MR. INTENSITY ERSTAD COMMANDS ANGELS' RESPECT.

Byline: Gabe Lacques Staff Writer

ANAHEIM - David Eckstein spent his rookie season wondering who Darin Erstad was. Eckstein could only guess, because Erstad rarely talked to him.

So in the offseason, when Erstad asked Eckstein whether he'd be so kind as to move his locker over to Erstad's side of the Angels clubhouse, Eckstein figured an Erstad renaissance was around the corner.

``He's letting me talk to him this year,'' said Eckstein, the Angels' second-year shortstop. ``You can definitely see he's a lot happier this year.''

Indeed, 2001 was a year of such personal turmoil that Erstad, the Angels center fielder, opts not to discuss it at length. An offseason knee injury loused up his swing, resulting in a .258 batting average, nearly 100 points off his breakthrough .355, 240-hit season in 2000.

A divorce jolted his personal life, causing him to retreat from teammates. He withdrew to the point his teammates wanted the old Erstad - the intense, tone-setting Erstad - back in the worst way.

This season, they got him.

On the field, he hit .283, played Gold Glove-caliber defense and, from the No. 2 spot in the order, keyed the Angels' American League-leading lineup by epitomizing their commitment to situational hitting.

In the clubhouse, Erstad took command to the point of challenging teammates to change their approach at the plate for the good of the team.

Did it work? Well, the Angels will host the San Francisco Giants in Game 1 of the World Series on Saturday night at Edison Field.

To a man, the Angels can't stress Erstad's leadership skills enough. Even more thrilling for them is seeing Erstad, supposedly more tightly wound than the baseballs he sprays to all fields, enjoying the ride.

``He's so much more relaxed,'' closer Troy Percival said. ``You can really get an opportunity to see what kind of guy he is. Last year, he was miserable. He was not him.

``Now, he's back.''

That was evident in April, when Erstad was in vintage form on and off the field. In a one-week stretch, he slammed into the center-field wall at Edison Field chasing a fly ball in vain, then slammed his chin into the turf at Oakland diving for a bloop hit. He missed seven games with postconcussion syndrome.

Meanwhile, his teammates floundered at the plate and in the standings, where the Angels' 6-14 start seemed to seal their fate for the season.

In the midst of all this, Erstad called a hitters' meeting, took teammates to task for their approaches at the plate, and the Angels shortly thereafter took off, finishing 99-63, a club record.

Not many players struggling through a .243 April on the heels of a subpar season could command such respect. Erstad is different.

``He controls the clubhouse,'' Eckstein said. ``He doesn't take losing well. He didn't want to go through what we did last year.''

Adds first baseman Scott Spiezio: ``You couldn't take it seriously from other people. You know (Erstad) believes it. He means business. He wasn't joking around. He's a vocal guy when he has to be. When he's not, he leads by example.''

Much is made of the fact Erstad played for Nebraska's 1994 national-championship football team. Erstad's intensity, the saying goes, comes from his ``football mentality.''

But Erstad downplays his football career, noting he was a punter, not a middle linebacker. He says his leadership stems from a need to ``shock the guys a little bit,'' and that in the midst of another sluggish Angels start, something needed to be said.

``There's a fine line between doing too little and doing too much,'' he said.

Such a mentality blends well with manager Mike Scioscia, and Scioscia was a major reason why Erstad signed a four-year, $32 million contract extension in August, passing up free agency.

Nearly traded to the Chicago White Sox in the offseason, Erstad will be an Angel through 2006, provided Scioscia is, too.

``I just be myself, whatever that entails,'' Erstad said. ``People can say what they want, I just be myself. It starts over there with Scioscia - it's the kind of baseball he wants.

``You see it from day one - I just like the way he approaches things. He doesn't beat around the bush. I like the hard-core, honest truth.''

That's why Erstad felt so sick about 2001. The truth hurt - Erstad had a dreadful season. But Scioscia says given the personal and physical turmoil Erstad was suffering through, it was an accomplishment to hit .258.

``He battled through so much on and off the field,'' Scioscia said. ``I don't think people even know how much he persevered to play as well as he did.''

If there was one upside to the year, it was that Erstad learned to let things go. He really didn't have any choice.

``You have two choices - let it make you stronger or fold up and let it destroy you as a person,'' Erstad said. ``It's in the past. I'm definitely not going to live in the past with bad memories.''

The memories now are overwhelmingly good. Erstad has hit in every playoff game, has 16 hits in 41 postseason at-bats (.390) and gradually is showing the world what his teammates already know. Yes, he's intense, but he's also witty, engaging and, above all, a leader.

As Erstad tells it, he didn't ask Eckstein to move over to Erstad's side of the clubhouse. He demanded it.

``He's about winning, and when he says that, it's not a cliche. It's true,'' bench coach Joe Maddon said. ``It's what he believes. He's gotten over some personal issues, the kind that would impact anybody.

``He's enjoying himself more, which is good. Because he's a wonderful person.''

GAME 1

--San Francisco (Schmidt 13-8) at Angels (Washburn 18-6), Saturday, 5:04 p.m., Ch. 11, 570-AM

CAPTION(S):

2 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) Center fielder Darin Erstad, shown working out after batting practice Wednesday, got the Angels committed to situational hitting this season.

(2) Darin Erstad has put his subpar 2001 season behind him and has 16 hits in 41 postseason at-bats for a .390 average.

Kevork Djansezian/Associated Press