NATURALLY, IT'S ADAM KENNEDY'S GEERY STRIVES TO BE THE BEST.

Byline: Lee Barnathan Staff Writer

It's a different world inside Adam Geery's head. The thoughts, after traveling from brain to mouth and then articulated, certainly don't sound like the normal cliche-filled utterings of a baseball player.

``The world is as good as you make it,'' said Geery, a talented part of Kennedy of Granada Hills' City championship team of a year ago. ``If you see roses and daisies out there, then the world's a beautiful place. If you see car crashes and murders, then you're not going to have much fun on this Earth.''

Which does philosopher Geery see?

``I see a baseball bat and a baseball.''

In a baseball tradition that evokes the strange ramblings - and the talent - of Bill ``Spaceman'' Lee, Geery is in a class of his own.

Consider, at the age of 17, some vintage Geery:

--``Here's a game I play to strive to make the Big Show. I want to make it. I'll do anything (even) if I got to cut my arm off and play like Jim Abbott.''

--After declaring President Bush's proposed $1.6 trillion tax cut as being for the rich, he accepts it ``because I hope to make a lot of money.''

--He finds the most outrageous sunglasses (``pimp glasses,'' he calls them) to wear to practice for laughs, plays a one-man game of hackey sack with a ball made of foil and chases off anyone who accidentally walks through, then runs to listen in on strangers' conversations, nodding and saying, ``Oh yes. Oh yes. Interesting.''

``He's definitely different. He's Adam,'' Kennedy teammate Kevin Hubbard said. ``You can't sum up Adam in words. You've got to know him. There's more to him than just surface. It takes time to know him. He has other sides. People who see them appreciate him.''

In some ways, Geery is a normal, baseball-loving teen-ager. He has all his trophies and all the home run balls he's ever hit, from t-ball to the present, in his room, along with a rug depicting an old-time baseball player that he puts by his bed so it's the first thing he steps on every morning and a drawing of Cal Ripken Jr. to remind him to work hard.

Even now, he sleeps with a baseball and glove. A bat leans against his bed.

``He has a natural drive for life,'' his mother, Teresina DiCaprio-Geery, said. ``Adam never settles for anything less than the best ability he is able to do. He thrives on pushing himself to be number one.''

His efforts have earned him a .435 batting average with a home run and 20 RBI to go with his 3-0 record, 1.40 ERA and 32 strikeouts against just four walks in 25 innings.

When he pitches he wishes he'd be known for his hitting. He won a home run-hitting contest last week in Las Vegas. But when he didn't pitch for almost a month because of a back sprain, he often talked about returning to the mound.

His love of the game isn't blind. He thinks players are overpaid, that Gary Sheffield is out of line and baseball is getting too close to professional wrestling: ``Fights break out. You get hit with a pitch, run to first base. What's the use of fighting? `I got enough money so I can go and get into a fight and pay only a dime's worth of my salary.' You get hit, run to first base. Once you hit 90 mph, the damn thing hurts.

``What I'd like to see is more sacrifices. Stop worrying about how much you get paid or when your next Nike commercial is and start worrying about winning a ring because that's what it's about.''

He backed it up Monday when, playing catcher, he threw out a San Fernando runner to end the game. He also stole home.

``He really blows me away sometimes,'' his mother said.

This year, Geery got a job to help make ends meet. His mother cashed his first paycheck and gave him the money. The next day, he asked her if he could borrow money.

``Where's your money?'' she asked. He said, ``I spent it on my friends.''

At age 4, he told his mother and uncle: ``People don't understand. Baseball is my life.''

When he was in seventh grade, he told his future Kennedy teammate, Bobby Phillips, that he would play varsity baseball at Kennedy and win a championship ring.

``In seventh grade, I didn't know about high school baseball,'' Phillips said, ``and here's Adam. He knew what he wanted.''

His coach, Manny Alvarado, has long resisted giving up his uniform No. 7 to players.

Geery now wears it, not because he knew Mickey Mantle wore 7 for the Yankees (something Alvarado says many players don't know), but because he wanted to honor his father, Walter, who died when Adam was 6. Walter Geery wore 7, and his favorite player was Mantle.

``The greatest risk is not taking one,'' Geery said. ``If you're not taking the chance to embarrass yourself to get a laugh, then what's the use? Sometimes, to get a laugh, you embarrass yourself a couple of times.''

CAPTION(S):

2 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) GEERY

(2) Adam Geery of Kennedy High in Granada Hills is a multifaceted teen-ager who leaves a positive impression on and off the field.

Evan Yee/Staff Photographer