Time for Port to Give Angels Some Answers

This just in . . .

General Manager Mike Port and his thesaurus have been kidnaped by angry Angel fans. They demand the following: 1) An explanation why Port let Angel keepsake Bob Boone become a Kansas City Royal.

2) An explanation why the Angels tied for last place in the AL West standings in 1987 and finished 29 games behind the Oakland Athletics in 1988.

3) An explanation why the A’s could sign pitcher Mike Moore, but the Angels couldn’t.

4) An interpreter; the kidnapers can’t understand a word Port is saying.

As negotiators work around the clock (if you don’t include movie breaks, food breaks and at least 10 hours’ worth of sleep a night) to secure Port’s release, I have volunteered to take his place at next week’s winter meetings in Atlanta. It is my duty. The future of the Angels is at stake.

First things first. Get me reservations; I want to upgrade to first class. No wonder Port was always cranky. I’d be cranky too if I rode coach to save a few bucks.

Next, I’m ditching Port’s vocabulary. Too many rhetorical questions. Too many, well, words and not enough action. After all, this is baseball, not an interview for a Supreme Court clerkship. From now on, no more, “Of said action pursuant to relief of the Angels, I must unequivocally deny the existence of said criticism.”

Blah, blah, blah. Save it for the law review, Mike.

OK, so I’m on the plane, sitting in my oversized first-class seat and thinking about winter meetings strategy.

“What would Port do in this situation?” I wonder. I say this because whatever the strategy is, I want to do the opposite.

History shows us that Port looks for thrifty deals. He wants the most for the very least. Normally, an admirable goal.

But the Angels aren’t exactly dealing from a position of strength these days. Their best pitcher won just 13 games last season. Their best reliever, a rookie, had 17 saves. Only one Angel batted .300 or better. No Angel had more than 25 home runs. No Angel had 100 runs batted in.

As you can tell, I have some work to do when I arrive at the winter meetings hotel.

As I see it, image is the big problem. Port has a reputation for pinching the copper out of pennies. As acting general manager, I need to convey a new philosophy, one of compromise and an understanding of market value. So I buy the flashiest, gaudiest money clip I can find, stuff a wad of bills into it so thick that the metal begins to groan. Then I start “accidentally” dropping it at the feet of other general managers or player agents in the hotel lobby. That should cause a murmur.

General manager No. 1: “Hey, Larry, get a load of the new Angel guy. There must be a half-mil crammed into that clip of his.”

General manager No. 2: “Yeah, looks like they’re finally ready to deal. Let’s go talk to him.”

See? Easy.

According to my Angel shopping list, the team needs a power-hitting outfielder, starting pitching and another infielder, what with second baseman Mark McLemore scheduled for elbow surgery next week. And since Port botched the Boone deal, the Angels also need a backup catcher, too.

About this whole Boone mess. First of all, as Port’s replacement, I’d like to apologize on behalf of big Mike for all the trouble he caused. He’s stubborn that way and sometimes he gets too involved in this power posturing thing. Boone still should be an Angel today, an Angel tomorrow, an Angel forever.

As for Port’s lame excuse about Boone not calling him--pleeeeeaaassseee. Since when is the player supposed to phone the general manager about making a deal? Since when has Port ever gone out of his way to expedite the negotiating process? Not often.

He didn’t with Wally Joyner. Or Kirk McCaskill. Or Boone. And all he has to show for it is a bitter, disgruntled Joyner, a wary McCaskill and an empty locker in the corner of the Angel clubhouse.

As interim general manager, I immediately try to mend fences. I do so by blaming Port for ignoring human nature and pride. Boone didn’t want money as much as he wanted respect. For whatever reason, Port didn’t understand that. Now he’s down one Hall of Fame catcher.

I also arrange a meeting between Port (when we negotiate his release) and owner Gene Autry. It seems what we have here is a failure to communicate. Again, Port’s fault.

There is hope, of course. But it will take money. Lots and lots of money, as well as a re-thinking of Angel front-office policy.

For instance, Red Sox starter Bruce Hurst might be the better pitcher, but he’s no Nolan Ryan. What Ryan lacks in youth, he makes up in public relations value, leadership and marquee appeal. Also, I don’t think Ryan would place himself on the market unless he thought he could deliver another year or two worth of performance. The man has pride.

So here’s what you say to Ryan’s agent, Dick Moss:

“You want money, we got money. Nolan can move Alvin, Texas, out here with all the money we plan on paying him. Now just sign on that dotted line.”

With that done, you focus on Hurst.

“Bruce, baby--the Padres? C’mon. Their uniforms look like Burger King issued them. And you’ll love playing for the Texas Rangers, especially in the summer. By the way, Bruce, ever been on the face of the sun? As for the Red Sox, the less said the better.

“One other thing, Bruce. Whatever any of those clubs have offered, we’ll match it and then beat it. How’s that? Now just sign on that dotted line.”

Next, I sign designated hitter Brian Downing. And fast, before he does the same thing Boone just did. Without Downing, you might as well reserve a sixth or seventh place in the standings.

One other thing: a power-hitting outfielder. About the only player the Angels have worth such a piece of merchandise is shortstop Dick Schofield. Sadly, I shop him around. With Gus Polidor in reserve, I can afford the trade. Barely.

This just in. . .

Port is released by kidnapers. Resumes duties as general manager.

But for how long? How many more mistakes can Port make before his job is in jeopardy?

Being a former general manager myself, I see Port with two choices:

He can change, adapt, communicate and be a better baseball man because of it.

Or he can start updating his resume.