Chalk Up Another One for Good Old Yankee Ingenuity

Tuesday night’s baseball All-Star game has left me depressed.

I wasn’t expecting a wild, action-packed game, because they hardly ever are. The highlight of every All-Star telecast is the introduction of the players. Batting practice is almost always livelier than the game.

What ruined the event for me was picking up the papers the next day and seeing who won the game--George Steinbrenner.

Big George, Yankee owner, the Sultan of Slander, hitting with power to all fields, had put the big knock on three of his Yankee players.

Steinbrenner wasn’t even in Cincinnati for the game. From a bunker in New York or Florida, George lashed out through the New York press at Dave Winfield, Don Mattingly and Rickey Henderson.

Steinbrenner’s quotes, and the reaction of his players, dominated Wednesday’s newspaper coverage of Tuesday’s game.

Why did this bother me? Because I’m jealous. I have Steinbrenner envy.

As a native of the Los Angeles area, I have never experienced the slightest twinge of inferiority to citizens of New York. It’s a fabulous city, but it really has gone downhill since the Algonquin tribe sub-leased it to English settlers.

But New York does have one major cultural advantage over Los Angeles--George Steinbrenner.

New York baseball fans have more fun than any fans in baseball, because they have George. They are the most united fans in baseball, because they are united against George. As are the Yankee players. New York sportswriters never have to search for a story angle when George is on a roll. All they have to do is get out their notepads and roll up their sleeves.

And their pants cuffs.

In Los Angeles, we have nothing to compare to the Bambino of Bombast.

Peter O’Malley? When it comes to creating a public nuisance, the Dodger owner can’t carry Steinbrenner’s jock. Peter simply can’t grasp the time-honored concept of firing a manager to create a trumped-up news event. And when was the last time you saw a headline: “O’Malley Calls Dodgers ‘Pack of Sniveling Wimps’ ”? Not recently.

Gene Autry? To his credit, Gene occasionally gets in a good rip. He’ll whine about the Angels being overpaid and underproductive. But you sense that Autry’s heart isn’t in it. He’s such a harmless galoot, he comes off like a kindly old next-door-neighbor complaining about the noisy rubbish collectors.

Jerry Buss? What’s for him to complain about? His players win everything every year, and never from him is heard a discouraging word. But put Steinbrenner in charge of the Lakers for one week and he would stir the stew. He would fire Pat Riley, hire Paul Westhead and call Magic Johnson an overrated hotdog.

Georgia Frontiere? She last granted media interviews in about 1942. And she’s sitting on a gold mine. What would Steinbrenner have done with an Eric Dickerson situation? Or a Dieter Brock? Say, George, what was your opinion of John Robinson’s play selection on that third-and-two play? It makes me weep to think of all that raw material going to waste.

Al Davis? A true eccentric, but Al’s criticisms of coaches and players are too subtle or confidential to make decent headlines. Davis paid Marc Wilson $1 million a year, and for all we know, Al considered it a bargain.

Los Angeles owners: Not a blustering buffoon in the bunch.

Steinbrenner’s motto is Never a Dull Newspaper, Never a Calm Clubhouse. Or: Commitment to Chaos. Or: No Superstar Too Big to Belittle.

Exuding the charm of a subway mugger, George does so much with so little. In his pre-All-Star game rips, Steinbrenner blasted Dave Winfield for wasting time and energy autographing his autobiography. “He shouldn’t do any more endorsements or book signings,” Steinbrenner said.

Book signings! Babe Ruth is said to have gone through houses of ill repute like a hurricane through a trailer park. Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford are said to have proudly poured themselves into the beer-drinker’s hall of fame. All that stuff went down quietly.

Yet Winfield finds himself skewered in bold national headlines for sitting in a bookstore, chatting with old ladies while he scribbles his name. You’d think the guy was moonlighting as a lumberjack.

And is that Winfield book a sweet piece of irony, or what? It is selling like classic literature because in it Winfield takes a few zings at Steinbrenner, who then generously promotes the book by railing at Winfield for writing it and autographing it.

What next? A Steinbrenner book rebutting the Winfield book? With a forward by Dave Winfield?

George calls Mattingly, one of the great Yankees, “awful.” Then Steinbrenner criticizes his three All-Stars for attending the All-Star game. Says they should have stayed home and rested.

Holy Toledo! What would Steinbrenner do with a Wade Boggs scenario on the Yankees?

Meanwhile, here in Los Angeles we’re like the nerd who got shut out of the party. The Dodgers are in first place, but haven’t had a clubhouse fight in months.

The Angels are on a hot streak, but for all the noise Gene Autry is making, he might as well be sitting on a bench in Elysian Park with O’Malley, feeding the pigeons.

We have to get our excitement second-hand, from New York. Some cities get all the luck.