A bigger giant

Rowand quickly became team's clubhouse leader

Henry Schulman - San Francisco Chronicle (SFGate)

Aaron Rowand sat by his locker this week and uttered a simple declaration that every hotshot prospect and clubhouse loudmouth in baseball should remember.

"Nobody in this game deserves respect," Rowand said. "You have to earn it."

Rowand has earned it. The currency of his respect is a World Series ring, the image of his bloodied face after crashing into that wall in Philadelphia, playing in 107 of 112 games in 2008 despite busting a rib or two in the second game of the season and his demeanor as the Giants' clubhouse leader.

And make no mistake. Even if Rowand is correct in saying, "We're all equals in this clubhouse," he has emerged as the first among equals.

"This is Rowand's team," reliever Jack Taschner said. "He is the leader of this team. He is an outstanding leader. He talks the talk, but then he does it on the field."

If Taschner is correct, Rowand has accomplished something unusual by emerging as the leader of a team he just joined. That was no accident. In the wake of Barry Bonds' departure and a shift to youth, management understood the 2008 Giants would need a strong, experienced voice in the clubhouse.

Rowand's role as a leader was discussed when he negotiated his five-year, $60 million contract.

The Giants' clubhouse is not a monarchy. Other players mentor and lead, too. Just one example: After a game in Los Angeles last weekend, a younger player was conducting a postgame interview while wearing ear buds connected to a music player. Randy Winn walked by and told the player to remove them.

Winn does not believe there is one clubhouse leader and said, "I don't feel it's an important topic. All the veterans lead. Either you're a vocal leader or you lead by example or you do a little bit of both. At some point in the season, you need everybody to step up and pull his own weight."

Rowand began to make an impact days before spring training. He showed up early so he could meet his new teammates as they filed in, and he joined other seasoned Giants in speaking at early team meetings and establishing clubhouse rules. He organized a bowling tournament. He worked the room.

He still works the room during the season, stopping by players' lockers to chat. Sometimes, in private, he will cajole.

"I think being a leader, you've got to not be afraid to call people out, not be afraid to ruffle some feathers," Taschner said. "A good leader isn't somebody whom everybody likes, but somebody everyone respects. Everybody does like Rowand because he's got a good personality and he will talk to you. But he's not a guy who's going to beat around the bush. If he doesn't like something, he's going to speak his mind.

"What makes him a leader is whatever he says, whatever he puts out there, he backs up."

Manager Bruce Bochy is the boss, but every manager needs players to lead from within.

"He's not in the clubhouse every second," Rowand said of Bochy. "He's in his office doing his stuff. On every club, you need guys to take on that role because we're the ones spending the majority of the time with each other. It's not the manager's job to baby-sit.

"It's up to the older guys on the team to help the younger guys out, to mentor, to police, to be the guys who are responsible for bringing everyone together for one common goal, to win ballgames together as a unit."

Rowand and other clubhouse leaders are filling a void. During Bonds' 15 seasons in San Francisco, he was such an overpowering presence, other players found it difficult to be vocal lest they step on his toes.

Brian Johnson, a catcher on the 1997 National League West title team, said Bonds and Jeff Kent were "our agitators on the field," and Johnson meant that in a good way. They were Teddy Roosevelt on his trusty steed leading the charge up San Juan Hill.

But not so much inside the clubhouse.

"Barry just didn't do it very well," Johnson said. "It was his clubhouse, but he didn't want that role. He wanted the title. He wanted it to be his clubhouse, but he didn't want to do the team-building stuff, so we kind of worked around that. We didn't have one leader."

Really, the team did not need one because it had so many seasoned players who conducted their business the right way. As former closer Robb Nen said, "All the guys policed themselves."

Things are different now. The clubhouse is populated by neophytes. Patriarchs such as Rowand, Winn, Bengie Molina, Dave Roberts, Rich Aurilia and Omar Vizquel are in the minority. Among those, Rowand is the one who will be here through 2012, which adds more currency to his leadership.

Even Rowand would admit he is not the Oracle of 24 Willie Mays Plaza. Young Latino players feel more comfortable seeking out Molina and Vizquel because of their shared language and experiences, which is nothing new. Jim Davenport, a Giants infielder from 1958-70, said young African Americans such as Bobby Bonds and Jim Ray Hart gravitated toward Willie Mays and Willie McCovey for similar cultural reasons.

Nor would Rowand deny that his struggles at the plate have made it tougher to lead.

"I'd be lying to you if I didn't say at times that can be difficult," he said, "because when you're not getting the results you want, it's real easy to not be as exuberant or as vocal as you probably want to be."

But Rowand said he tried to maintain a consistent personality. Panic and anger are not good examples to set for someone who views himself as a leader.

"I wouldn't do or say anything that I wouldn't do to myself," he said. "I'm not better than anybody else in this clubhouse. I don't think anybody else puts himself on a pedestal. We're all equals."

Leaders among Giants

1960s: Willie Mays and {utriangle} Willie McCovey

Quote: "We had some guys on there who were very quiet, like Mays and McCovey, but when they spoke you listened. We didn't have a cheerleader as such, but when these two guys would speak and say, 'You guys need to be quiet or you guys need to speak up,' that's exactly what we did. They would lead by example. They would lead by what they were supposed to do on the field." - Gaylord Perry (1962-71)

1970s: {utriangle} Jim Barr and McCovey

Quote: "Barr was a mean SOB, but he was great to me. When McCovey came back in '77, even though Willie Mac was a quiet type of leader, because he commanded so much respect you kind of followed the rules that Willie Mac set." - Dave Heaverlo (1975-77)

1980s: Bob Brenly and Mike Krukow

Quote: "First of all, they had credibility. They had been around for a few years. Bob Brenly was just an outspoken person, and the way he played. Krukow was one of the most competitive guys I've been around. He worked hard between starts and on the mound. With his stuff, he battled as good as anybody. I think they led more by example. They also took it upon themselves to help the young guys when they came up, Robby Thompson and Will Clark." - Atlee Hammaker (1982-90)

1990s: A committee

Quote: "It was Rod Beck and Robb Nen. J.T. Snow was solid in there. Dusty Baker was unique because he was the manager but also very much a part of the clubhouse. Usually there was a kind of separation. He was cool enough where he could play both roles. Woody (Kirk Rueter) did it in his way, too." - Brian Johnson (1997-98)