New Si piece on D wright. Pretty good read; some highlights below:
Prince Of the City
By Franz Lidz
"When I first got to the majors in 2004, female fans held up signs asking me to marry them," Wright says, barely concealing his embarrassment. "Those girls today were what, 13, 14? I'm 23, but that's a little young even for me."
Roughly half the unwed women in Queens -- and about a third of the unwed queens in Queens -- want the budding superstar for a husband. Many of the borough's married women would be happy just to bear his children. "I don't know what it is about David," says utilityman Chris Woodward. "I mean, he's O.K. looking, but it's not like he's Brad Pitt."
"I wish I knew how to pitch that kid," says Atlanta Braves ace John Smoltz, against whom Wright is 7 for 21. "As hard as it is to fathom, he doesn't have a weakness."
"To me, New York is the greatest baseball stage in the world," he says. "The fans have a certain energy, a passion, a fire that I haven't seen anywhere else."
Larry Jones likens Wright to Scott Rolen, the St. Louis Cardinals' six-time Gold Glove winner. "As a fielder, David is as acrobatic as Scott was at that age," Jones says. "And he's a little ahead of Scott offensively. He can hit for average, hit for power and hit to all fields. David doesn't just flick singles to right; he'll hurt you with a moon shot. For a 23-year-old that's very rare."
Equally rare is Wright's ability to make adjustments, not only from at bat to at bat, but also from pitch to pitch. He's one of the few sluggers who walks nearly as often as he strikes out (22 free passes, 34 K's at week's end). Of the 767 pitches Wright has seen this season, he has whiffed at only 52. And Wright is particularly dangerous with two strikes (batting .284 through Sunday, including 6 for 10 with an 0-and-2 count). "David won't let a pitcher determine what he swings at," Glavine says. "He's so disciplined that you can't pitch to him the same way twice."
"Dad's plan worked." He adds, playfully, "I guess I wasn't good enough to play infield in Little League, but I'm good enough to play it in the big leagues."
As part of his entry-level hazing, Wright had to lug the veteran's Louis Vuitton luggage on road trips. He still cringes at one memory of taking the bags through security at LaGuardia Airport and getting grilled by an airport screener.
The agent rummaged through one of Floyd's suitcases and pulled out three pairs of tiny nail scissors.
"Are these yours?" she asked.
Wright winced. "Uh, yes," he said.
The screener reached in again and withdrew enough gold chains to buy Minneapolis and St. Paul. "Are these yours?" she asked.
"Uh, yes."
She plunged in yet again and drew forth copies of Ebony, Jet, XXL, King, Smooth, Essence, Black Enterprise, Black-Gen, Black Men's Swimsuit Extra.... LOL :)
"And I suppose these are yours, too?"
Wright lowered his head and whispered, "Yes, ma'am."
Floyd was at the back of the line and missed the interrogation. "When David told me what had happened," he says, "I laughed and laughed and laughed." Still, Wright carried Floyd's bags the rest of the season without complaint. "David told me he was happy to," says Floyd. "Nothing fazes the kid."
"I make a lot more money than both my parents combined, so, to my mind, I've got it pretty good. How many other 23-year-olds get to play a game for a living and act like a kid? The worst day on a ball field is better than the best day in any office."
What will happen if Wright grows up and the game grows old? "I refuse to have a bitter taste in my mouth about this game," he says, flatly. "As soon as baseball becomes a job, as soon as I stop caring, as soon as the smile goes away, I'll hang up my spikes and do something else."
A thousand players have said that, but this one makes it sound like a promise.