DATE: Thursday, April 24, 1997              TAG: 9704240584

SECTION: SPORTS                  PAGE: C1   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: TOM ROBINSON

                                            LENGTH:   65 lines

IZZY LEAVES 'EM DIZZY WITH HIS CHILDISH BEHAVIOR

It's safe to say Jason Isringhausen has never tried to visit a girlfriend by climbing to a third-floor condo balcony since that fateful night in Florida a few years ago, when a railing snapped and the prized New York Mets minor leaguer plunged to earth.

Isringhausen earned a couple of broken toes and a serious head gash for his effort, but that little episode taught him a lesson: Spider-man, he ain't. So now he takes the steps like other mortals.

Sad to say, recent developments seem to indicate that Isringhausen is still a little slow on the uptake, meaning that pain and/or embarrassment remain the quickest ways into the Isringhausen brain.

First came word that the punch Isringhausen landed upon a plastic trash can after a rough first inning on opening night at Harbor Park two weeks ago actually registered a knockout - of Isringhausen.

Isringhausen, 24, is a righthanded pitcher, thus he threw a hard right at his stationary foe. And broke his wrist, as bone scans revealed this week.

Lesson learned: Always lead with the left jab.

Isringhausen, who was already on a medical rehabilitation assignment with the Tides, now has about six to eight weeks before he begins his next rehab stint in Norfolk. Unless the Mets send him to Double-A, where the trash cans don't hit back as hard.

So while all that was taking shape, it was exposed, you might say, that Isringhausen had played for one of his favorite topless club's slow-pitch softball team during spring training.

This would be the same spring training during which Isringhausen was unable to throw at full speed because of the shoulder and elbow surgeries he underwent last September.

Some of his softball teammates have come forward to say that Isringhausen only played first base on occasion, so he didn't throw. But he hit so many home runs, nine in 12 trips to the plate according to official topless league stats, that opponents began to complain about this big-league ringer.

One of them apparently ratted out Isringhausen to Mets manager Bobby Valentine, who turned up at the next game to catch Isringhausen in the act. Isringhausen was absent that night, but he fessed up the next day.

Lesson learned: Next season, wear the Groucho mask.

What we have learned is that Isringhausen still has plenty of knucklehead in him, and he needs to clean house.

He's a free-spirited kid from the tiny town of Brighton, Ill., not loud necessarily but a lot of laughs in his own quirky way. He isn't mean or nasty, he doesn't snarl at kids or kick dogs - though there is a lawsuit pending against him in Norfolk over a traffic accident on I-264 two years ago.

In general, Isringhausen's always proven to be pretty much harmless, except to himself. Which is precisely the character flaw that is testing the patience of the Mets, who think Isringhausen can be spectacular once his arm's healthy and his head gets on straight.

The scary thing is, Isringhausen's high school football coach said the same thing about the head part nearly a decade ago.

``You only have so many chances,'' Valentine said the other day. ``You only get so many strikes.''

Isringhausen's always been said to have no fear. Now, he has no choice when it comes to leaving childish ways behind.

``He's a big puppy dog, likable as can be,'' Tides general manager Dave Rosenfield said. ``At some point, though, he's going to have to grow up, much as he may not want to.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo

Jason Isringhausen

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