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Stealing Home. He spent less than three years in the minors before he was pushed, at Owner Calvin Griffith's orders, into the starting job at second base. He batted .292 his first season and was named Rookie of the Year. (The National League's top rookie that year turned out to be quite a player himself: Tom Seaver.) Two seasons later, Carew stole home seven times, tying the major league record. His manager was Billy Martin, now the godfather of Carew's older daughter, Charryse. "I taught him how to steal home," Martin says. "That's all I ever taught him. As for hitting, he knew how to do that all by himself." Martin adds: "And he could bunt .330 if he tried."
In his early years in the majors, Carew was moody, a loner who made friends slowly and suffered slights poorly. In 1970 a runner crashed into him while trying to break up a double play. Carew underwent surgery for a torn knee cartilage and, thereafter, was gun-shy on the pivot. This did not endear him to Manager Bill Rigney, nor Rigney to Carew. In a rare admission for an athlete, Carew acknowledged his fear and tried to conquer his anxiety on the field. Rigney's public questioning of his courage did not help.
The effects of this injury and his manager's reaction still linger; Carew is reluctant to leave the lineup when hurt. Last week, though he had a minor back injury, he insisted on playing. Opposing pitchers quickly took advantage of his stiff swing by throwing high, inside and, for a change, effectively. Carew's average flagged, but he played.
In 1976 Carew was shifted to first base. He has since blossomed into a graceful and steady defensive player who—like all the great ones—makes the tough chance look easy. The loner has also become a mature team leader as well as the heart of the Twins offense. Though he has become a superstar, he has remained unassuming, claiming no special privileges—other than the right to coddle his bats. On the contrary, he shags stray balls for batting-practice pitchers—a job usually left to utility players and aging coaches. Once when he failed to run out a long foul ball that the wind suddenly blew fair, he fined himself for not hustling. Says Twins Manager Gene Mauch: "As impressed as I am with Rod Carew the hitter, Rod Carew the baseball player, I am more impressed with Rod Carew the man."
Much of the change that has come over Carew stems from a night in 1968. He went out to a local nightspot with friends for drinks and a favorite diversion, girl watching. That evening, Marilynn Levy had gone to King Solomon's Mines to celebrate her 23rd birthday with a high school chum. Marilynn was, as she puts it, a nice Jewish girl from North Minneapolis, Morrie Levy's pride and joy. Raised in a conservative family, she had led a sheltered—almost a programmed—life. "I never went out with anyone whom my family didn't know. I was raised as a good Jewish girl to get married, raise children, clean the house and take care of my husband."