HOFFMANS USHERING IN NEW ERA

When Glenn Hoffman was a kid, his old man, Ed, let him and his brothers convert a perfectly good back yard into a concrete basketball court and a lighted whiffleball stadium. Love and cement make a strange mix, but Ed was like that.

When Glenn--Anaheim born, Anaheim raised--became an all-county infielder and Savanna High School basketball letterman, Ed attended every game he could. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

And when Glenn was signed by the Boston Red Sox in 1976, Ed wished it had been the Angels who had drafted his son. But they didn’t, so Ed became a Sox fan of sorts, which meant he had to watch what he said when Glenn came to town. Ed, after all, was an usher at Angel games, and who wants to be seated by some guy rooting for the visiting team?

Now, 13 years later, Glenn Hoffman, the prodigal son, has returned home to play for the Angels. It wasn’t easy; it wasn’t even official until Friday afternoon, when Manager Doug Rader informed Hoffman that he had earned a place on the team’s 24-man roster as a utility player. And wouldn’t you know it: Ed was visiting the ballpark the same day his son got the news.

“I mean, what are the chances?” said Glenn. “You come in as a non-roster player. It just shows you that anything can happen. It’s a weird game.”

Exasperating, too. For more than a decade, Ed Hoffman patrolled the aisles of Anaheim Stadium. He kept the peace. He greeted fans with a warm smile. He did all this with the slim hope that circumstances would someday bring Glenn and the Angels together. That way he could root for his son and the right team.

Finally, in 1986, Ed retired, figuring he had waited long enough for circumstances to see things his way.

So what happens? Glenn gets released by the Red Sox a year later and ends the season with the Dodgers. Then he spends the 1988 season with Boston’s triple-A Pawtucket team. The Red Sox want Hoffman to return in 1989--as a triple-A coach, not major league player. Hoffman, 30, tells them he’s too young to quit.

And thus begins a series of telephone calls to teams across the country. In both leagues. On both coasts. When the Angels offered Hoffman a place on the Edmonton team and an invitation to spring training as a non-roster player, he happily accepted. It was either that or the real world.

“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to let an opportunity go by,” Hoffman said. “I figured that if we were going to (try out), it would be nice to do it at home.”

And if he bombed?

“I probably would have gone into real estate,” he said.

Instead, he overcame what once appeared to be an insurmountable lead by Dave Concepcion for the utility position. Rader had all but said that the job was Concepcion’s for the taking. Problem was, Concepcion didn’t take it; he gave it up with 40-year-old legs that could no longer jump or run, and 40-year-old hands that reacted a split-second too slowly.

Meanwhile, Hoffman did what he does best, which is plug along unspectacularly. Heavy on professionalism, light on mistakes is the Hoffman trademark.

“I guess that’s the way I’ve played,” he said. “I don’t run real fast. I don’t hit for a lot of power or do the flashy things, but I feel like I know how to play the game. I feel that’s what has kept me around for so long.”

Hoffman began the spring wearing No. 62, which is great if you’re an offensive guard, but terrible if you’re an infielder looking for a full-time job in the big leagues.

“Hey, it’s a uniform,” said Hoffman.

In other words, he’d rather have No. 62 than a real estate license.

But look how things worked out: Hoffman will begin the regular season Tuesday wearing No. 9, while Concepcion will be wearing street clothes.

“Davey was a good ballplayer,” Hoffman said. “I just hope, like Rader said, that he hooks on somewhere.”

A witness, of course, to his son’s rise and Concepcion’s fall was none other than Ed Hoffman, who spent the spring driving from ballpark to ballpark, from Anaheim to Mesa, Mesa to Palm Springs and Palm Springs to Anaheim. At the time, you never knew if the next exhibition game might be Glenn’s last, what with Concepcion’s supposed edge.

“I love to drive, I guess,” he said.

Ed Hoffman has traveled across the country to see his son play. One time, he came courtesy of the Red Sox, who invited him to sing the national anthem on opening day of the 1981 season.

Turns out that Haywood Sullivan, the chief executive officer of the Red Sox, had promised to arrange the whole thing if Glenn made an opening day roster. “And he kept his word,” Glenn said.

“Red-carpet treatment,” said Ed.

But this is better. This is Hoffman playing in front of Hoffman. Making the homecoming even sweeter is the fact that no one expected it.

“This,” Glenn said, “is really special.”

From now on, complimentary tickets will be waiting for one Mr. Ed Hoffman at the Anaheim Stadium “Will Call” window, courtesy of Glenn. Ed had talked about requesting his old usher job back, but Glenn vetoed that idea.

“You worked hard enough,” he told him.

The way Glenn figures it, Ed, 77, belongs in a seat, not on his feet. Thus, the freebies.

Ed won’t see his son play much. Utilitymen make infrequent appearances. They are baseball’s repairmen: to be used only in emergency.

But that’s OK, Glenn said. “As a utility player, I feel like I’m trying to be the best one there is,” he said. “It’s not easy. I’ve talked to some people about it who say it’s harder than playing every day.”

And you’ll get no complaints from Ed, who would rather see his son sitting in the Angel dugout than no dugout at all.

“I was walking on air,” he said. “I couldn’t be any happier.”

There is talk of Ed making another singing appearance, this one at Anaheim Stadium. It would be nice, but not necessary. Ed already got his wish: His son is back.