PADRE ANALYSIS : McIlvaine Won’t Have Easy Time

Dear Joe McIlvaine:

You can go ahead and loosen that tie now. Hey, leave the sport coat at home, too. We know you’re the Padres’ new general manager, but this is San Diego. Heck, around here, a clean T-shirt, shorts and sandals are considered formal attire.

It’s going to be quite a change for you and your family. You’re probably already finding it difficult to get your sense of direction. Why, with the relative lack of graffiti and skyscrapers, you must be wondering what anyone uses for landmarks. Don’t go looking for the subway. Around here, public transportation consists of buses and these crazy things called trolleys.

Sure, you’re going to miss the Jersey Shore. But in New York, you could only soak up rays a few months of the year. Out here, it’s virtually 12 months, baby. Just don’t forget the sun block.

The cost of housing is astronomical, as you’re finding out. Word of warning: Don’t embarrass yourself by telling your real estate agent that you need a home with a big basement; there aren’t any. But you’ll be shocked at all the extra room you’ll find in your garage once you leave your snow shovels and boots behind. Oh, yeah, don’t forget to get a house with a large guest room. Once you’re out here, friends and relatives surface out of nowhere.

Really, you’re going to love it here, Joe. The weather. The scenery. The atmosphere. The zoo.

Come to think of it, there’s only one sour aspect of your lifestyle change. Yeah, you guessed it. Your job.

Remember all those days in New York when you and the gang in the Met front office were laughing yourself silly over the goings-on in San Diego? You know, taking bets on how many of Joan Kroc’s sons-in-law would wind up running the Padres, debating whether the Padres were more humorous on the field or off or wondering if they would ever develop another player who would not be traded away?

Well, it’s all yours, big guy.

Now, now. Cheer up, Joe. Wipe away the tears. Everything will be all right . . . some day. It’s just that no one can guarantee when.

You must be wondering how this mess was created. This is the same team that finished only three games out of first place in 1989, remember? Given that and the $9.2-million acquisition of outfielder Joe Carter in the off-season, everyone believed the Padres would win the National League West. Come to think of it, didn’t you even tell someone they’d run away with it?

But the only running the Padres did was while trying to escape one another. Pitcher Ed Whitson fled three days before the end of the season. Carter was so eager to leave that he scheduled a 10:15 flight Wednesday night from Los Angeles, departing in the middle of the last game with the Dodgers. Everyone else was on the first flights Thursday morning, including your manager, Greg Riddoch.

“I just want to forget this season as quickly as I can,” Riddoch said. “When people start talking about 1990 next year, I’m going to act like they don’t know what they’re talking about, because I’m going to forget everything that ever happened this year.”

You’re hearing this everywhere in the front office. No one’s talking about this season. Forget winning games--this is an organization that couldn’t even get the the national anthem sung without causing a national disturbance.

Oh, well, maybe you’re better off not knowing the details, anyway, Joe. Besides, there’s no time to reflect on the past . . . only the future. And it’s up to you to lead the way.

Go ahead and start making changes any time, because heaven knows, no one is safe when a team goes 75-87 and finishes in a tie for fourth in the division.

You’ve already decided that your first changes will be in the front office. Ten employees, including six scouts, have been fired. When you have an advance scout making reports that no one has bothered reading since July, and a scout in Florida who failed to sign a single major league player, those decisions are easy.

You’re still unsure what to do with Tom Romenesko, the player development director, and Randy Smith, the scouting director, but you’re inclined to keep them. You’ve had long talks with each of them and believe that perhaps their recent failings are a product of the previous administration.

But those decisions hardly will be scrutinized. There won’t be a public outcry if they are fired or retained.

No, it’s all the other decisions, the personnel decisions involving players, that will be observed and debated as soon as they’re announced. Those are the kind of moves that can make or break the public image of a general manager. Recall how you were never forgiven in New York for the Lenny Dykstra-Juan Samuel trade.

You’re stepping into the shoes of the man they called Trader. He was willing to trade his own son-in-law--and, in fact, he did. His flaw was that he perhaps made too many trades, spoiling the atmosphere in the clubhouse. Character flaws don’t show up in box scores, and seldom did Jack McKeon pay much attention to anything other than a man’s playing ability.

It’s your turn now. It’s your turn to develop a championship team. And, frankly, it’s your turn to decide if you want to plug in some holes and vie for a pennant next season . . . or just gut the entire operation.

First of all, a coaching staff must be assembled. Riddoch wants to fire third base coach Sandy Alomar, and he’ll be fired within days. Riddoch has suggested his buddy, Tommy Runnells, third base coach of Montreal. You think it perhaps might be best if the job is filled by a former manager serving as a bench coach.

Pat Dobson, pitching coach, has asked permission to leave and might fill the vacancy in St. Louis or Kansas City. Riddoch has suggested Jon Matlack, double-A pitching coach in Wichita. The truth is, Mike Roarke, fired this week as pitching coach in St. Louis, is the best candidate available, and praised throughout baseball.

Denny Sommers will be kept as bullpen coach, Rob Picciolo as first base coach. You’re unsure what to do with Jack Maloof, hitting coach. It’s unfair to demote him after only 3 1/2 months on the job, but if someone such as Hal McRae could be stolen from Montreal, you’d have the finest hitting coach in all of the land and perhaps the man who could best rectify the Padre clubhouse woes.

And, as you’re well familiar, the clubhouse atmosphere is an absolute mess. There’s been so much bickering, back-stabbing and finger-pointing among players this season that it led Whitson to this revelation.

“I think the most shocking thing about this season,” he said, “is that there hasn’t been a fight in here. I don’t mean arguing, we’ve had plenty of that. I’m talking about a good old-fashioned fistfight.

“I think maybe the only thing that kept that from happening is if that occurred, it might have turned into a brawl, with all of us knocking the . . . out of each other.

“There’s no way we can come back with the same guys, absolutely no way.”

Said one Padre player: “I tell you what, if there aren’t some big changes in here, I’m asking for a trade. It’s brutal in here. Who wants to play on a team like this? Every day of this season was miserable.”

You see, Joe, you’ve got big problems, and they will continue if wholesale changes aren’t made. Get a pencil and start writing. Better make it a long sheet of paper.

There are three players the coaching staff doesn’t want back for the 1991 season--first baseman Jack Clark, third baseman Mike Pagliarulo and shortstop Garry Templeton.

Clark’s problems with Tony Gwynn are well-documented. He hates the man, and vice versa. Clark has insisted since spring training that Gwynn is a selfish player, and he spent a season trying to prove it. But Gwynn is only on the top of Clark’s hit list. He’d love to see outfielder Joe Carter and second baseman Roberto Alomar following Gwynn out the door.

Of course, the crux of Clark’s feud with Gwynn is jealousy. Just as he hated Ozzie Smith for Smith’s popularity when they played together in St. Louis, Clark is infuriated that Gwynn not only is Mr. Padre but is considered by reporters to be one of the most well-liked players in all of baseball.

It also was rather curious that Clark berated Gwynn for voicing his displeasure about his $1-million contract during the winter, then ripped Padre ownership for its $2.5-million offer to him.

The only question looming about Clark is not whether he’ll leave but just how he’ll leave. If Clark is granted second-look free agency this month, the Padres won’t even make a bid. If he remains under contract to the Padres, they’ll take him to arbitration and then trade him.

Clark, of course, will be only the first of Gwynn’s detractors to hit the road.

Mike Pagliarulo, who’s eligible for free agency, will be gone without a phone call. Actually, he doesn’t want to be back anyway.

Templeton, whose relationship with Gwynn deteriorated years ago, is expected to be gone. He has another year on his contract at $500,000, and most important, the Padres don’t have another shortstop in sight. But the coaching staff considers him a threat, so Templeton likely has played his last game in a Padre uniform.

There will be other changes, to be sure, and now that you think about it, you can’t guarantee anyone they definitely will be back. But you can’t trade everybody. For the time being, you need a priority list.

Shortstop: It’s a must. Templeton, 34, made 26 errors this season, and that doesn’t count the balls that he couldn’t reach because of his bad knee.

Center field: Carter proved he’s more suited to left. Besides, with Clark gone, you just might move Carter to first. It’s possible Gwynn could be moved to center, especially if you can swing a deal for right fielder Danny Tartabull of Kansas City, who requested a trade to your place or the Angels.

But one nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind concerning center field, doesn’t it? That Shawn Abner kid. OK, so he’s not going to be the type of player you imagined when you drafted him No. 1 in 1984. Hee-hee-hee. Remember that one? You also were smart enough to trade him in a package to the Padres to obtain Kevin McReynolds. But Abner can cover lots of ground, and certainly, no one is more competitive in the clubhouse.

Third base: You’d like to strangle McKeon for putting third baseman Carlos Baerga in the Carter trade. And you’d like to punch the guy responsible for not protecting third baseman Dave Hollins in the winter draft, allowing him to be selected by Philadelphia.

The only option you have among those remaining is Bip Roberts, the most surprising player on your team after hitting .309 this season. But because of his propensity for injuries, the coaching staff tells you they’d rather continue using him as a roving player.

Bench: The only reserve player the staff definitely wants back is Fred Lynn. He might be 38, but he was invaluable talking with the younger players, and if used properly, he still can contribute as a pinch-hitter. You’ll acquire more veterans by opening day and assure Riddoch that this will be the least of his problems.

Starting pitching: Andy Benes, Ed Whitson and Bruce Hurst is a nice nucleus. There is also Derek Lilliquist, who could be a sleeper. Dennis Rasmussen is a free agent, but he can be yours for a two-year contract. Rasmussen isn’t going to win a Cy Young, but if he’s paired with a solid defense, watch him win at least 15 games next year.

Bullpen: Yeah, you’d like to smack President Dick Freeman, Fred Lane, Joan Kroc and just about anyone else who had a hand in the Mark Davis negotiations. Craig Lefferts was a nice pickup and could get you 30 saves in a season if used properly, but he’s no Davis. Greg Harris broke down early this season and had a dead arm much of the second half. But he’s also the man everyone asks about. Heck, even you offered to trade for him. He has the best arm in the organization and perhaps it might be time to stick him in your starting rotation. You need to make a lot of phone calls to shore up the rest of the pen.

Well, this about covers everything, Joe. Everyone knows what you’re thinking, but a contract’s a contract. Besides, five years will go fast, you’ll see.

Perhaps the best aspect about all of this is that it’s your baby. Chairman Tom Werner has told you that you have carte blanche in all personnel decisions. You need to answer to him and only him.

There’s only one request that Werner has asked of you. Please, put a competitive product on the field. You see, the club barely made money this year and the ownership group has decided to raise ticket prices for next season. It’s not going to make the public happy one bit, but that’s where you fit in, Joe.

You’re the savior. You’re the focal point of the public relations push. The Chargers have Bobby Beathard, the Padres have you.

Joe, it’s all yours.

P.S.: Don’t say no one warned you.