Mt. Everett dormant on Day 1

PEORIA, Ariz. — Carl Everett spent his first day with the Mariners, and no horns grew from his head, nor did he foam at the mouth.

There was no venom in his equipment bag and no invective in his chat with a group of reporters after Seattle's first full day of workouts.

Everett has been a lightning rod for controversy for his outspoken ideas that sometimes clash with popular lines of thought, and at times for his temperament.

But Tuesday, well-spoken and upbeat, and frank about himself and those around him, the new outfielder totally belied his repute for outrageousness.

To be sure, no one tried to get a rise out of him with sundry and sometimes seemingly harmless topics such as gays, dinosaurs, fans, Tiger Woods or Wrigley Field.

At one point or another over his 13 years with seven organizations, Everett's thoughts on one or another of those matters has gotten him headlines and heartache.

"I think everyone is controversial, but that some of us get the label, especially after you disagree with them," Everett said. "I disagree a lot. I speak my mind."

Like others known to be offbeat — such as Bill Lee (The Spaceman) or Mark Fidrych (The Bird), pitchers from years ago — Everett often seems to get questions thrown at him like a red cape in front of a bull, just to get a reaction.

While the others' offbeat individualism was regarded benign, Everett is regarded as a Darth Vader in double knits.

"I know I'm baited a lot," he said. "Sometimes I like to bait back. I like to put people in their place, but I know at the same time I'm feeding their story."

"When I am not smiling, stay away from me," he said, referring to the times when he can be cantankerous. "I may have other things on my mind. When I am not smiling, don't bait me."

Everett insisted he didn't know what his reputation is. "I don't care. I'm just being me. Guys who know me understand, and that's all I care about.

"I just know that people are going to have an opinion about me and you can't please 10 million people.

"I don't try to make people like me. They can like me or dislike me, and it makes no difference. I'm here to win."

It took a while for Everett to join the media waiting for him. He had been signing autographs for every fan who sat through the three-hour workout, and there didn't seem to be any bad feelings about his statement that "99 percent of baseball fans have no idea what they're watching."

But if he really thinks it, he's not alone in those thoughts in any clubhouse in any professional sport. It's just that he voiced it and has to wear it.

Instead, he signs more for fans than most pro athletes during training camp because, he explains, it gets too busy during the season.

"And I gravitate toward kids rather than adults," he added. "It's a kid game, and they are the future."

Projected as the Mariners' full-time designated hitter, the switch-hitter is with Seattle to please fans, who are most pleased by victories.

"Carl Everett is a winning player and a leader," said general manager Bill Bavasi, who signed Everett to $3.4 million contract with a club option for 2007. "We needed winning players on the field and in the clubhouse."

Indeed, while Everett has bounced around, he has landed with winners. Since leaving the New York Mets after the 1997 season and going to Houston, which he calls his favorite place to play, he has been on winning teams in six of the past eight seasons.

Jamie Moyer is one Mariner who bumped emotions with Everett in the past. In August 2001, when Everett was in Boston, Moyer complained about him setting up outside the lines of the batter's box.

This habit had gotten Everett into trouble before; in July 2000, he was accused of bumping into umpire Ron Kulpa, something he vehemently denied.

In the Moyer instance, Everett went on to hit a home run and later was thought to have made an obscene gesture toward the pitcher.

"From when it happened, it's a moot point for me," Moyer said Tuesday. "Carl Everett is going to contribute, and I'm happy to have anyone on our team who can contribute. We need 25 guys to contribute."

Everett will try to contribute to Seattle's run production, which was paltry last year, and to the club's character, which seemed as scarce as the offense.

"I play loose; I like to give it all every day," he said of his style. "These guys are my teammates. I have their back. Even if they're wrong, they're still my teammates.

"I try to lead by action. You can always see in this game, but you can't always hear. You have to play 27 outs. You don't hope you're going to win. You know you're going to win. You're going to find a way to win.

"Sometimes the other team is better on paper, but you just have to figure out a way to beat them."

While he has heard talk of the Mariners' miasma of last year, he said, "I couldn't see what was going on in the Mariners' clubhouse. What I saw on the field? 'Hope we're going to win.' They didn't seem to be a team that went out to beat you but a team that was hoping they got enough hits or hoping they got enough pitching."

Discussing that issue, Moyer said he thought there might have been a lack of spirit on the 2005 Mariners.

"Players are going to be compared to Jay [Buhner] or Mike Cameron or Randy Johnson," Moyer said, "but you don't replace guys with the same type of people or personalities. I would say the spirit here was average or slightly below average."

Moyer alluded to the second year of big losses as robbing the team of spirit.

"Winning creates its own spirit," he said. "We just have to win."

Moyer, in fact, sounded just like Everett, who liked what he saw on his first day as a Mariner.

"My first impression is that despite what I had heard of this team, they seemed a lot looser," he said. "I had heard they were relaxed and laid back, but I didn't see that [in 2005]. I liked what I saw [Tuesday]."

That Seattle is his eighth team makes little impression on him.

"Baseball is baseball," he said, sounding like catcher Kenji Johjima talking about the game played in Japan. "The only thing that strikes me is getting used to another set of teammates, learning their personalities.

"All players would prefer to stay on one team, but this business doesn't work that way. To me, eight teams means you're wanted."

Bob Finnigan: 206-464-8276 or bfinnigan@seattletimes.com