THE RISE OR FALL : Dodgers Could Have Recurring Dream or Terrible Nightmare in ’89

It is late on a Monday afternoon, Oct. 2, 1989, and Dodger Stadium is shrouded in shadows. It is the top of the ninth inning of a one-game playoff between the Dodgers and San Diego Padres to determine the champion of the National League West. Jay Howell, the Dodger reliever, is attempting to protect a one-run lead. There are two outs. Roberto Alomar is on third, Tony Gwynn is on second. First base is open. The batter is Jack Clark.

Mike Scioscia, the Dodger catcher, looks into the dugout for a sign. Tom Lasorda, the manager, gives him the go-ahead to pitch to Clark. In the Padre dugout, Manager Jack McKeon flashes a wicked grin. Howell checks the runners, then delivers his pitch. It’s a fastball, belt-high, headed for the middle of the plate. Clark swings, and . . . Tommy Lasorda should have his share of nightmares this summer. This business of repeating as champions of big-league baseball is no stroll through the park--no revelry in Riverfront, no soiree in Shea, no carnival in Candlestick, no barbecue in Busch, no whimsy in Wrigley.

Has anyone heard Lasorda popping off this spring, guaranteeing back-to-back titles like his basketball counterpart, Pat Riley of the Lakers? Well, yes, actually, when Lasorda spoke in Vero Beach, Fla., at the 30th reunion dinner of the 1959 Dodgers, the first L.A.-based Dodger team to win a World Series. But the next day, Lasorda hastened to amend his remarks to a reporter. What he meant to say, Lasorda insisted, was that he hoped this team would become the first Dodger team to repeat, and the first in baseball since the New York Yankees whipped Lasorda’s Dodgers in 1977 and ’78.

The Dodgers of the Duke and PeeWee, Jackie and Skoonj, Newk and Campy, never won two Series in a row. The Dodgers of Koufax and Drysdale, the Davis boys, Wills and Roseboro? Nope. Garv and the Penguin, Fergy and Reggie, Lopes and Russell? Uh-uh.

So, the wise guys are looking pretty smug these days when they peg the Dodgers to take a classic fall, rather than wind up in the Fall Classic, again this season. Of course, these are the same wise guys who picked the Dodgers to finish no better than fourth in 1988, so go figure.

What do we think? That not even Sylvester Stallone would dare to write a sequel to match last year’s Orel IV , which co-starred Kirk Gibson as The Natural and featured a bunch of scene-stealers called Stuntmen.

But scanning a diamond full of Dodgers, it’s relatively easy to project a season of Lasorda’s fondest dreams, or most terrifying nightmares. Herewith, position by position, are best-case and worst-case (in italics) scenarios.

First base--Eddie Murray returns to the city of his birth, Los Angeles, and terrorizes the National League the same way he tore up Little League in South Central Los Angeles. The switch-hitter shatters the club record for home runs of 33, held by Steve Garvey and Pedro Guerrero, drives in more than 100 runs, wins another Gold Glove, and is voted the team’s “Good Guy” award by reporters.

Eddie Murray is a $2 - million bust, his once considerable skills continuing an erosion that began in Baltimore last season, when he was hitting .231 with four home runs in June and didn’t recover until Frank Robinson, the manager, made him a designated hitter. New contact lenses don’t help, his fielding reminds people of Pedro Guerrero, and he adds L.A. reporters to his hit list of media he won’t speak to after someone reminds him that he batted just .228 with runners in scoring position last season, compared to his career average of .305. Second base--Willie Randolph, who didn’t get as much as a phone call from the New York Yankees when he no longer figured in their plans, has the last laugh at the expense of George Steinbrenner. While Steve Sax yearns to break out of the Bronx Zoo, Randolph shows the same skills that made him a five-time All-Star, hitting close to .300, scoring nearly 100 runs, walking almost 80 times and making Dodger pitchers wonder how they ever got by without his double-play touch behind them.

Willie Randolph, who missed 52 games in 1988, breaks down a month into the season as either his a) knees, b) wrist or c) rib muscles give out on him. Randolph, who no longer can run, proves completely unsuited for the role of Dodger leadoff man, especially because he is hitting no higher than the .230 average he finished with in 1988 and doesn’t steal a base until just before the All-Star break. By July, when he turns 35, Randolph is replaced in the lineup by Mariano Duncan.

Shortstop--Alfredo Griffin proves that 1988 was an aberration, when he hit .199 and couldn’t avoid being hit by Dwight Gooden’s fastball, which fractured his right hand and caused him to miss 57 games. Griffin’s average returns to the .258 range, which is what he hit in 12 seasons in the American League, and his play at short ranges from the steady to the spectacular.

Alfredo Griffin, whose .141 average in day games last season was the worst in the National League, proves his performance was no fluke as his average drops below his playing weight. By July, Griffin is so bewildered at the plate that Lasorda contemplates replacing him with Mariano Duncan, except Duncan has already replaced Willie Randolph. So, Lasorda calls on Dave Anderson, the only National League player with 200 or more at-bats in each of the last four seasons to fail to hit .250 or better in any of those seasons. Third base--Jeff Hamilton, finally providing stability at a position that has been tried by 22 Dodgers during the ‘80s, justifies Lasorda’s description of him as the best third baseman in the league by batting a respectable .250, reaching double figures in home runs, and by showing off his bazooka for an arm. All of the above show why the Dodgers were 50-29-1 in his 80 starts last season.

Jeff Hamilton, given the starting job in spring training even though he has yet to convince skeptics he can hit big-league pitching, falters badly at the plate. He fails to match his 1988 ratio of one home run per every 50 at-bats, which is how he finished with six home runs. Afield, he continues a trend he began in Florida, when he made eight errors. By July, Hamilton is in Albuquerque and Tracy Woodson is the third baseman.

Left field--Kirk Gibson, ignoring his sore right knee, improves all of his numbers with Eddie Murray hitting behind him in the Dodger lineup and becomes the first National League player to win back-to-back MVP awards since Atlanta’s Dale Murphy (1982-83). Gibson hits dramatic home runs, scores from second base on wild pitches, and terrorizes his teammates into winning. Even Orel Hershiser adopts his spiked-hair look.

Kirk Gibson, who has averaged just over 100 games in his 10 big-league seasons, becomes a regular on the Dodger disabled list, as his right knee fails to hold up under the strain Gibson places on it. Gibson tries to play through the pain and tries every possible cure . With the pennant on the line in September, Lasorda reluctantly sends up Dave Anderson to pinch-hit for the crippled Gibson.

Center field--John Shelby. One of the most underrated Dodgers, Shelby quietly strings together another season like 1988, when he set career highs in games, at-bats, runs and triples, batted .263 and had a league-best 24-game hitting streak. After hitting only 10 home runs in 1988, Shelby returns to his 1987 form, when he hit 21 homers for the Dodgers in just 120 games.

John Shelby, the easiest player to strike out in the league last season--he averaged one strikeout for every 4.3 plate appearances--continues the slump that began in the postseason, when he struck out 19 times in 12 games against the New York Mets and Oakland A’s and batted .190. By July, Lasorda is forced to try Mike Davis in center.

Right field--Mike Marshall, a picture of contentment after signing a three-year deal with the Dodgers, makes a mockery of opposition attempts to pitch around Eddie Murray by driving in more than 100 runs to lead the team in RBIs for the second straight season, and hits more than 20 home runs for the fourth time as a Dodger. He also plays in 140-plus games for the third time in his career.

Mike Marshall, caving in under the pressure of being the hitter opponents dare to beat them, strikes out more than 135 times, his most since he went down 137 times in 1985. Back problems return to haunt him, limiting him to the 104 games he played in 1987. Before the end of the season, Lasorda is platooning him with Mike Davis.

Catcher--Mike Scioscia, in the last year of his contract, responds by hitting .296, matching his career best in 1985. He also shows his home run off Dwight Gooden in the playoffs was no fluke by reaching double figures in home runs for the first time in his career. And, of course, he remains the world’s foremost plate-blocker.

Mike Scioscia fouls up his swing by trying to prove his home run off Dwight Gooden was no fluke. Fears about his marketability next winter, when the threat of a player strike will overshadow all negotiations, make him reluctant to risk an injury. That becomes apparent when 5-foot-6 Rafael Belliard runs over Scioscia at the plate. Pitching--Orel Hershiser, in the prime of his career at age 30, becomes the first pitcher to go through a season unscored upon. Tim Leary split-fingers his way to another half-dozen shutouts, Tim Belcher beats Tom Browning with a perfect game, Fernando Valenzuela revives Fernandomania, John Tudor reprises Tommy John, and Ramon Martinez--recalled in July--wins 10 games.

In the bullpen, Jay Howell and Alejandro Pena record more KOs than Tyson, and Tim Crews, who was left off the postseason roster, and Ricky Horton make Brian Holton the answer to a trivia question.

Orel Hershiser strains his vocal cords with one too many interviews. His personal computer erases its memory. He loses the cheat sheet he carries with him to the mound. He needs therapy after giving up a home run to Ozzie Smith. Tim Leary shows why his teammates call him Norman Bates. Tim Belcher succumbs to the sophomore jinx. Fernando Valenzuela, his shoulder shot, causes Lasorda to curse the day he ever let Fernando throw 160 pitches in a single game. John Tudor, despite a gallant comeback attempt, chooses to retire. Ramon Martinez can’t learn how to throw a curveball. In the bullpen, Jay Howell is discovered to have tobacco juice stains on his glove, and is suspended by Bart Giamatti. Alejandro Pena takes too long between pitches, and is suspended by Giamatti. Tim Crews is inadvertently left off the regular-season roster.

Bench--Just as in 1988, the Stuntmen regularly save the day.

No one thinks Mickey Hatcher is funny anymore. Manager--Tommy Lasorda, a happy winner, gains 30 pounds by October.

Tommy Lasorda, an unhappy loser, gains 30 pounds by October. Care to wager which scenario will come closer to being the truth in 1989?