David Wells pitched four seasons (1997-98, 2002-03) for George Steinbrenner’s Yankees, compiling a record of 68-28 and pitching one of the team’s three perfect games, on May 17, 1998, against the Twins. He shares with Post readers his memories of his often contentious, always remarkable, days of playing for The Boss. As told to Mike Puma.
I WAS still in bed yesterday in San Diego when a buddy of mine called to say George Steinbrenner had died. Talk about a wake-up call.
The memories started flooding back immediately. I last saw The Boss in January when I was in Tampa for a fantasy camp, and he looked good. It was the old George. He knew I was in the stadium, and sent somebody down to say hello.
I got invited up to see him, and we had a nice talk — me, George and his son Hal. Then Chris Chambliss, Bucky Dent, Oscar Gamble and some of the others at the camp came and joined the discussion. George didn’t miss a beat. He was right on the mark.
George and I got along great because we were cut from the same cloth. He wanted people to go out there and wear their hearts on their sleeve and he wanted warriors. He just had that winning attitude, and so did I. We didn’t take guff from anybody.
I sure as hell didn’t back down to him. I remember we were playing a game against the Expos at the Stadium in 1997 — my first year with the Yankees — and Darrin Fletcher hit a home run against me. I came in the clubhouse during the eighth inning and said: “George, you’ve got to do something with that fence in right field. People can’t keep leaning over and taking home runs away. It’s going to hurt us.”
George popped off at me, and I didn’t like what he said, so we got in each other’s face and I kind of chased him out of the clubhouse. About a week later we hashed it out. We remained friends ever since.
We butted heads, but we got over it. That was something George was always good at. Even though he would rub you the wrong way occasionally, he was only doing that because he wanted to win and wanted the best out of your abilities.
That is something you have to respect in a player/owner relationship. If you did well for him and proved you could go out there and com pete, win, and be a man about it, he would give you the shirt off his back.
The worst day of my life was the day I got traded back to Toronto in 1999 for Roger Clemens, but I also know it hurt George to make that trade. He didn’t want to do it. But Joe Torre wanted me gone, and George was at a point in his life where he was ceding more authority to the people around him.
Then, before the 2002 season, George wanted me back. We worked out the deal over burgers in Clearwater. It was just him and I — no agents or any of his people.
I look back on that and know this guy did respect me, he did like me. I can go to my grave and say: “The Boss and I were friends, and I had his respect as much as he had mine.”
That’s a good feeling. That is something I can smile about all the time.