By Jerry Crasnick
Bloomberg News

PHILADELPHIA — Toronto Manager Buck Martinez spoke out for old-school baseball protocol last week when he criticized Boston pitcher Pedro Martinez for entering the Blue Jays' clubhouse during a rain delay at Fenway Park.

Judging from the reaction of some of Buck Martinez's peers, the old school has a lot of alumni.

Several big-league managers agreed that the baseball locker room is sacred territory, and there's no excuse for trespassing by the opposition. As the lines between competition and fraternization blur, they said, it's the one absolute.

"Common sense tells you that you don't belong in somebody else's clubhouse," Atlanta Manager Bobby Cox said Monday during a series at Veterans Stadium. "It's an unwritten rule. You just don't do that."

Major League Baseball prohibits players from getting too friendly at the park because it doesn't want those relationships to affect the competition on the field or create doubts in the minds of fans. Rule 3.09 says that "players of opposing teams shall not fraternize at any time while in uniform."

But several factors have made on-field fraternization more prevalent and tougher to police. Players change teams more easily since the advent of free agency in the 1970s. They share agents, have wider social networks and can file grievances with the union when they're disciplined. They also bump into each other more readily in the weight room and other common areas.

Ralph Nelson, MLB's vice president in charge of umpires, said baseball used to assign umpires to sit in the stands before games to monitor excessive fraternization on the field. Umpires would write reports and the offending players would be fined.

The responsibility eventually shifted from umpires to the clubs, Nelson said.

Players from older generations typically take the greatest offense at on-field kibitzing. When Nelson worked in the San Francisco Giants' front office, he'd sit beside General Manager Al Rosen before games and watch Rosen chafe as opponents and Giants players ran wind sprints, then stopped to chat in center field.

Rosen's competitive mindset was a remnant of his 10 seasons as a third baseman with the Cleveland Indians in the 1940s and '50s.

"To the old-timers, that's like fingernails on a blackboard," Nelson said. "It's just before you're going to war, and guys are out there shooting the bull with the enemy. That used to fry Al."

Still, some pregame spectacles transcend etiquette. Cox recalls that players from both teams used to gather around the cage when Boston outfielder Ted Williams took his majestic swings during batting practice.

Managers aren't the only ones who don't like opposing players mingling in the clubhouse. In 1992, St. Louis first baseman Pedro Guerrero invited Chicago Cubs outfielder Sammy Sosa, a fellow native of the Dominican Republic, to dinner after a game.

After Sosa showed up in the St. Louis locker room, Cardinals reliever Todd Worrell took offense and began arguing with Guerrero. The teammates got into a fight and had to be separated.

When Oakland hosted Texas to begin the season, Athletics Manager Art Howe understood why rookie first baseman Carlos Pena wanted to chat with Rangers shortstop Alex Rodriguez before the game. Pena came up through the Texas system before the Rangers traded him to Oakland over the winter.

"I can understand why Carlos wants to go over and give A-Rod a hug," Howe said. "I don't have a problem with it as long as he's all business when the game starts. If he's going into second base, I expect him to take A-Rod out."

Howe, conversely, won't stand for one of his players setting foot in the opposing clubhouse.

"It's a sanctuary for your team, and that's it," Howe said.

Copyright © 2002 The Seattle Times Company