Men of Steal

It is the middle of a game, but the old hustler has always known when to make his move, and it is now.

He walks through the stands, down a stairwell, through the Dodger clubhouse, up a tunnel, toward their dugout.

Just before he reaches the bench and bat rack and glare of the cameras, he stops.

Deep enough to hide. Close enough to whisper.

"Can you get him for me?" he asks a batboy.

The batboy knows who he means. Everybody knows why he is here.

The old hustler is looking for the face he sees in the mirror each morning, the voice he hears on his cell phone at night.

The old hustler is looking for the new kid.

There is a clatter of cleats, a parting of players, a dusty Dodger uniform entering the shadows.

"What's up?" says the new kid.

"You can bunt on these guys," says the old hustler.

"But I tried, and I can't."

"Try it again, but try it this way ..."

Moments later, the old hustler disappears into the darkness while the new kid steps into the sunshine, a big fastball, a pretty bunt attempt, a slide into first base, a standing ovation.

After a baseball lifetime of searching for a home, new kid Dave Roberts has finally found one.

Come to think of it, so has old hustler Maury Wills.

*

They meet a couple of times a week, on the Dodger Stadium field, the first ones.

While teammates are dressing or eating, Maury Wills and Dave Roberts are working.

"Stay in there!" Wills says.

"Like this?" Roberts says.

A batting practice pitcher is throwing fastballs. Roberts is bunting them.

Left, right, straight, third base, first base, again, again.

The only spectators are birds that have settled curiously upon the outfield grass. The only sounds are the plunk of a bat, the music of a lesson.

"Come out of the box on that," Wills says.

"Like this?" Roberts says.

It is a dance they have been doing for nine months now, alone, at odd hours, the dance of the desperate.

Roberts had spent most of the previous eight seasons in a minor league uniform, from Akron to Visalia, from unhappy to unwanted.

He joined the Dodgers last winter from Cleveland in a trade that cost the team only two non-prospects. He was looking only to belong.

Maury Wills, arguably the most exciting player in Los Angeles history, had spent much of the last 30 years bouncing around in the same manner, looking for the same place.