As part of Bronx Banter‘s ongoing series of Yankee Stadium recollections, noted Bobby Bonilla nemesis Bob Klapisch tells Alex Belth about the time in 1997 that David Wells had the temerity to complain to his paymaster about a proto-Jeffrey Maier interfering with Paul O’Neil in right field (link taken from Repoz and Baseball Think Factory).
“Hey, George, you need to get some security out there in right field. Build a wall or something,” Wells (above) said.
Steinbrenner: “Never mind about the fucking security, you just worry about your pitching. You better start winning some games, because you’re not the pitcher I thought you were.”
Wells: “Is that right? Well, you can go fuck yourself. If you don’t like it, you can trade me.”
Steinbrenner: “Believe me, I would, but no one wants your fat ass.”
Wells: “You better get the fuck out of this room, before I fucking knock you out.”
Steinbrenner: “Go ahead, do it. Try it. You think I’m afraid of you?”
Wells and Steinbrenner apparently eyeballed each other for another moment, before the tension defused. No punches were thrown.
How did I know all this? Three teammates and one of the Yankee trainers were in the clubhouse during the exchange “ two of whom couldn’t wait to give me the blow-by-blow as soon as the game was over.
Boomer was waiting for me the next day at his locker, where we usually made small talk before batting practice. But not this time.
“Who told you about me and George?” Wells asked coldly. It was more of a threat than a question: our war was just beginning.
“You know I can’t tell you, David,” I said. “If you told me something in confidence, I’d respect that. It’s called protecting your sources.”
“Fuck that. I have to know who’s the rat in this clubhouse,” he said.
“Sorry,” I said, even though I wasn’t.
“Listen, you think about it during the game,” Wells said. “You come down here afterwards and tell me who I can and can’t trust. If you don’t, we’re done.”