Nearly a quarter-century ago, I watched him play baseball for Plant High School. I followed him through those years in the minor leagues, then with Boston and the Yankees, through five batting titles.

I sat nearby at his mother's funeral. I watched his tears flow in the dugout at the end of the 1986 World Series. I listened as he bragged on his children.

I thought I knew him.

But watching him play the last year-and-a-half with the Devil Rays has been like meeting him all over again.

Television or drab columns of statistics fail to provide the total picture on this guy. That doesn't show you the dirt on his uniform, the sweat- drenched forehead, or the eyes that see through the ball and into the pitcher's mind.

Just like before.

I first became acquainted with Wade covering prep sports here. He was playing baseball for Plant High in south Tampa and he was on some unbelievable roll.

Legend and the Plant scorebooks have it that in his final 32 at-bats as a high school player, Wade had 26 hits.

I REMEMBER IT vividly because he was the first player I knew - just knew - was going to the major leagues.

I had simply never seen any one who wanted to play baseball more than Wade. That, plus the fact he seemed to hit everything pitched to him, made Wade a cinch to make the big-time.

This was not a universally held opinion, but as everyone came to learn, you can go broke betting against Wade Boggs.

If God ever made a baseball player, he used Wade as the blueprint.

Yes, Wade had limited range and little power. As he noted wryly one day, as he got older, the fields seemed to get bigger and his hits didn't fly as far. But I've never seen anyone with Wade's determination to succeed, or anyone who knew himself better.

Maybe he didn't hit home runs, but he could hit singles and doubles. And when fans in Boston decided that wasn't enough and demanded he hit home runs, Wade stayed focused better than anyone could and kept doing what he did best.

In fact, the only time Wade really got mad at me was for writing once that he needed to leave the Red Sox.

Although every circumstance shouted it was time for him to find another team, Wade was determined to finish his career in Boston. We didn't speak for almost a year over that flap.

I'M GLAD THOSE days are over. Wade remains the most fascinating person I have ever covered.

He never ducks the media. He is never shy with a quote. If there's a controversy, he doesn't scream he was misquoted. He doesn't hide in the trainer's room.

And don't ask him a question unless you want the answer. Better bring a tape recorder, too; his answer might be a little involved for simple note- taking.

Will Wade quit, now that he has reached 3,000 hits?

Not easily, I suspect. If the Rays don't re-sign him - and it's highly likely they won't - he'll probably cast about for another team. Someone might sign him. When he quits, he will want it to be on his own terms.

For his sake, I hope that happens.

Then I hope he comes back to do radio or TV with the Rays. He will be terrific in the booth, and it will be a good way to pass the time while we all wait for Cooperstown to call.

And Cooperstown will call.

We will celebrate on that day and toast a hometown kid. Maybe we thought we knew him before, but watching the way he played the last two years has convinced me.

Seeing Wade is believing.

Joe Henderson has written about Wade Boggs for The Tampa Tribune throughout Boggs' high school and pro career.