, Sandberg has domestic bliss.

He's big on fun

Still, it wasn't until he returned to Chicago last season for an awards presentation - and a trip to Wrigley Field - that Sandberg let the thought of a comeback take hold. He can't remember the exact game, but for the first time in his life, Sandberg sat in the stands and watched a Cub game. He moved from the first-base box seats to the third-base side to the bleacher seats, where he plopped himself next to some stunned fan.

"I did it on purpose," Sandberg said. "I just wanted to see it."

What he saw, he said of the Cubs, "were guys having fun."

Sandberg is big on fun, especially because he said he didn't have any during the last two or three seasons he was with the team. Even in 1993, when the Cubs finished with a winning record, "we were still battling, still uptight."

For this, he holds Himes responsible, as does first baseman Mark Grace, who compared Himes to Satan. Himes, through clenched teeth, declined to comment, but one Cub official said the criticism was unfair and too convenient.

"He has been blamed for everything," said the official.

Translation: Himes wasn't the main reason Sandberg retired, nor was the hiring of team President Andy MacPhail, General Manager Ed Lynch and Manager Jim Riggleman the main reason he returned.

"He's coming back for the right reasons," Lynch said. "But this is the biggest challenge of his career. He's showing an awful lot of guts doing this. If he comes out and can't play and struggles, people tend to remember the last thing they saw of him."

Refreshed and eager

Whatever happens, Sandberg will succeed or fail at second base. A switch to third? Forget it. A move from his customary No. 2 spot in the batting order? Not likely.

"I think we all have to be careful not to have too high of expectations too early," said Riggleman, who plans to play Sandberg more than usual in the spring-training games. "We need to go pretty deep into the season before we make any judgments. I do know he's in good shape and he has some pride."