Charles O. Finley, who pays him $135,000 a year to hit and catch baseballs, would not have been amused. Neither would the insurance company that covers his life for $1.7 million. Or his teammates on the Oakland Athletics, who are depending on his play this year for a shot at their third consecutive World Championship. But practical concerns were the last thing on Reggie Jackson's mind. Wearing a cotton tennis hat instead of a crash helmet, the A's slugger tore round the Oakland suburb of San Leandro on a motorcycle. As he bolted past a group of astonished friends, Jackson shouted, "I love it!" Then he disappeared back into the traffic. When he finally skidded to a stop, Jackson affectionately patted the borrowed Harley Davidson Sportster and announced, "You sure can raise hell down here."
Jackson loves to raise hell anywhere, any time—in his own style. Leaving rubber on San Leandro's main street is part of his superstar gig, along with collecting old cars and racks of new custom-made clothes. But to Jackson, raising hell means making his presence felt in quiet ways as well as loud. He is accused of insufficient sympathy for fellow blacks; yet he unobtrusively gives away thousands of dollars every year to black, Indian and Mexican-American community groups. He sometimes likes to come on like just another impulsive free-spending jock; actually, he is a shrewd businessman (land development) who just may make good on an ambition to become baseball's first black team owner.
In the show biz world of sport, Jackson wants the record to show that he is a serious citizen, something more than yesterday's mixed-up kid grown up to be today's hero. Success and psychotherapy have helped give him a strong sense of himself as a person as well as an athlete and celebrity. He means to enjoy all the roles available to him.
Introspection has ruined some players. Not Jackson. At 28 he is in his prime and fully mindful that winning baseball games is what he does best. He did it better last year—and continues to do it better this year—than any other player in the American League. When the 1973 regular season ended, Jackson led his league in five offensive categories: home runs (32), RBls (117), runs scored (99), game-winning hits (18) and "slugging percentage" —the production of extra-base hits (.531). He also managed to hit a very respectable .293, the tenth best A.L. average. On the base paths he is a daring thief, diving into bases to stretch singles to doubles or doubles to triples.
Streak Hitting. Though once a sloppy defenseman, Rightfielder Jackson now makes a habit of circus catches and bullet throws to the infield and home. Last October Jackson tormented the New York Mets in the World Series as he led the A's in hitting and spectacular outfield defense. For his efforts, he was named Most Valuable Player of the league and the series. The awards merely underscored what everyone in baseball already knew—Reginald Martinez Jackson is the best player on the best team in the sport.