FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. -- Nickelodeon, the kids' channel, requested 10 minutes and got 15. Some fitness production dropped off a packet asking him to consider a cable series. On a back field somewhere awaits a post-game conditioning program with team strength coach Tim Bishop and tennis star Amanda Coetzer, currently No. 1 in his rankings.

Yep, it's spring training again in Brady Anderson's world.

But for all of Anderson's body-beautiful training and media-friendly antics -- Home Team Sports has again stuck a microphone on him for its "behind-the-scenes" special -- a very serious chore awaits the Orioles center fielder. One year after arriving in camp with a new five-year, $31 million contract, Anderson is trying to outrun 1998 and the uncomfortable questions it raised about his production and his durability.

"I told him, 'Maybe because of the last two years people think you've fallen off,' " said manager Ray Miller, who suffered along with Anderson as the center fielder endured a stay on the disabled list and a lost first half. "I thought he'd fallen off more because of injuries."

Alternately bothered by shoulder, knee, hand and groin injuries last season, Anderson batted .236 with 18 home runs, only 51 RBIs and 49 extra-base hits. He was occasionally benched and ultimately removed from the leadoff role the last two months of the schedule. Yet Anderson chafes when his injuries are mentioned.

"To me, that's unfair," Anderson said. "Two years ago, I had injuries but I also had 600 at-bats and the second-best year of my career. As banged up as I was in '96, I hit 50 home runs." But not last season.

Anderson dates tennis players -- including his current South African flame, Coetzer -- but he's actually married to his numbers. Last season, the honeymoon ended after injuries wrecked Anderson's first half, which included a brief falling out with Miller due to his unwillingness to go on the disabled list with a strained sternoclavicular joint. When Anderson looked up from April, he was 4-for-52 with one home run. He found himself hitting .063 on May 11, managed 14 hits in his first 100 at-bats, and didn't enjoy a three-hit game until June 20, the team's 74th game.

A lost season can't be erased but Anderson has arrived in camp determined to prove it a cruel fluke.

"I know I'm a good athlete and good athletes get better when they work at it," Anderson said.

Toward that end, Anderson is taking plenty of innings and more than the veteran's obligatory two at-bats per game. Playing down talk of "proving himself," there is still a determination to prove last season wrong. Wayne Gretzky last week dropped off a Koho elbow brace so elaborate that it transforms Anderson from leadoff hitter to RoboBatter.

"Brady's playing a lot down here, and people wonder if he might get hurt. You can get hurt in the shower. But he needs to get his swing going. He needs a lot of at-bats to do that. His legs are feeling good. He's using the whole field. I want him there when the season starts," Miller said.

The manager has established a goal for his anointed leadoff hitter to score 100 runs, something he has done three times the last seven seasons. Limited to 133 games last year and 57 fewer hits than in 1997, Anderson still scored 84 runs, third on the team to Rafael Palmeiro and Roberto Alomar.

Anderson formulates goals that he does not disclose. One of them is undoubtedly to prove the club wrong in its attempt to auction his position and his spot in the batting order. He now labels himself only as a "run-scorer," a description seconded by this spring's quicker, more compact swing and willingness to use all fields.

Once an addicted pull hitter, Anderson no longer appears burdened by expectations resulting from his 50 home runs in 1996. Instead, he has opened himself to advice from hitting coach Terry Crowley, an advocate of line-drive, opposite-field hitting.

"I think I have something to prove every single year I play," Anderson said. "Last year, I proved certain things to myself."

He read daily accounts last winter about the team's pursuit of Brian Jordan and its hope of inserting him into center field, a place Anderson defends with territorial ferocity.

"It's kind of ridiculous. I know I can play a great center field. People can be pretty subjective about center field. How do you quantify balls that I catch that somebody else wouldn't get to? I know I'm fast. I'm really fast. I can prove it by racing other people and my times on a track," said Anderson, who refers to the Jordan dalliance as "the typical grass-is-greener story."

At the same time, he resisted suggestions to undergo surgery to repair his patella tendon. Arthroscopic surgery was not an option so Anderson opted to endure discomfort from what is considered a 10 percent tear. Instead, Anderson threw himself into an off-season running program, cut back on weights and traveled to Australia and Japan.

Anderson's cross-training has elevated him into one of the game's most technically correct runners. His bare torso has adorned numerous fitness magazines. He is among the game's most gifted and adaptable athletes, able to volley with women professional tennis players and run with competition sprinters. The Orioles, however, would be even more impressed if Anderson could construct an injury-free season and play a solid center field.

When the Orioles signed free agent Delino DeShields, Anderson was aware of sentiment within the organization of bumping him from his leadoff role, a place he has occupied since becoming a regular in 1992. He was told by Miller this spring about the possibility of hitting third.

The Orioles' unsuccessful but highly visible pursuit of Jordan with a five-year, $40 million offer also sent a clear message that the organization no longer considered Anderson an easy fit in center, even with Camden Yards' smallish dimensions.

When Anderson arrived in camp, he was greeted by revisionist history. Miller assured him he was his top choice at the position.

When Jordan is mentioned, Anderson replies tersely.

"Where's he playing now?"

The answer, of course, is right field with the Atlanta Braves.

"I just want to play. So let me play, and let me play hard. I've never known anybody to question my effort," Anderson adds.

With that, Anderson reaches down and begins attaching the numerous Velcro strips to his elbow brace. Pondering when he might be allowed his first injury-free season, Anderson steps toward the field.

"That just doesn't seem to be my way. Even if things are going well, something happens. But now that I've got the Koho, how am I going to get hurt?" he said, not wanting to know the answer.

Pub Date: 3/13/99