By Paul Daugherty
Cincinnati Enquirer

Since his first-night dance in the footlights — 3-for-3 with a three-run homer, 27 days ago — he is nearly invisible, and that is something we never figured to say about Deion Sanders.

Sanders bangs around the late innings, hoping for a pinch-hitting appearance, trying to find his swing against the other team's closer. Hitting a baseball is hard. Hitting major-league pitching after a three-year hiatus is damned near impossible.

Not just hitting it, either. Not topping it or popping it or bouncing it to second base, but meeting the ball flush and sending it on a line somewhere.

Bill Doran, the Reds first-base coach, says Sanders is fouling a lot of balls straight back. That means he's getting the barrel of the bat in decent position. He's not playing enough for his swing to smooth out.

“His at-bats have been better than his numbers,” Doran said.

How could they not be? Since 3-for-3, Sanders is 4-for-44.

Smarter player

Ironically, from the neck up Sanders is a better player than he has ever been. He has learned to bunt. He isn't trying to pull everything. He doesn't flail at as many curveballs.

“I can hit,” Sanders said Sunday. “That's the least of my worries. But to maximize my potential, I have to play. If you want my best, you're going to have to take my bad with my good.”

The Reds can't wait for his good, not with Dmitri Young, Alex Ochoa and Michael Tucker needing to play every day. When Junior Griffey returns, the house lights may come up on Sanders' baseball career in Cincinnati. And, probably, anywhere else.

Leadoff hitters batting .149 with an on-base percentage of .231 are not in great demand, even as curiosities. Any concerns about Deion leaving in July for an NFL camp seem irrelevant now.

It's too bad. Because the Deion of 2001 is a better, more interesting man than the Prime Time we saw here in '94 and '97. His faith is deep and genuine. His peace seems real.

“I'm too blessed to be stressed, brother. If I'm here, I'm happy. If I'm not, I'm happy. It's all God's will,” he said. “I live what I say. I played around too long in my life not to.”

Many sides to Deion

There are two ways to look at Deion. We could note his good fortune: Jim Bowden's celebrity worship allows Sanders to chase his baseball fantasy. Or we could praise his character: He's willing to humble himself to try to re-learn major league baseball. It's an ego bruise to go from being one of the best cornerbacks in NFL history to hitting .149.

Probably, we should do both. And realize that even the best athletes don't come without limits.

“I last played in early July,” Aaron Boone was saying. “It took me spring training and a couple weeks here before I was comfortable at the plate.”

Try taking three years off. Sanders is asking for patience and playing time. He's not going to get much more of either. “It's hard for me not to perform the way I know I can,” he said.

He's running out of time in the footlights now. He's practically dancing in the dark.