Well-Traveled Road Leads Zimmer Back to L.A. as Manager of the Cubs

Donald W. Zimmer, he of the skull round and smooth as if manufactured by Spalding, and he of the cheeks and squint as if sired by Popeye, just finished paying a visit to Los Angeles, 30 years after coming here as one of the City of Angels’ original Dodgers. Welcome back, Zim.

Everybody else remembers Duke Snider or Don Drysdale or Gil Hodges or Carl Furillo, but the guy who played 127 games and whacked 17 home runs for the 1958 Dodgers was Zimmer, who for some reason has become a forgotten man of L.A. lore.

Maybe it is because he only spent a couple of seasons here that Zimmer isn’t better remembered. He was traded to the Chicago Cubs in 1960 for pitcher Ron Perranoski and a couple of other guys and 25 grand, but was traded back to the Dodgers three years later for pitcher Scott Breeden. This time he got only 23 at-bats, one of which ended with a home run.

Zim came back the other day as manager of the on-the-move Cubs, one of the most promising clubs (perennially) in baseball. Perranoski was in the park, too, as pitching coach of the Dodgers, and of course Dodger Manager Tom Lasorda was around as well, cuffing Zimmer affectionately around the neck and standing there, side by side, like a couple of pandas on furlough from the zoo.

Zimmer is back in the managing saddle again, for the first time in six years. He is a baseball lifer who has been with more employers than a handyman. He played for Brooklyn and Los Angeles and the Cubs and Mets and Washington Senators. He played minor league ball in the Eastern Shore League in 1949, and was back playing in the International League 18 years later. He has managed San Diego, Boston and Texas and coached with Montreal, San Francisco, San Diego, Boston, the Cubs and the Yankees. Forty pro seasons. Thirty-eight, if you don’t count Texas.

Zimmer was reminded of Texas last Friday night, after a managerial move he made against the Dodgers. As strategy goes, it seemed pretty weird when he did it, but Zim never blinked. Shook his head and said he’d seen it a million times.

The Cub pitcher had a full count on a Dodger hitter--and Zimmer took him out. The pitcher wasn’t hurt, wasn’t wild, didn’t even look particularly tired. Zim simply had a whim.

Lester Lancaster came in to face Mike Marshall, and buzzed a called third strike right by him.

“It was just a gut feeling,” said Zimmer, whose gut is certainly large enough to contain many. “It’s not all that unusual yanking the pitcher with a 3-2 count, believe me. I was gonna do it at 2-2, but I thought I’d leave him in for one more.”

Next thing you know, Zim will replace a pitcher during an intentional walk.

“In Texas one night, I took out a pitcher with a 3-0 count and the bases loaded,” he said. “It was that tall guy, what’s his name, the guy who was going to be the next great relief pitcher.”

Jim Kern?

“Yeah, Kern. He went 3-0 on somebody, and I went out there and got him. I brought in Steve Comer. Remember Comer? The curveball guy. Anyway, Comer comes in. Strike one. Strike two. He’s got the guy, easy. Then the guy hits a little squib to the first baseman, and the first baseman boots it, and we lose.”

Some might say Zimmer makes strange moves because he has creative ideas inside his head. Others might say Zim makes strange moves because he has a steel plate in his head, the price he paid for a serious baseball injury.

Whatever, his hunches keep everybody hopping.

During one game with the Mets earlier this season, Manny Trillo was at bat for the Cubs with the bases full and less than two outs. What strategy did Zimmer call? Suicide squeeze? Nope. Suicide hit-and-run. That’s right, the Cubs had Trillo swinging with the bases loaded, and sent the runners. Trillo swung and missed, and the guy barreling home from third was a fatally injured duck.

Still, Zimmer’s presence has coincided with a Cub resurgence. The decision to go with good-looking kids such as Rafael Palmeiro, Mark Grace and Dave Martinez and get rid of vets such as Lee Smith, Keith Moreland and Leon Durham has been a boon to the Cubbies, whose challenge to the New York Mets and Pittsburgh Pirates in the National League East has been a surprise-and-a-half.

“The same people who came up to me in the spring and said we didn’t have a chance are coming up to me now wondering when we’re going to catch the Mets,” Zimmer said.

They also are coming up to him for something else. Or calling. What they want is a ticket to the Aug. 8 extravaganza against the Philadelphia Phillies--Wrigley Field’s first night game. Zimmer finally had to put a message on his telephone answering machine at home, one that said: Hi, I’m not home right now, and I don’t have tickets to the first night game.

Asked if he were looking forward to it or dreading it, the Cub manager said: “Oh, I can’t wait. I’m going to walk to the game that day, and just stroll along and take my time getting there.”

Walk to the game?

“Sure,” Zim said. “I can see the ballpark from my apartment, you know. I’m like one of those people who watch from their roofs. My place is over on Irving Park, and it’s high enough that I can look out the window and see the right side of the infield. I’m almost a bleacher bum.”

Thirty years earlier, Zimmer was playing baseball in the 90,000-seat Coliseum, which has about as much in common with Wrigley Field as the Parthenon does with a Pizza Hut. After four seasons in Brooklyn, Zim moved west with the ballclub, and played four positions in the Dodgers’ first year here, mostly shortstop. Pee Wee Reese was turning 40, so L.A. went with the 27-year-old Cincinnati kid.

Zimmer and Charlie Neal formed a heck of a double-play combination, and Zim had his best year at the plate. He hit .262, with the 17 dingers. Never mind the 26 errors. Zim was a Dodger, true and blue. He always will be, even if he beats them now and then.