Divine Intervention Is Just What Lasorda and Dodgers Need

It’s a hot Sunday morning and the vultures are circling Tom Lasorda’s worried head. The ballclub is sinking like a big blue rock, rumors are swirling about the death of the Dodger dynasty, and he’s got a rookie penciled in as his starting pitcher today, wearing Steve Howe’s old number.

So, sitting in his office, the first phone call Tom Lasorda makes is to a Catholic convent.

As he often does in times of stress, Lasorda has sought solace in his mailbag, and the first letter he opens is from a nun in San Gabriel. She wants to know if Tommy can get her a Pete Rose bat when the Reds come to town.

“I’ll give her a call, invite her out to a game,” Lasorda says, picking up the tan phone on his desk.

What is this, the David Letterman show?

Lasorda reaches the convent. The nun isn’t in. But now he’s in a religious frame of mind. He tells a story about the time he arranged front-row seats for seven nuns at a Frank Sinatra concert.

Sinatra invites the Sisters backstage and all they want to talk about is Lasorda.

A phone rings. Lasorda picks up the tan phone and says hello. It’s the wrong phone. He picks up the black phone. Bingo. He used to have a red phone, too, but that got too confusing. A friend on the line wants tickets to today’s game. No problem.

On Lasorda’s big-screen television, the Rams are playing the Broncos. He’s chatting away and appears to be oblivious to the game.

Someone leans into the office doorway and asks the score.

“Thirteen-seven, Rams, if they make this kick,” Lasorda says without looking up.

He holds up another letter.

“The Navy wants me to speak,” he says. “I think I should do it. I did the West Point football banquet. I’ve done all the Air Force bases.”

No sense getting the Navy ticked off by playing favorites. Never know when they can help you. But why not just book himself at the Pentagon for a week and make everyone happy?

Lasorda gets back to the subject of religion. He tells of the priest who wrote him an angry letter about the way he gets on umpires. He tells a story about the president of a local Catholic university who hated the Dodgers.

I won’t give away the stories, but the punch line in both is that Lasorda sets the padre straight, and they wind up best pals of his and fervent fans.

He tells about the priest in Scottsdale who, the week after meeting Lasorda, walked up the aisle to the altar wearing a Dodger jacket.

He tells of another priest who redesigned his parish’s vestments in Dodger blue.

Will Tommy get a chance to see the Pope when he comes to Dodger Stadium next month?

“I sent him a Dodger press guide,” Lasorda says.

His small audience waits for the punch line. There is none. Lasorda actually mailed a Dodger press guide to the Vatican. Tommy figured the Holy Father would want to keep tabs on the Dodgers. Doesn’t everybody?

Switching religious topics, Lasorda flashes back to baseball memories.

“When I was a kid, I’d go to bed every night and dream about pitching in Yankee Stadium,” he says. “When I got in the big leagues, the first time I took that walk, from the bullpen to the mound in Yankee Stadium, I’m crying. (Dodger manager Walt) Alston hands me the ball, I’ve got tears in my eyes. He says, ‘What’s wrong with you ?’ ”

Lasorda gets Yogi Berra on a comebacker.

The next letter Tommy opens compliments him on his brief stint as Dodger third-base coach last month. With Lasorda working the hot corner, the Dodgers went 4-1.

He reads aloud. “ ‘Your performance reminded me a bit of Jackie Gleason.’ ”

Lasorda seems to regard this as a fine compliment, which is probably the way it was intended. This is Hollywood.

All the talk about religion seems to have buoyed the skipper’s spirits. Sitting in Lasorda’s office/photo gallery/ snack-and-souvenir shop, I can see it now, what’s going to happen. The rookie pitcher with the jinx uniform number will turn out to be a great find. The Dodger fielders, having reached their season quota of bungles, will become gold glovers, reviving the ancient art of the double play.

The Dodgers will claw their way up the standings. On September 16, the Pope visits Dodger Stadium. He’s wearing a Dodger warm-up jacket. As Air Force jets fly in formation, the Pope announces he’ll be coaching third base for the rest of the season. Frank Sinatra will coach first base.

The Dodgers win the division on the last day of the season when rookie pinch-hitter Napoleon McCallum hits a long drive toward the bleachers. It falls into the seats when a Padre outfielder loses a wrestling match to a fan in the front row, a nun from San Gabriel.