Brewers' Nyjer Morgan displays many sides of himself

MILWAUKEE - As the champagne gushed like oil from newly struck wells, the man whose 10th-inning single had triggered the Brewers' Friday night bubble bash was somehow apart from it all.

Dressed in a soggy uniform and a black-metal swat-team helmet, Nyjer Morgan paced the clubhouse in a solitary fog, as if more determined to comprehend his good fortune then enjoy it.

On the joyful night that Milwaukee earned its first Championship Series berth in 29 years, Morgan, the diminutive outfielder with many alter-egos displayed several sides of himself - the outstanding, the outlandish and, finally, the outsider.

His line-drive single off Arizona closer J.J. Putz won the Brewers Game 5 of the NL division series and set them up for an NLCS rematch of the '82 World Series, against the despised Cardinals.

But that wasn't all Morgan had done in his biggest moment yet in the spotlight, a place critics of his most un-baseball-like style insist he'd like to occupy permanently.

Earlier in the 3-2 victory, after a double that he'd punctuated with his trademark over-the-top posturing, he'd scored on a pop fly to the second baseman. He also broke a bat over his knee, swung so hard at one pitch that he toppled over, celebrated the triumph so vigorously initially that his swat-team helmet bruised teammate Randy Wolf's face, and finally uttered obscenities during a nationally televised interview.

After all that, dealing with an emotional postgame cocktail that was equal parts joy, vindication, and something indecipherable, Morgan walked off by himself. He'd embrace a teammate or answer a single question from a reporter, then stride off alone on his personal trek.

"Nyjer can't talk right now," said manager Ron Roenicke, when he was asked about the play of his sparkplug outfielder. "He's emotional."

Roenicke, who in his first year as Milwaukee's manager has had to deal with the residue of Morgan's act - derided by opponents but embraced by most of his teammates - then got emotional himself.

"He's just a joy to have, I'll tell you," Roenicke said. "I don't care about all the little issues. . . . This guy, I love him on this team. I like him as a really nice young man. He came through big again."

Morgan tried to explain how a player who had behaved like a joyful tot in the immediate aftermath of the game could transform so suddenly into someone so introspective.

"It's a lot," he said, when asked about his emotional reaction. "Everything that I've had to overcome. Just the stuff that people go out there and perceive about me. . . . All my haters, I just wanted to show them that I can play this game. Even though I've got a fun, bubbly personality and everything like that, I still come to win. And I'm a winner."

What makes Morgan so simultaneously maddening and fascinating is that he's so much more - a top-of-the-lineup table-setter, a dugout pep-talker, a pain in the rear to opponents, and that most despised of baseball villains, a showboat.

"This is how I've always been," said Morgan, who, no surprise given the baggage, is playing for his third team since 2009. "It's who I am. I know it bothers some people. But as long as I do this stuff for the right reason and play hard, I've got to be me."

As anyone who has watched these Brewers knows, since Morgan arrived in a spring-training deal with Washington, those four racing sausages aren't Miller Park's only well-known hot dogs.

Influenced by Morgan's hyper-enthusiasm, his teammates have joined the fun. Prince Fielder, the overweight vegetarian slugger who tends to be taciturn, incorporated a series of arm gestures to mark big base hits, a style he derived from the movie Monsters Inc. and which has been dubbed "Beast Mode." So has batting champ Ryan Braun.

Dreadlocked Rickie Weeks, biker-bearded Casey McGehee, shortstop Yuniesky Betancourt, centerfielder Carlos Gomez, and setup man Francisco Rodriguez rarely let pass an opportunity to chest-bump or celebrate.

"I know, we're the kind of team other teams don't like," said Brewers pitcher Randy Wolf, the ex-Phillie. "If I'm on the other side, I wouldn't like some of the stuff we do either. But when you're here on the inside, you understand that it's a great group of guys who aren't trying to show anybody up."

If you're still having trouble comprehending Morgan, just think of Chase Utley in reverse. All the emotions the Phillies second baseman keeps bottled up seem to have been channeled to Morgan.

The name on the back of the helmet - given to him by Milwaukee police when he likened the Brewers to "a swat team" - Morgan wore after Friday's game said "Tony Plush."

Plush is his best-known fictional persona, the entertainer side of his nature. His other selves are "Tony Gumbel, the professional" and "Tony Tombstone, the city slicker."

A 31-year-old San Franciscan who left home at 16 to play junior hockey in Canada, Morgan hit .304 with a .357 on-base percentage, 61 runs scored, and 13 stolen bases in 119 games for Milwaukee. Against Arizona, he went just 3 for 16, but two of those hits came when they were most needed.

He arrived here as a fill-in and won a key spot in Roenicke's rotation.

"I knew his aggressive style of play could be contagious," said Milwaukee GM Doug Melvin. "The other things that come with Nyjer really did energize our ball club a lot. . . . We did make some phone calls and find out that Nyjer just loves to play and loves to compete and he's about winning, and we've seen that."

So has St. Louis, which sets up a delicious subplot when the first NLCS since 2007 that won't include the Phillies begins here Sunday. Morgan and the Cardinals dislike each other.

Earlier this season, umpires ordered Morgan to stop barking from the dugout at Cardinals pitcher Chris Carpenter. Later in the year, after Carpenter struck him out, Morgan snapped, charging at the pitcher before being restrained. Then, in one of his frequent tweeting frenzies, he criticized St. Louis superstar Albert Pujols

It was a reversion to his 2010 form, when, with the Nationals, he had been involved in several controversial collisions at home plate - some deemed unnecessary by opponents - argued with fans, been fined and suspended.

There were those who worried about his psychological well-being and his baseball career. The best thing that could have happened to both was the trade to Milwaukee.

Still, Roenicke admitted he had gotten several calls from MLB officials this year regarding Morgan's behavior.

"Sometimes, he does some things that he shouldn't," said Roenicke. "When I get a call from [MLB executive vice president] Joe Torre saying, 'Hey Ron, you need to talk to him.' I bring him in, and the conversations are always good."

So are his abilities. He's a good defender with above-average speed, and in more than 600 big-league games he has a career average of .288.

Now, in the glare of the postseason, the world will notice. And that's all Morgan wants.

"Now that we're on a bigger stage, I think a lot of people are going to discover Nyjer," said closer John Axford, "and find out what a good player he is."