Analysis : Will Rader’s Eccentricity Generate Any Electricity?

If it had still been raining Monday, lightning might have struck the roof of an Anaheim hotel when Doug Rader told a table of sportswriters that he is not now, and has never been, a flake, baseball jargon for weird, eccentric or, as a Times headline once described the man who claims he has never been a flake:

“King of the Cuckoos.”

The Angels had just announced that Rader would be their 13th manager in 29 years. None of the previous 12 (counting two Gene Mauch terms) had ever been known to slip dirty baseballs into the clubhouse soup tureen or sit, nude, on a teammate’s birthday cake or to switch the mouthwash with after-shave in the shower room or to jog into the lobby of a crowded Boston hotel on the eve of the Boston Marathon, light a cigarette, begin doing pushups and wheeze, “Got to get ready for the big one.”

None of the previous 12 were ever quoted as saying he should have been a Tahitian war lord or a pirate in the Errol Flynn mold, or that he never does anything to alter his physiological makeup because he is “running too damn perfect on 82% body fat.”

Nor did any of the previous 12 ever buy an ice cream sandwich at an Atlanta theater, carefully unwrap it in front of a long line, throw the ice cream away, eat the wrapper and then, on his way to a seat, feign a heart attack and roll down the stairs.

Maybe, at 44, Doug Rader has simply suffered a memory lapse. Maybe he has forgotten all of that and so much more. Maybe it’s a matter of convenience, a desire to erase an image that might not have done justice to the man and delayed his second opportunity to manage in the majors.

“I’ve never been a flake,” he said Monday. “I had good times and did a lot of silly things that were meant to stay behind clubhouse doors. I did what everyone else did, and none of it might have come out if Jim Bouton hadn’t written about it in his book (“Ball Four”).

Bouton is not alone. Many have written about it, often portraying Rader’s eccentricity as an outlet for the demons of a restless intellect and relentless energy.

The Angels are banking on the energy, the intellect and even some of the eccentricity to serve one purpose at least. They are counting on Rader to change the clubhouse atmosphere, hoping he can generate electricity where only the clubhouse stereo did before.

In the final weeks of a 75-87 season, many of the players were dressed and gone before reporters’ 5-minute postgame lockouts were over. A kangaroo court provided fun for a while, but even the kangaroo lost its bounce at the end.

Executive Vice President Mike Port acknowledged Monday that he wasn’t happy with the atmosphere and expects it to change.

Said Rader, the abdicated king of the cuckoos: “I don’t want to deal in misery. To me, it’s self-defeating not to have a good time. This is the big leagues, as good as it’s going to get, and it should be enjoyable. But it has to be done responsibly.”

And does he believe that part of his hiring was based on the belief that he can provide an emotional jolt?

“I’d like to think so, and that the educational process I went through in Texas will allow me to be more effective at it,” he said.

With makeshift pitching and a lineup of suspect veterans, the Texas Rangers went 155-200 in Rader’s 2-plus seasons at the helm. His long-rumored firing occurred early in 1985. The feelings, he said Monday, were relief, frustration, embarrassment and guilt for having failed to do the job.

Was he concerned that he might not get another?

“I think that would cross anybody’s mind, but I’ve at least had time to back away and look at what went on in Texas objectively,” he said. “I made some mistakes and learned some lessons.”

He once learned them as a psychology student at Illinois Wesleyan University in Bloomington, Ill., where he considered a career in medicine. He can still discuss blood counts and cartilage tears.

At Texas, Rader said, he was too impatient when players failed to perform to a level he expected. He added that he did a poor job of dealing with problems on a one-to-one basis and that he consistently failed to recognize and cope with the context in which media and fan criticism was delivered. He avoided talk shows and had a stormy relationship with writers who regularly covered the club.

Two incidents:

--Leaving the field to boos after bringing in a relief pitcher to replace a tired Mike Mason, Rader screamed at hooting fans behind the dugout, “He was gassed, you . . . “

--Disturbed by a writer’s question regarding a beanball incident, Rader threw his spikes and flung his clothes from a rack near his desk, the trousers coming down on the head of Jim Reeves of the Ft. Worth Star-Telegram.

“It always puzzled me that a man as intelligent as Doug is could have been so paranoid about the media, could have mishandled it as badly as he did,” a former Ranger writer said Monday.

“He can be a good leader, a very charismatic person, but he was out of control too often. He had too much of a problem with his temper. Maybe he will have changed. I hope so for the guys who have to cover him every day.”

That Rader made his mistakes at another time and place, that he has had experience at the major league level and is expected to have learned from it, realizing that the intensity and aggressiveness he displayed as a third baseman has to be tempered now, was significant to the Angels, who were clearly left with a bad taste when the Cookie crumbled last season.

“Candidly, we did not feel ready to run the gantlet again with somebody who hadn’t managed at the major league level,” vice president Port said, looking back at the 1988 experience with Cookie Rojas.

Owner Gene Autry may have looked back even further. He has given seven men--Lefty Phillips, Del Rice, Bobby Winkles, Norm Sherry, Dave Garcia, Jim Fregosi and Rojas--chances to manage for the first time in the majors, and only Fregosi, who won a division title in 1979, enjoyed any success.

The experience with Rojas and others permeated the Angels’ selection process and resulted in the elimination of Jim Lefebvre, who many consider the brightest managerial prospect in baseball and who, when spurned by the Angels, signed a 2-year contract with the Seattle Mariners.

Fresh, combative and proven at the triple-A level, Lefebvre would have represented a solid gamble in the mold of the Cincinnati Reds giving Sparky Anderson his first chance or the Dodgers elevating Tom Lasorda to replace Walt Alston, but the Angels apparently retreated to a choice from among the recycled Fregosi, Rader and Pat Corrales.

Was it really the safer route? Will there be fewer mistakes? How soon will they be looking for their 14th manager?

Only time will tell, of course.

In the meantime, manager No. 13 should at least prove interesting. After all, did any of the previous 12 fire slap shots at teammates with a hockey stick he kept in his locker and a roll of tape for a puck, or revel in the nickname Foghorn Leghorn because he looks like the cartoon chicken, or say of his fondness for Ernest Hemingway that he is planning to fight a bull or blow up a bridge or purposely drive his motorcycle into a brick wall or . . . ?