Before Rickey Henderson, the "Man of Steal," elevated thievery to high art, before "Larcenous" Lou Brock swiped his way to the Baseball Hall of Fame, there was Maurice Morning Wills.

The father of the golden era of the stolen base, Wills ran as if his life depended on it. His livelihood certainly did. Standing only 5-feet-11 inches, weighing only 170 pounds, the Los Angeles Dodgers' shortstop of the 1960s was a wisp of a player who hit as many home runs in 1,942 career games (20) as St. Louis Cardinals slugger Albert Pujols piled up in the first six weeks of this season.

But, boy, could Maury run. He ran in the spring when his legs were fresh, and he ran in the dog days of summer when every muscle ached. He ran in close games and he ran in blowouts -- baseball etiquette or opponents' feelings be damned.

Sometimes Wills would steal a base or three simply to prove a point, like maybe that pitcher should have voted him into the All-Star game or maybe that catcher shouldn't have blocked the plate so aggressively. In 1962, he stole 104 bases to break Ty Cobb's record that had stood for 47 years. Wills retired a decade later with 586 career steals.

When Wills rhapsodizes about the go-go days of his prime, however, he might as well be talking about such baseball relics as hickory bats or wool uniforms.

"There are players in major league baseball today who can steal 100 bases," says Wills, 73, who still teaches the craft as a Dodgers baserunning instructor. "But the game switched and went the other way, as we all know."

Wills begat Brock, the Cardinals' star who broke Wills' single-season steals mark in 1974. Brock begat Henderson, a thief of unprecedented ability and ambition, whose 1,406 stolen bases are about 50 percent more than any other player in history.

And Henderson begat an era in which his specialty is marginalized, in which the hitters are big and the ballparks are small and the home run is king, in which the idea of taking one base at a time seems hopelessly outdated.

"Everything is geared toward the home run, and I think that's something that was a conscious decision, not something that was done haphazardly," says Washington Nationals first-base coach Davey Lopes, a former Padres coach who stole 557 bases during a career that ended in 1987. "People feel that the home run is the most important thing going in baseball, as far as exciting the crowd. When you have that kind of philosophy, you look for nonathletic people. If you look up and down the rosters now, there are probably less athletic personnel than any other professional sport.

"Basically, you're looking at a boring game as far as I'm concerned."

A great run

Twenty years ago, there was almost one stolen base per game in the National League -- which has historically seen more running because of the absence of the designated hitter -- and 0.79 per game overall. The corresponding figures last season were 0.52 in the NL and 0.53 overall.

The last player to reach triple digits in steals was Cardinals speedster Vince Coleman in 1987 (109), the third of his three consecutive seasons over 100. Not since Montreal's Marquis Grissom in 1992 has a player swiped more than 75 bases. The high in the past five years is 70 by Milwaukee's Scott Podsednik in 2004.

Six times in the past 10 years the home-run champion in either league finished with a higher total than the stolen-base champion. That had happened only once in the prior two decades, in the NL during the strike-shortened season of 1994.

Those 20 homers Wills hit in his career? These days, some shortstops slug that many by the All-Star break.

"I think what's happened over the last 20 years or so is that there's been clearly a much greater emphasis on power than on any other aspect of the game," Padres CEO Sandy Alderson says. "So a different type of player is favored at every position, including positions where a quick infielder or center fielder would normally play. You're seeing guys who can drive the ball at those positions, and not necessarily guys who are a threat to steal bases."

As a young general manager for the Oakland Athletics in the 1980s, Alderson was a proponent of the Earl Weaver school of baseball. Weaver was the volatile manager who guided the Baltimore Orioles to four American League pennants and a World Series title from 1968-82. He was known for his profanity-laced tirades but more for his famous emphasis on "pitching and the three-run homer." He never saw the point of risking outs on the basepaths when he could sit back and wait for Frank Robinson or Boog Powell to clear the bases with one mighty swing.

A disciplined and studious ex-lawyer, Alderson couldn't have been more different than Weaver in personality. Like the manager, however, he was ahead of his time. He helped spawn a new age of statistical analysis that brought the phrase "Moneyball" into the cultural lexicon and fundamentally changed the way the game is played.

Crunch the numbers, Alderson says, and you'll find that the home run is more than simply a great entertainment product. It's also a formula for championship teams.

"It has a tremendous impact," he says. "I'll give you a stat: If Team A outhomers Team B, Team A wins two-thirds of the games. You don't even have to know anything else."

Similar analysis reveals that no correlation exists between stolen bases and winning, and that the value of the stolen base is minimal.

"The conventional wisdom is if you don't steal at least 80 percent of the bases, then you're better off not stealing," Alderson says. "That would be the statistical answer."

And that would explain why on the powerful, Alderson-directed Oakland clubs of the late 1980s and early 1990s -- clubs that stressed power over speed -- Henderson was given free reign to run. His lifetime success rate, after all, was 81 percent.

Current A's GM Billy Beane, Alderson's protege and the protagonist of the industry-shaking 2003 book "Moneyball," has taken aversion to the stolen base to new extremes. Beane has congratulated managers for finishing near the bottom of the league in steals; Oakland ranked last or second-to-last in the category each of the past five seasons.

"It's not exactly revolutionary," Beane has said. "If you're last in the league in steals, you're also last in the league in caught stealing, too, and you're saving yourself a lot of outs. If you break it down, which is more valuable: a potential out or one more base?"

Because the A's devalue stolen bases, they tend to look for commodities like power and plate discipline over speed when scouting and acquiring players. The result is a talent base that isn't proficient at running, which makes the team less likely to even attempt to run. It's a self-perpetuating cycle.

And it's a philosophy that has gradually taken root in the sport, as stat-oriented GMs run the show in an increasing number of franchises, including Boston (Theo Epstein), Toronto (Beane disciple J.P. Ricciardi) and Texas (28-year-old whiz kid Jon Daniels).

"They've come in and changed the whole way the game should be played," Lopes says. "That's mind-boggling to me. But that's the way it is today, so either you make an adjustment or you get out."

Numbers game

The Padres won't be confused with Whitey Herzog's steal-crazy Cardinals of the mid-80s, but they have evolved into a relatively dangerous running team, in part because offense is at a premium in Petco Park (until recently, but that's another story). They rank fourth in the league with 72 steals and, more important to general manager Kevin Towers, have converted 81 percent of their tries.

"I've always said if your success rate is 75 percent or better, then it's definitely going to help your club," Towers said. "If you're 75 percent or below, then you're giving away outs."

A strictly mathematical breakdown of the stolen base's impact infuriates old-school devotees, who contend that numbers don't tell the whole story.

They claim that merely the threat of the steal can wreak havoc on an opponent.

Put Padres fleet leadoff man Dave Roberts on first base, for example, and the pitcher might be more focused on the guy over his shoulder than the guy at the plate. The catcher might call for more hitter-friendly fastballs to give himself a better chance of throwing out the runner. The middle infielders might leave gaping holes for hits as they cheat toward the bag.

"(Henderson) made it like his own personal game," says Padres outfielder Eric Young, who's third on the active list with 464 stolen bases. "He was in the pitcher's head so much that when he made mistakes to the big boppers, before you know it, it's 3-0, 4-0. It's that constant speed that puts pressure on a team."

Adds Wills: "The harder they tried to get me, the more they messed up. The catcher would throw it into center field or the pitcher would balk."

Alderson believes that the intangible effect of the steal is overrated. Good pitchers, he says, combat speed by utilizing a slide step or, in some cases, ignoring the runner. Take Padres pitcher Chris Young, whose methodical delivery has contributed to 23 steals in 24 attempts against him but hasn't stopped him from fashioning an 8-4 record and 3.59 ERA.

"Obviously, that's an area of my game I need to improve," Young says. "But at no point am I ever going to let the running game affect the quality of my pitches. Looking at the cost benefit, it isn't worth it."

Stealing the momentum

Professional thieves also point out what they see as the stolen base's greater significance in the playoffs, when games are tighter and runs are more scarce. Two of the last three world champions featured a speedster atop the lineup (Juan Pierre of the Florida Marlins in 2003 and Podsednik of the Chicago White Sox last year), and the most memorable play of Boston's historic charge to a title in 2004 was Roberts' steal as a pinch-runner in Game 4 of the AL Championship Series against the Yankees.

"In a day when a lot of the talk is Moneyball," Roberts says, "I think that situation showed that without the stolen base, most likely we would have gone home after four games."

Roberts says he has noticed increased activity on the basepaths this season. Indeed, the numbers bear him out. NL games have witnessed an average of 0.58 steals, which is a 12 percent rise from last year and would be the highest total since 2002. In the AL, steals are up a modest 4 percent to 0.56.

Some believe that the spike could be a byproduct of the presumptive end of the steroid era, but the data is probably insufficient to draw conclusions.

Can the stolen base make a comeback?

"I think you'll see it if you see a greater emphasis on defense," Alderson says. "I really don't think stolen bases are going to drive clubs. You can argue that the same qualities you're looking for defensively are the kinds that would lead to more stolen bases, and that's basically speed. But the ballparks aren't going to get bigger than they are right now."

Let the parks stay small, Wills says. Let musclebound giants like David Ortiz and Ryan Howard continue to ooh and ahh the masses. Let chicks dig the long ball.

Just do an old man who revolutionized baseball one favor: Leave something for the little guys.

"You can't take anything away from the home run -- one swing of the bat and we got a run," Wills says. "But they didn't have to throw the stolen base away."

Contact staff writer Brian Hiro at b_hiro@hotmail.com.

Pro baseball: Running on empty

It doesn't take as much to be a stolen-base champ these days.

THEN

Year&nbspPlayer&nbspTeam&nbspNumber

1983&nbspRickey Henderson&nbspOakland&nbsp108

1984&nbspTim Raines&nbspMontreal&nbsp75

1985&nbspVince Coleman&nbspSt. Louis&nbsp110

1986&nbspColeman&nbspSt. Louis&nbsp107

1987&nbspColeman&nbspSt. Louis&nbsp109

NOW

Year&nbspPlayer&nbspTeam&nbspNumber

2001&nbspIchiro Suzuki&nbspSeattle&nbsp56

2002&nbspLuis Castillo&nbspFlorida&nbsp48

2003&nbspJuan Pierre&nbspFlorida&nbsp65

2004&nbspScott Podsednik&nbspMilwaukee&nbsp70

2005&nbspChone Figgins&nbspL.A. Angels&nbsp62

FIVE FAMOUS STEALS

Sept. 28, 1955: Robinson's dash for home

The Brooklyn Dodgers actually lost Game 1 of the 1955 World Series to the hated New York Yankees, but no one remembers that a half-century later. What they remember is the iconic image of Dodgers star Jackie Robinson breaking for home in the eighth inning -- he caught Yankees pitcher Whitey Ford napping -- and beating Yogi Berra's tag by an eyelash. Or did he? To this day, the debate rages. "He was out," Berra has said. "No question."

Sept. 23, 1962: Wills runs down the Georgia Peach

Ty Cobb's single-season record of 96 stolen bases had stood for 47 years when Maury Wills took aim at it in the summer of '62. Running at will during a season in which he would edge Willie Mays for the National League MVP award, the Dodgers' shortstop closed within one of Cobb by Sept. 22. That night, Wills learned from baseball writers that commissioner Ford Frick planned to place an asterisk next to the record -- as he had for Roger Maris' 61 home runs the year before -- unless Wills set the standard in the same number of games as Cobb played in 1915 (156). The next day, in the Dodgers' 156th game, Wills stole two bases against St. Louis. He finished with 104, a mark that was exceeded by Lou Brock 12 years later. "That was the only time that I had Cobb's record in mind," Wills said. "(Manager) Walter Alston said, 'Go out and break it, kid.' "

May 1, 1991: Rickey's the greatest

Nine years after Rickey Henderson broke Brock's record for steals in a season, Oakland's master thief pushed the Hall of Famer aside again. In a win over his old team, the New York Yankees, Henderson stole third base in the fourth inning. His 939rd career steal moved him past Brock for most all-time. Henderson uprooted the base and, with Brock looking on from the field, gave a speech in which he proclaimed -- in classic Rickey fashion -- "Lou Brock was a great base-stealer, but today I am the greatest!" Perhaps it was karma when, that night, Nolan Ryan threw his record seventh no-hitter, overshadowing Henderson's feat.

April 2, 1996: Cecil Fielder, speed demon?

Baseball historian-cum-poet laureate Bill James once wrote of the Detroit Tigers slugger: "Cecil Fielder acknowledges a weight of 261, leaving unanswered the question of what he might weigh if he put his other foot on the scale." Fielder, in less eloquent words, was fat -- which was why, entering 1996, he hadn't stolen a base at any level in 12 years. But on the second day of the season, Fielder took off from first base on a hit-and-run play in the ninth inning and reached safely when Greg Myers' throw kicked off the heel of Twins shortstop Pat Meares. The Metrodome crowd cheered wildly upon learning that it was Fielder's first steal in 1,096 major-league games, and the big man was given the bag as a memento. "The pressure is off now," Fielder joked, no doubt with a belly laugh.

Oct. 17, 2004: Mr. Roberts' wild ride

By 2054, Dave Roberts figures, his legend will have grown to truly mythic proportions.

"I'm going to keep getting faster every year," Roberts said. "As the years progress, it's going to be one of those things: Once there was this superfast guy. He was here and then he was gone."

Faster than a speeding bullet, Roberts sprinted into the beating heart of Red Sox Nation. A part of him will always be there.

His stolen base in Game 4 of the 2004 American League Championship Series was the most storied mad dash in New England since Paul Revere's ride.

The setup: Boston trailed the New York Yankees 4-3 and was three outs from suffering the humiliation of a four-game sweep at the hands of a loathed rival. Mariano Rivera, perhaps the most dominant closer in baseball history, was on the mound. After Kevin Millar led off the ninth inning with a walk, the Red Sox called on Roberts to pinch-run. A midseason acquisition from the Los Angeles Dodgers, Roberts hadn't left the bench in 10 days.

"It was pretty nerve-racking, but I tried to relax as much as possible," recalled Roberts, now the Padres' left fielder. "I had watched a lot of videotape, looking at (Rivera's) tendencies. I just tried to get a good jump. I was prepared for this moment my entire life."

Rivera threw over to first base three times, almost catching Roberts with the last toss, before Roberts took off for second and slid in safely just ahead of Jorge Posada's throw.

"Every time I watch it, I can't believe how close the play was," Roberts said. "As a base-stealer, I thought I was in there pretty easy, but as I look back it was a lot closer than I thought."

Bill Mueller followed with a single to score Roberts with the tying run, and the Red Sox went on to win the game in 12 innings, the ALCS in a stirring seven games, and the World Series for the first time in 86 years.

To this day, Roberts assigns the inspiration for his bold move to Maury Wills, the former Dodgers base-stealing great whom Roberts met when he was traded to Los Angeles in the winter of 2002. Wills was the club's baserunning instructor, Roberts his devoted pupil. They formed an instant connection that blossomed during Roberts' three years with the team.

"I prepared him for that situation," Wills said. "Not to steal a base when you're 10 runs ahead or when the pitcher's so rattled that he doesn't know what town he's in, but when the whole world is watching. He found himself in that spot. Everybody in the ballpark and everybody watching on TV knew that he was going to have to go right now."

Even though Roberts is now a valuable regular on a playoff contender, he's happy to go down in history for one gallant act of thievery.

"I don't know if I'll do anything that big in a baseball uniform for the rest of my life, with what was at stake and the way that changed the momentum of the series," he said. "If people in Boston are going to remember me forever for that stolen base, that's a positive. I'll never get tired of hearing that."

-- Brian Hiro

ANATOMY OF A STEAL

Step 1: Getting to first base

No one ever stole a base from the dugout. The best thieves are adept at drawing walks and slapping singles through the infield. Look no further than all-time king Rickey Henderson. During a career that spanned 25 seasons and more than 3,000 games, Henderson reached base 40 percent of the time, which offered a wealth of opportunities for him to accumulate a record 1,406 steals. A more recent example is the New York Mets' Jose Reyes, who has raised his on-base percentage more than 50 points to .351. It's no coincidence that the swift shortstop is on pace to swipe 68 bases, which would be the second-highest total in baseball since 1999.

Step 2: The lead

This ain't Little League, where runners keep one foot on the bag until contact is made. Good base-stealers realize that the farther off the base you venture, the more distance you cut off the 90 feet that must be traversed. Venture too far, of course, and you suffer the ignominy of the pickoff. "Your maximum lead is when you can dive back," said Padres outfielder Eric Young, who ranks third on the active list with 464 steals. "I try to get the same length (lead) so I don't give away when I'm going to go or not go. But some pitchers are quicker throwing to first, so you might take a shorter lead."

Step 3: The jump

The secret to a good jump lies in pregame preparation, which includes studying scouting reports on each pitcher's move and observing that move from the dugout. Runners must also be aware of the amount of time it takes the pitcher to throw home (1.3 to 1.4 seconds, on average) and the catcher to throw to second (good ones do it in 1.8 to 1.9 seconds), and whether the pitcher likes to slide-step to quicken his delivery. Then it comes down to spotting a pitcher's "key," which is a sign of whether he's throwing to the plate or to the base. "Keys can be anything -- the way (pitchers) stand, the way they lean, the way they step," Young said. "You look for any little thing before the actual leg kick. They have a pattern. It's a game within a game. The quicker you are at picking up the key, the quicker you get down there."

Step 4: The slide

Headfirst or feet-first? It's all a matter of comfort. Players like Henderson and Pete Rose made the headfirst slide popular, but leading with your feet is traditionally the preferred method. For one, it's safer. In recent seasons, Derek Jeter, Scott Rolen and Rafael Furcal have injured themselves sliding headfirst. Reyes, voted to start by the fans, missed the All-Star game this month after a player's spikes slashed his finger on a headfirst slide, necessitating seven stitches. The Houston Astros have gone so far as to ban the practice in their minor-league system. Plus, the widespread belief that sliding headfirst cuts down the time to the bag is unfounded, according to a 2000 study at the University of Kentucky.

-- Brian Hiro

A more recent example is the New York Mets' Jose Reyes, who has raised his

on-base percentage by more than 50 points to .351. It's no coincidence that

the swift shortstop is on pace to swipe 68 bases, which would be the

second-highest total in baseball since 1999.