ONE EYE has scorched a hole in the video monitor looking for flaws in what was supposed to be the sweetest swing in the organization. The other cornea has been pierced by therays coming out of the tube.

Every day Ricky Ledee is a slave to the video tape machine. After nine years in the minor leagues trying to fulfill the dream of his late father Antonio, after a sterling World Series, after making the Yankees in spring training, Ledee is trying to figure out why his first chance for regular work in the big leagues is crumbling.

“They have given me every opportunity” the likeable 25-year-old left-handed hitting outfielder says.

While GM Brian Cashman says Ledee’s roster spot is secure, tomorrow is never guaranteed in the Yankee universe. Ask David Wells about that. Shane Spencer was sent to Columbus to knock the rust off his bat. When that job is complete, Spencer will be brought back and given the chance Ledee hasn’t taken advantage of.

Now, after years of hearing his name linked to trade rumors involving stars Randy Johnson, Roger Clemens and Chuck Knoblauch, Ledee tries to find a reason why things haven’t clicked. Sensitive and quiet, Ledee listens to advice from Bernie Williams, Chili Davis, Tino Martinez, Paul O’Neill and Luis Sojo as his troubles eat at him.

“Yes,” Ledee says when asked if his .182 average has carried over to his defense. “It kills me. Now that I am not hitting, I have to play defense, and I haven’t done it.”

The words of encouragement flow from the wise old heads who have been in the same space Ledee is currently trying to abandon. Anxious not to fall behind in the count, they have chased off-speed pitches out of the strike zone only to become defensive and take a middle-of-the-plate fastball. They know the more you fight it, the worse it gets.

Ledee acknowledges the advice, but that doesn’t make it any easier to grasp why the sweet swing has turned sour at the most important time of his career.

“They feel the same way because they went through the same things when they were young,” Ledee said before playing the hero with a game-winning single in Thursday’s 4-3 win over the Twins. “But it’s hard to accept.”

So Ledee turns to the video machine where he sees himself playing right into a pitcher’s hands by not trusting his hands one time or his swing the next. There has been talk that since Ledee kicks his right leg to jump-start his swing, that his problems are the result of poor timing. But then how do you explain chasing pitches he can’t hit?

“If things aren’t working, you have to keep going at it,” Ledee says of the video work. “It’s the only way to see what you are doing at the plate.”

Antonio Ledee never saw Ricky wear a professional uniform, dying in a car wreck when his son was 12. Yet, it was Antonio’s dream that Ricky play the game the father loved. Now, the chance of a lifetime is slipping away.

“That’s the way you see it,” Ledee said. “I spent a long time down there. Now I have a big opportunity and I haven’t been able to get on board. When I was down there, it was development. Here, it’s time to contribute. Down there, it doesn’t matter if you go 0-for-5 because you are developing and the next game you know you are going to play. Here, I know I have to do something to stick around.”

Williams, who remembers the cold treatment he received from crusty veterans Mel Hall, Steve Sax, Jesse Barfield and Roberto Kelley when he was a young player, has made sure Ledee has somebody to talk to.

“You can tell by his face that he is not enjoying his time,” said Williams, who calls himself an expert on struggling because he did a lot of it when he was Ledee’s age. “There aren’t too many things you can tell him. Sometimes it gets stale when people tell you, ‘You are going to be all right.’ You listen to that and you say, ‘Yeah, but when?’ I think it’s a matter of picking the right time and letting him know that he can count on us when he has a question. Players aren’t prone to getting help unless they want to get help. So for the most part, you have to let people know you are available to them.”

And what’s Williams best piece of advice?

“When the results aren’t what they are expecting, maybe sometimes you have to mention that their approach is the correct one because in this game, when it rains it pours,” Williams explains. “I have gone through so many struggling times that I am an expert on struggling. The one thing I learned about it is that you have to have enough confidence in your ability to play the game.

“Sooner or later you are going to get out of it. Second of all, you should never stop working hard because when you get out of it, you are going to come out of it even stronger because of the fact that you kept working.”

Since he understands the environment Ledee is trying to survive in, he sympathizes with his fellow native of Puerto Rico.

“I would be pressing, too,” Williams admits. “Especially in this kind of job where it’s what have you done for me lately? There becomes a priority to do well early and often. And when that doesn’t happen you press. It’s easy to say that I am going to be all right. But what it boils down to is, ‘When am I going to get out of this?’ For a young player, that’s the hardest part.”

Davis’ advice to Ledee has been to enjoy even the tiniest chunk of success.

“I told him when he has a good swing in batting practice to feel good about it and enjoy it instead of not trusting it,” said Davis, who recalled a miserable 1983 when he was a second-year player with the Giants. “He has to feel good about it and like it.”

In the meantime, Ledee stares at the monitor and wonders if he has missed the biggest opportunity of his life.