Mike Salmon

Mike Salmon screamed as his car started to veer off the road, yanked on the steering wheel, and kept driving at frantic speeds on the desolate highway to Palm Springs. It was the fourth, maybe fifth time that Salmon had nearly lost control of his car that 1990 summer night. His mind kept telling him to drive slower, more carefully, but his body refused to cooperate.

Tim Salmon seemed to begin life with an 0-2 count, growing up in a broken home after his parents divorced when he was 6--a nomadic lifestyle that included more address changes than a military family--and spending many of his formative years living with a mother who was an alcoholic.

It would figure that USC's Mike Salmon would be winding up his college football career as one of the West's premier defensive players--tackling people, rather than the other way around. The senior safety was, for an entire season in 1989, on the other side of the ball. Scout team running back, they called him. In other words, a tackling dummy. When Salmon came to USC from Greenway High in Phoenix, the Trojans didn't know if he was a split end or a defensive back.

One yardstick is Dale Murphy, the 1999 Hall of Fame candidate. Tim Salmon's low-key demeanor and high-caliber production, Angel Manager Terry Collins was saying the other day, are remarkably reminiscent of Murphy's. A yardstick closer to home? Try Mike Piazza, Eric Karros and Raul Mondesi. Salmon's 1997 and career statistics are superior to the Big Three of the Dodgers in many of the power categories. The point?

Coach John Robinson, talking about strong safety Mike Salmon, the backup kicker who made field goals of 36 and 38 yards last Saturday against Washington State: "Here's a guy who hasn't kicked since high school, and he couldn't wait to get in there and kick. If it was me, I'd have been scared to death. Saturday, he wanted to go to the Coliseum at 3 and start practicing."

Mom always worried how the boys would adjust, being shuttled back and forth between homes. Dad was concerned about the asthma and allergies his athletic sons had, the older having been advised never to play sports. Little brother Mike feared that once older brother Tim saw in a mirror his mutilated face--hit by a pitch in 1990 that broke his jaw and knocked out nearly 30 of his teeth--he would give up his dream of playing professional baseball.

The Salmon brothers of Phoenix, Tim and Mike, have long shared a dream of playing together in the major leagues. Tim, 24, made it this year, batting .177 in 23 games as a right fielder for the Angels after being called up from triple-A Edmonton, where he batted .347 with 29 home runs and 105 runs batted in and was Baseball America's minor league player of the year. Mike, 21, has been waylaid by football.

Tim Salmon seemed to begin life with an 0-2 count, growing up in a broken home after his parents divorced when he was 6--a nomadic lifestyle that included more address changes than a military family--and spending many of his formative years living with a mother who was an alcoholic.

One yardstick is Dale Murphy, the 1999 Hall of Fame candidate. Tim Salmon's low-key demeanor and high-caliber production, Angel Manager Terry Collins was saying the other day, are remarkably reminiscent of Murphy's. A yardstick closer to home? Try Mike Piazza, Eric Karros and Raul Mondesi. Salmon's 1997 and career statistics are superior to the Big Three of the Dodgers in many of the power categories. The point?

Flanker Gary Wellman, who caught 23 passes for 427 yards and six touchdowns last season, has already caught 16 passes for 230 yards and a touchdown in two games this season. "Wellman is playing as well as any receiver that I've ever seen in this league," said Washington Coach Don James, whose team will try to contain Wellman Saturday in Seattle. "He's made some marvelous catches. He's just an incredible guy."

Mom always worried how the boys would adjust, being shuttled back and forth between homes. Dad was concerned about the asthma and allergies his athletic sons had, the older having been advised never to play sports. Little brother Mike feared that once older brother Tim saw in a mirror his mutilated face--hit by a pitch in 1990 that broke his jaw and knocked out nearly 30 of his teeth--he would give up his dream of playing professional baseball.

It would figure that USC's Mike Salmon would be winding up his college football career as one of the West's premier defensive players--tackling people, rather than the other way around. The senior safety was, for an entire season in 1989, on the other side of the ball. Scout team running back, they called him. In other words, a tackling dummy. When Salmon came to USC from Greenway High in Phoenix, the Trojans didn't know if he was a split end or a defensive back.

Coach John Robinson, talking about strong safety Mike Salmon, the backup kicker who made field goals of 36 and 38 yards last Saturday against Washington State: "Here's a guy who hasn't kicked since high school, and he couldn't wait to get in there and kick. If it was me, I'd have been scared to death. Saturday, he wanted to go to the Coliseum at 3 and start practicing."

Mike Salmon screamed as his car started to veer off the road, yanked on the steering wheel, and kept driving at frantic speeds on the desolate highway to Palm Springs. It was the fourth, maybe fifth time that Salmon had nearly lost control of his car that 1990 summer night. His mind kept telling him to drive slower, more carefully, but his body refused to cooperate.

The Salmon brothers of Phoenix, Tim and Mike, have long shared a dream of playing together in the major leagues. Tim, 24, made it this year, batting .177 in 23 games as a right fielder for the Angels after being called up from triple-A Edmonton, where he batted .347 with 29 home runs and 105 runs batted in and was Baseball America's minor league player of the year. Mike, 21, has been waylaid by football.