Kim's actions reveal more than a minor problem

May 13, 2004|Jackie MacMullan, Globe Columnist

He is 25 years old with a spinning, vexing sidearm delivery that, when right, tends to flummox even the best major league hitters. When he's on, he throws 94 miles per hour, and he throws strikes.

So why, after only three cracks as Boston's fifth starter, was pitcher Byung Hyun Kim banished to Pawtucket?

And why was hardly anyone in the Red Sox clubhouse unhappy about it?

You had to wonder why the team demoted Kim so quickly after Monday night's 10-6 loss to the Cleveland Indians. Truth was, the Red Sox brass had already decided to ship Kim out after the first inning, when he was rocked for two doubles and a bullet single off the Wall. He gave up two runs, but it might have been more had Brian Daubach not gunned down Travis Hafner trying to stretch his shot off the Wall into a double. Kim's pitches were clocked in the mid-to-low 80s, and it was apparent his velocity was not where it should be.

Thus, Kim's rocky tenure with the Red Sox has taken another downturn. Although brimming with talent, his stubborn refusal to deviate from his rigid workout regime has not only alienated teammates who have tried to help him, it has frustrated the front office and the coaching staff as they continue to attempt to tap his obvious potential.

"His assimilation has been an even bigger challenge than we thought," conceded general manager Theo Epstein last night. "But he's important to our team. If we're going to be successful as an organization, we have to find ways to get the best out of everybody, including players with different backgrounds.

"But he has a responsibility, too. He's been around long enough and had enough success and failure to recognize what kind of adjustments he needs to make."

Kim was understandably angry when notified he'd be spending the foreseeable future in Triple A. But is he willing to pull back on his almost maniacal workout habits? He is known to run laps in the darkened Fenway outfield after he pitches. He resists pulling back on his pitching work between starts, despite entreaties from his coaches, and what sure looks like a "tired" arm. This so-called "Red Army" mentality is common among Asian athletes, including those in his native Korea, where there is no such thing as working too hard.

"He works his butt off," confirmed catcher Doug Mirabelli. "How can you say someone works too hard? But his success is related directly to velocity."