Angels Taking Aim at Anemic Tradition

Snow was on the ground, not on the roster. Fluffy white Teflon clouds floated overhead, with the heaters blowing in. Stadium vendors roamed the aisles, hawking their wares-- “Ice . . . cold . . . Zima!! Get your chilled fruit and cheese plates here!”

For the Angels, this was opening night, 1994, and if the sights and sounds around them seemed a notch out of sync, you should have seen what the Angel hitters did to Kevin Tapani, ace pitcher of the Minnesota Twins.

Seven Angels batted in the first inning. Two scored.

Nine Angels batted in the second inning. Four scored.

It was 6-0 before the home fans could stop shaking their heads over the removal of the fabled Plexiglas left-field fence, for 10 years as much a part of the Metrodome as the air ducts in the upper deck and the giant Hefty bag in right. And isn’t that the trouble with baseball today? The game has no regard for tradition anymore.

The Angels rattled a few more long-standing perceptions--e.g., they’re lousy--by rapping out 15 hits Tuesday evening, outscoring the Twins, 8-2, and refraining from popping any champagne corks afterward in the clubhouse.

“We’re gonna have some games like this,” Manager Buck Rodgers said nonchalantly as he stabbed a plastic fork into a postgame slab of roasted chicken breast. “Tonight may not be typical, but we’re going to score a lot more runs than last year.”

A few feet outside Rodgers’ office, designated hitter Chili Davis was keeping pace shrug for shrug.

“We’re capable of hitting the ball like this,” Davis said. “We’ve got guys who can swing the bat, do a lot of different things on offense.”

Davis glanced around the room and began to tick off names.

Damion Easley. Two singles, a double and three runs in his first regular-season game back from the worst case of shin splints in recorded history.

“He’s my pick to click this year,” Davis said. “If he stays healthy, he’s going to make a big difference for us this year. The man can play. He can pick it, he can run. And we’re going to need that, especially with the loss of Luis Polonia at the top of the order.

“This year, we see what Damion Easley can do.”

Bo Jackson. Two RBIs and an infield single (!) from Hobble Along Cassidy, plus a powerful outfield relay from the warning track that helped shortstop Gary DiSarcina nail Twin Rich Becker at the plate--another change from the Luis Polonia era.

“Bo adds a lot to this team,” Davis said. “You get Bo Jackson hot and he’s going to make our 1-2-3 hitters a whole lot better. He’s the strongest man I’ve ever played with. I’ve never seen the kind of home runs he hits. I saw him hit seven in spring training and all of them were no-doubters.”

Harold Reynolds. The old second baseman, who is the Angels’ new second baseman, debuted with two singles, a run and a potential double that wound up in the glove of a sliding Pedro Munoz, the Twins’ left fielder.

Davis said he likes Reynolds because “he’s older than me.” Actually, Chili is wrong; the media guide lists Davis’ age at 34, Reynolds’ at 33.

“I’m older than him?” Chili asked, incredulous.

Sad, but true.

“You’re the oldest position player on the Angels,” a Twin Cities writer informed Davis.

“But I don’t play a position,” Davis said, grinning.

For a moment, Davis thought about Chili Davis. Three more RBIs on opening night from the man who had 112 RBIs in 1993 and isn’t supposed to come anywhere near in 1994 according to every preseason baseball magazine and manual on the stands. You know Chili: hot one year, cold the next.

“The off-years I’ve had,” Davis said, “were usually years when I had injuries. Here (with the Twins) in ‘92, I went from 600 at-bats to 400 and never got a chance to get going. Now, you might say 400 at-bats is a lot of at-bats, but they could be split up over a whole year.

“In ’88 and ‘89, I had two pretty good years with the Angels and in ’90 I hurt my back. I had an off-year with the Giants in ’86 when I dislocated my shoulder at the All-Star break. My shoulder popped out, but I stayed in the lineup. That’s just something that happens sometimes.”

Davis said he doesn’t care about the critics because “the critics have never played the game. If they bring it up to me, I say to them, ‘You’ve been a journalist 23 years and you’re still no good at your job.’ If you’re gonna critic me, I’m gonna critic you.”

The critics have also said that these Angels have little chance in the American League West, despite its realigned and weakened state, but again Davis scoffs.

“Last year was the youth movement,” he said. “We’ve got a little more seasoning this year. Harold Reynolds, Bo, Dwight Smith. We’ve got what you’d call a good blend of youth and age.”

Davis grinned again.

“We’ve got . . . euthanasia!”

Tuesday night, they had it, putting the Twins out of their misery early. Now it’s on to Game 2 and the next act. Staying alive.