Ear This: Dodgers, Angels Think Small

Tom Lasorda once told me that everything I know about baseball could fit in a gnat’s ear. He didn’t actually say ear, but you get the idea.

Since Lasorda probably isn’t aware of the information-storage wonders of microfilm, I assumed his comment was meant as an insult.

“That may be,” I should have said in my defense, “but that gnat would have itself a serious hearing (or something) problem.”

Now I’m not so sure that would be the case. Now I think Lasorda was right.

In recent days the Dodgers and Angels made moves that left me baffled. Now I think that a gnat could take everything I know about baseball, roll it up real tight and use it as a toothpick.

From decades of listening to baseball players and managers, through the media and in person, one thing I thought I knew for sure was this: A baseball team, in order to be successful, has to have heart and leadership and character.

You can have great hitting and great pitching up the ear and it won’t mean a thing if you don’t have some clubhouse leaders, guys who gave your team experience and spark and life.

Kirk Gibson was voted National League MVP largely on the basis of these intangibles. When you hear baseball’s greatest minds hammering that same theme year after year, you begin to believe.

Now I realize I was wrong to believe. They were just kidding.

First Lasorda’s Dodgers got rid of Steve Sax. Sax is one of those heart-leadership-spirit players, with the kind of plucky attitude that supposedly inspired the Dodgers to pull off their miracle World Series championship.

Plus, he can hit pretty well. When Sax told the Dodger brass he thought he could get more money from another team, the brass yawned in Sax’s face, studied its fingernails carefully and reminded Sax to pick up his glove on the way out.

I still think Sax made a huge mistake in taking that aloof negotiating strategy seriously, using it as a rationale for jumping to the Yankees. But that doesn’t excuse the Dodgers.

Would it have hurt them to accord Sax the respect he earned over 7 seasons? I’m not talking about coddling and groveling. But how about a tiny bit of warmth? You remember what Mary Poppins said about sugar and medicine.

So I was wrong about Sax. He was just another replaceable part. And now I’ve been proven wrong about Bob Boone.

I figured this was one guy the Angels desperately needed to keep around.

He is a great catcher who is learning to hit, too. Boone knows baseball like Vanna White knows the alphabet. His baseball knowledge, even on microfilm, you couldn’t cram into an elephant’s ear.

But what do I know? The Angels obviously have a vast surplus of leadership and heart and experience.

Nine weeks after the end of the 1988 season, the Angels still hadn’t bothered to phone Boone and offer him a contract. They did, however, have time to wine, dine and sign free agent catcher Lance Parrish for $1.4 million, roughly twice Boone’s last Angel salary.

The Parrish signing and the Angels’ phone silence seemed to convey a message to Boone. So he signed with the Kansas City Royals.

“Hey, if Boone was so hot to stay with the Angels, he could have called us ,” Angels’ brass says.

When? At the All-Star break?

Angel owner Gene Autry now says he was willing to give Boone maybe $1 million. Once again my baseball knowledge is too shallow to grasp this concept: Alleged backup catcher Parrish, with a bad back, coming off a .215 season, is worth $1.4 million; alleged starter Boone, fit as a 19-year-old, coming off a .295 year, is worth only $1 million.

There were other factors. Boone was disappointed that his offer to manage the Angels at no additional salary was rejected out of hand. The Angels wanted to go with an experienced manager, Doug Rader, who has experienced 155 wins and 200 losses.

Will somebody smarter than me, which is to say almost anybody, please explain why Rader was a better managerial catch than Boone would have been?

In the end, though, Sax and Boone have only themselves to blame. They were unable to adjust to the changing times. Their respective front offices are run by members of that new breed of executive known as--to borrow a term from sports agent Leigh Steinberg--the new technocrats.

They wear suits that fit and neckties with stripes instead of palm trees. Even their off-the-cuff remarks tend to sound like prepared statements on the latest Space Shuttle mission.

Apparently this slick and modern management style can make guys such as Sax and Boone feel unwanted. So they both left town, and two local ballclubs are now a little weaker in the heart.

I used to think that was important, but what do I know?

Either I’m getting dumber or gnats are getting bigger.