Conin Now Laughs With, Not at, Angels

Stand-up comedy isn’t Al Conin’s line of work.

Sit-down comedy, accidental and improvisational, often is.

Sometimes, Conin has found in his eight years as Angel play-by-play radio announcer, the joke is on him.

“I remember one game when Don Sutton was pitching for the Angels, and he got into trouble right away,” Conin says. “I mean big trouble. He begins the first inning, and bing , there’s a single. Bing , there’s another single. A walk.

“The bases are loaded, and I’m making references about getting the bullpen ready--and there were some people already up, getting warm. Next thing you know, there’s a strikeout. One away. There’s a pop-up. Two away. And I say, ‘What do you know--Don Sutton is doing a great job of relieving himself on the mound.’

“I look over, and my partner at the time, Ron Fairly, is doubled over in his chair. I’m saying, ‘What’d I say, what’d I say?’ ”

More often, the joke has been on the Angels.

“This was 1988, when Cookie (Rojas) was managing the Angels, the days of Chico Walker and Junior Noboa,” Conin says. “Both of them were on the bench, and neither was hitting .200. Well, Junior Noboa is playing one game, and he’s up in the bottom of the ninth with the tying run at third, and right then, Cookie calls him back.

“This is good, we think. Cookie’s going to pinch-hit. There’s a long pause, and we’re going through all the possibilities when Cookie finally sends a hitter up. And I say, ‘Now pinch-hitting for Noboa . . . Chico Walker? ‘ And I started laughing. I was laughing so hard I had to turn off the mike.

” . . . (Public-address announcer) John Ramsey makes the announcement--’Now batting, No. 20, Chico Walker’--and I’m still laughing. I start to say something, and I can’t. I mean, here’s a guy hitting .150, and Cookie sends up a guy hitting .160. I must have turned the mike on and off four times. Ken Brett motioned to me, like, ‘You want me to take over?’ I held my hand up--no, I’m OK--and tried it again, and I couldn’t stop laughing.

“The count was 2-0 before I finally got the words out: ‘And here’s Chico Walker.’ ”

Conin eventually apologized to Walker, but maybe the Angels should have apologized to him.

Those days, the voice of the Angels had the right to laugh, seeing as how it beat crying. Conin has been there through the thin and thin--the near-miss of ‘85, the cataclysm of ‘86, the dark ages of ’87 and ‘88, the zombie walk of ’90.

If there’s a lift in Conin’s delivery this spring, it’s understandable. It’s early, but the Angels have the look of a real player in the American League West--in Conin’s words, “this team is as competitive as any of the ones I’ve been around.”

Still, Conin is troubled.

“What boggles me is this: The Angels are leading the league in pitching, leading the league in defense, they’re third or fourth in hitting--and they’re behind the Oakland A’s, who are all banged up and down near the bottom in pitching and defense and in the middle of the pack in hitting. That’s incredible to me.”

The A’s are down half an infield and half a bullpen. They have played without Rickey Henderson for a stretch. They have played without Dave Stewart for a stretch. They have played without the Jose Canseco most AL pitchers know and loathe. This one’s batting .230.

The A’s still lead the Angels by 1 1/2 games.

“You think the Angels could take a shot like that?” Conin says. “Let them lose Finley, Schofield, four or five other guys, and have them win at a pace better than anyone else in the league?”

It happens in Oakland, Conin believes, because in Oakland, the A’s believe.

“I don’t know if the Angels are intimidated by the A’s,” Conin says, “but the A’s believe they can beat anyone. They have a positive arrogance about the way they play the game. They do what it takes to win, and they know how to adjust. . . . The Angels haven’t gotten to that point yet.”

The waiting is the hardest part, as evidenced by the early attendance returns at Anaheim Stadium. That’s been one change Conin has noticed since breaking in during the 1984 season: the hardening of the Angel fan.

“I think Angel fans are skeptical,” he says. “They want to see it first. They’ve been to the brink--they’ve been right there and then dashed. Any honest reading of the last 10 to 12 years has been one of an emotional roller-coaster. They’ve been close but they haven’t tasted it, and that hurts.

“Angel fans want to be enthusiastic, but they don’t want to be disappointed. There seems to be this feeling: Don’t screw it up. Do you think Oakland fans feel this way? I think they think just like the players: ‘Big deal, we’re gonna win.’ ”

It has to do with history.

The A’s have Catfish Hunter and Rollie Fingers.

The Angels have Junior Noboa and Chico Walker.

Good for a few laughs? Sure. Good for the last one? Conin and his listeners hope to live so long.