Here Is How to Add Spark to Dodgers

My old silver-domed pal Sparky (George) Anderson from Thousand Oaks continues, as of this writing, to manage the major league baseball club in Detroit. I say “as of this writing” because this outfit has sent to the showers its owner, its chairman of the board, its president and its Hall of Fame broadcaster and soon might condemn the entire stadium, so I hope Sparky is safe.

I think of him whenever I order a pizza.

The new owner of the Detroit Tigers is the owner of the Little Caesars pizza chain, Mike Ilitch, who bought the baseball franchise lock, stock and pepperoni from the owner of the Domino’s pizza chain, Tom Monaghan. It went for $110 million, minus discount coupons.

“Whoever takes over has a lot of work to do, an awful lot,” says Anderson, whose players now bear that Old English “D” on their chests like a teacher’s grade.

I think Ilitch is the right guy to improve things.

Monaghan had recently purchased the Tigers and Ilitch the hockey-playing Red Wings when I was preparing to pull up stakes in Detroit, where any day now the Pistons almost certainly will be coming to terms with Pizza Hut or Chef Boy-Ar-Dee.

Once I went for a ride with Monaghan in the Domino’s corporate jet, and by the time we landed I was dizzier from the conversation than from the flight. He was as flaky as his crust.

Yet the Tigers did go 9-0 under his hands-off helmsmanship in 1984, then 35-5, then 104-58, then 7-1 in the postseason while winning the World Series with as fine a team as has come up the pike in baseball’s last 10 or 15 years.

Then Monaghan went from hands-off to hands-on.

Two of his moves involved Bo Schembechler, who as a baseball executive made a pretty good football coach.

Monaghan first helped persuade Schembechler to remain at Michigan and reject an offer from Texas A&M; with a package of goodies that included a Domino’s franchise of his very own, one in--of all places--Columbus, Ohio, home of the university’s arch-nemesis, Ohio State.

The running pizza gag that year was: “Hey, kids! Try our new anchovy-and-buckeye flavor.”

Later, after Schembechler decided to quit coaching, Monaghan made him a big man off campus--president of the Detroit Tigers. In terms of qualification and expertise, this was tantamount to making Leon Spinks the chairman of General Motors because he had once actually driven a car.

Well, Schembechler, who had actually seen a baseball game, went about improving the Tigers with dumb decisions such as permitting pitcher Jack Morris to leave and permitting broadcaster Ernie Harwell to be let go.

If you had taken a vote in Michigan as to whether the Detroit Tigers should get rid of Ernie Harwell or all 24 players, it would have been close.

Morris, meanwhile, is currently attempting to do a Three-Ring--win championship rings with three different teams.

Michiganders, who adore their baseball, now suffer. Their team is a drag. It is Cecil Fielder and pray for rain. Attendance is down and the ballpark is kaput, though stubborn traditionalists still refuse to understand that they could keep their memories and sit in the comfort of a Camden Yards.

Schembechler got axed by fax. He threatened to sue. Chairman of the board Jim Campbell, loyal to the organization for 43 years, was dismissed without so much as a “thanks for the memories.” When the sale was approved, the sensible Ilitch listed among his priorities keeping Fielder, bringing back Harwell and getting that new park off the ground. Good ideas.

But what of Sparky?

Now I must betray a trust. Several seasons ago, very much off the record, while Anderson sat around stuffing tobacco into his pipe and expressing his fondness for Detroit, he more or less blurted something:

“I’ll tell you, the one club I’d still like to manage is the Dodgers.”

Although as gossip fodder this is hardly as juicy as anything about topless British princesses or Woody and Mia and their R-rated version of “The Brady Bunch,” it occurs to me that now is the time to say something or forever hold my peace. Because sometime during the next month or two, it will be decided as to whether Tom Lasorda will be back for his umpteenth year with the Dodgers or will fly away to run the St. Pete club for his old Pennsylvania friend Vince Piazza.

How about Sparky Anderson as the next manager of the Dodgers?

I know that for some, Albuquerque Manager Bill Russell is the Lasorda-to-be, while others consider Bobby Valentine or even Phil Regan to be dark horses on whom to place your bets. Lasorda won’t say anything until it is practical or permissible to, and obviously neither can Anderson.

So OK, I will. If the Dodgers do end up needing a manager, they should consider the man in Detroit. If you call now, he can be here in 30 minutes or less.