Like the Yankees' slugger, Mays, the terror of the Giants, has had seasons that would be considered the ultimate by most players, but not by -- or for -- Willie. His best years were 1954 when he hit.345 with 41 homers and'55 when he belted 51 home runs, drove in 127 and stole 24 bases.

Now, apparently happier under new managers, Mays and Mantle, the perfect players, are behaving as though they're going to pass those previous peaks.

Yes, we know, they're professionals, men paid to play, and they shouldn't care how they're handled, just as long as their names are spelled correctly on the first and fifteenth of each month.

The truth is, though, that men react differently to different treatment. For that matter, Stan Musial is rare, possessing the disposition that enabled him to put out the same for seven managers, reserving his opinions, but not his effort.

Mantle, it's apparent, resented Casey Stengel's attempts to push and prod him into the perfection the veteran manager saw as a thrilling possibility. The old man was almost too possessive. Stengel inherited DiMaggio, Rizzuto, but he brought up Mantle from Class C to the majors, from Joplin to New York.

With the speed and power of the body beautiful he saw before him, Ol ' Case wanted No. 7 to be not only the best homerun hitter, but also the best bunter, base-runner and outfielder. Stengel probably preached too much in the early days when the kid wanted to pop his bubble gum and sow his oats.