Hurst not ready to make pitch
Let's get one thing perfectly clear: Bruce Hurst does not want to be the next manager of the Boston Red Sox.
"Not in a million years," Hurst said.
We do love it when former Boston ballplayers are thrown into the mix for job openings, though, don't we? Former Sox shortstop Rick Burleson wants in, Glenn Hoffman has already been in, and if a large population of the Fenway faithful had their way, broadcaster and former second baseman Jerry Remy would be in, filling out the lineup card as Grady Little's replacement.
Hurst, who pitched for the locals from 1980-88 and was a key figure in the 1986 World Series, already has a job -- pitching coach of the Chinese national baseball team. Hurst spent the past three months training and preparing China for the Asian Games, which determined which teams would qualify for the 2004 Olympics in Athens. Hurst watched proudly as his hurlers beat up Indonesia, 19-0, then grimaced as they turned around and got clocked by Japan, 13-1. Although Hurst doesn't speak a word of Mandarin, he was able to communicate with his players through an interpreter and sign language.
"Some interpreters were better than others," said Hurst, whose attempt at discussing a curveball was translated into "bent ball."
China's Olympic hopes were dashed by a 6-1 loss to Korea yesterday, but neither Hurst nor manager Jim Lefebvre will go home with their heads bowed.
"It's been a riot," Hurst reported from Sapporo, Japan. "I've learned so much, and I've grown really close to these pitchers."
Hurst's international odyssey began in Arizona, where the Chinese team trained for a month before leaving for Beijing in early October. It was there Hurst found a satellite feed to watch the Red Sox lose another heartbreaker to the Yankees.
"The guy I felt bad for was Tim Wakefield," he said. "What an asset he's been to that pitching staff. He can start, be a reliever, pitch on two days' rest . . . I hope they didn't kill him for giving up that home run ball."
Told it was Little who took all the heat, Hurst clucked knowingly.
"Of course," he said. "Whoever takes on that team is going to have some big hurdles to overcome. Bigger ones than ever before. Somehow, they are going to have to stay above all the negative and create an island where they can win."
Hurst said the heartbreak of 1986 has dogged him for the past 17 years. It's a topic he still must contend with in the supermarket, gas station, and dry cleaners, even after all this time.
"I still hear it," Hurst said. "I was in Japan 10 minutes and people were asking me about the World Series in 1986. The same thing happened when I got to China. It's everywhere.
"We had no idea at the time the impact of the thing. I look back, and we had a great team. Honestly, we were so young, we all said, `Hey, we'll be back.' "
The opportunity to coach the Chinese came through Major League Baseball International, and encouragement from Lefebvre, the former manager of the Seattle Mariners, Chicago Cubs, and the Milwaukee Brewers. Hurst was surprised to realize how far behind his pupils were in the most basic elements of pitching.
"What they've needed the most help with is mechanics," he explained. "They are very stylized over here. They don't throw hard at all. Our top kid throws about 88 [miles per hour], but the rest of them come in between 80 and 84. Some of the guys on the Philippines team throw in the 60s.
"There's no big, strong kid with control problems who needs to be corralled. You have to throw strikes, or you don't make the team.
"My job has been to try and explain to them they need leverage, and how to create enough torque so they can throw the ball with power."
Hurst's top pitcher was 25-year-old Li Cheng Hoa, who could throw a decent split-finger and was working on a cutter/slider. It wasn't like there were any major league scouts checking him out, though.
"He'd be a pretty good junior college player," Hurst said.
According to Hurst, nearly all of his pitchers are lefthanded. They train under the work-till-you-drop mentality of the Red Army.
"They don't understand the element of resting your arm," Hurst said. "They are incredibly resilient because of that.
"One day, I brought them together to do some light toss. I was thinking 20 or 25 pitches. Next thing I know, they've thrown 60 or 70 pitches, and they've worked up a sweat, and they're going all out. No matter how many times you tell them to take it easy, they don't."
As Hurst winds his way back stateside, he'll watch the Red Sox managerial process with interest. He knew, better than most, the ramifications of being five outs away from the World Series and not closing the deal. His team was one strike away from a world championship in 1986 when it all slipped away.
"It's kind of depressing, really," Hurst said. "After '86, everything kind of unraveled. We all looked at ourselves and said, `What happened?' It got to the point where it didn't even matter anymore what we did on the field.
"Whoever takes that team has a lot of healing to do. It's going to take a concentrated effort from a lot of people to pull it off."
Hurst is a big fan of Hoffman, his former roommate and teammate, but has his own dark horse candidate in mind.
"I don't understand why Jim Lefebvre doesn't get more consideration," Hurst said. "I've been working with him all these months, and this guy is cutting edge when it comes to statistics and that stuff. He's constantly asking questions, constantly wanting more. And he's the best hitting coach I've ever been around. I'm not taking anything away from Glenn, but I would love to see the Red Sox give Jim a shot."
Last time we checked, Lefebvre was not on Boston's short list. Probably hasn't experienced enough angst.
Sox fans have long been criticized for wallowing in their own misery. The rest of the country feels we should get over it, and move on.
Many have tried. But, as Bruce Hurst can attest, even people halfway around the world can't resist picking at scars that won't heal.
Jackie MacMullan is a Globe columnist. Her e-mail address is macmullan@globe.com.
