BASEBALL ’95 : THE MANAGERS : No. 19 and Counting : Lasorda Had a Tough Act to Follow as Dodger Manager--but So Will His Successor (if the Time Ever Comes)

The bus rumbles along I-95 toward Ft. Lauderdale, and Dodger Manager Tom Lasorda’s head bobs as he tries to read a newspaper.

When he finishes, he grimaces, gently shaking his head in disgust.

He has just learned that Nancy Sinatra, the 54-year-old daughter of his friend, Frank Sinatra, is posing nude in the current issue of Playboy.

“Poor Frank,” Lasorda says, talking barely above a whisper, “I wonder what he thinks? I wonder if he even knows?

” . . . You can’t even get through to the guy anymore, he has so many people intercepting his calls. I hope he’s all right, but I wonder.”

Lasorda turns quiet, recalling the days when he and Sinatra were close. The singer was one of the first to call when Lasorda was hired as Dodger manager on Sept. 29, 1976. He wanted to know when Lasorda needed him to sing the national anthem.

And there he was, singing it on opening day of 1977 at Dodger Stadium. To celebrate their friendship, Lasorda devoted an entire office wall to pictures of Sinatra.

Now, it seems so long ago.

Many of Lasorda’s closest friends have retired or died, but he embarks upon his 19th season as manager of the Dodgers tonight when they open the 1995 season against the Florida Marlins at Joe Robbie Stadium.

There are whispers, once again, that this will be Lasorda’s final season. He will be 68 in September. His knees ache. His right shoulder throbs. He has been prohibited by doctors from throwing batting practice.

The talk is that after this season, it may be time for Lasorda to turn the reins over to bench coach Bill Russell or hitting instructor Reggie Smith.

But people have been saying that sort of thing for 10 years, and it is apparent that if Lasorda does not manage beyond this season, it won’t be by his own choosing. He wants to continue managing as long as he can.

“I can’t imagine Tommy retiring,” says Jo Lasorda, his wife of 45 years. “They’re going to have to peel him off the wall.”

Says Vince Piazza, father of Dodger catcher Mike Piazza, and one of Lasorda’s closest friends: “As long as his mind is operable, he’ll be out there. They could push him out there in a wheelchair, and he’d manage. Tommy retire? Never.”

*

Lasorda, after leading the Dodgers to the National League pennant in 1977, his first full season, was invited to Boca Raton, Fla., to play doubles in a charity tennis tournament against New York Yankee Manager Billy Martin.

Lasorda and Tracy Austin eventually won the match, leaving Martin fuming. Then when it was time to leave, the parking attendant immediately recognized Lasorda.

“Hey, Tommy Lasorda, how are you?” the attendant said. “It’s great to meet you.”

Lasorda shook his hand, gestured toward Martin and said, “Well, I’m sure you know this guy, don’t you?”

“Oh sure,” the attendant said. “Carl Yastrzemski.”

Martin screamed an obscenity at the attendant.

Lasorda reached into his pocket for money to pay the attendant, who said, “No, no, Mr. Lasorda. It’s our compliments.”

And turning to Martin, the attendant said: “Sir, that will be $3.”

In the 18 years since that incident, one Lasorda delights in recalling, no one in baseball has become more popular.

And certainly, no one in baseball has friends in higher places. He has dined with two Presidents. Four times he has been invited to state dinners at the White House. Mafia kingpin John Gotti once picked up his tab. He has given the graduation address five times at the Air Force Academy, twice at West Point and once at the Naval Academy.

He has a speech for every occasion, for every organization. He usually delivers about 100 in each off-season, about half for pay--$12,000 to $15,000 each--the others for charity.

Yet, if no manager is more famous, or remotely close in popularity, Lasorda’s name is normally not mentioned among the game’s most astute managers.

We hear about the exploits of Jim Leyland and Tony La Russa, the World Series championships won by Tom Kelly, the talents of Buck Showalter, the reverence accorded Sparky Anderson.

But when it comes to Lasorda, who has led his team to six division titles, four pennants and two World Series championships since succeeding Walter Alston, he seldom is recognized for anything more than his motivational skills.

“Let me tell you what people forget,” Anderson said. “Tom Lasorda walked in after one of the most famous managers in the history of baseball. He took over for him, and since then, the Dodgers have been every bit as good. Lasorda has to be given credit for some of it.

“I believe Tom Lasorda is the only guy who could have gone into L.A. after Alston and handled it. I think a lot about John Wooden and all those guys who failed after him, and you look at what Tom has done.

“I think Tom Lasorda has the right--and the Dodger people probably don’t like me saying this--but he should have the right to say when it stops.”

Perhaps it is Lasorda’s demeanor that prevents many from acknowledging his managerial skills. He is the manager who National League fans love to hate, if only because they love to beat the Dodgers and Lasorda is the Dodger.

“There’s a lot of jealousy, I think, because of his relationship with his players and his high visibility.” Reggie Smith said. “I remember when we first started running together in the outfield, and Sparky Anderson saying, ‘By the end of the year, they’ll be running nine different directions.’ ”

Lasorda said: “And I told Sparky, ‘That’s right. They’ll be going nine different directions to cash their World Series checks at their banks.’ ”

Anderson’s Big Red Machine at Cincinnati had won two consecutive World Series and four of the last five division championships when Lasorda was hired. Lasorda vowed times would change. They did. The Dodgers won two consecutive National League pennants.

And Sparky Anderson was fired.

“If it wasn’t for Tom Lasorda, I might still be managing in Cincinnati today,” Anderson said.

Lasorda’s peers say he pulled off one of the gutsiest moves in playoff history. It was Game 4 of the 1988 National League playoffs against the New York Mets. There were two outs in the 12th inning when Lasorda pulled Jesse Orosco and summoned the last pitcher in the bullpen--starter Orel Hershiser.

“I remember sitting on the bench and asking (pitching coach Ron) Perranoski who was coming in,” third base coach Joe Amalfitano said. “He said, ‘Hershiser.’ I said, ‘What? . . . You’ve got to be kidding.’ ”

Hershiser got Gary Carter on a fly ball to right field, and the Dodgers won, 5-4, squaring the series, then won two of the next three games and went on to win the World Series.

“When I look back to that move, it scares me more even today,” Lasorda said. “They would have put my head in a guillotine if it didn’t work.”

When critics discuss Lasorda’s postseason managing, though, they tend to remember only his decision to let Tom Niedenfuer pitch to St. Louis’ Jack Clark in the 1985 playoffs. Clark hit a crucial homer, and the Cardinals won the pennant. The Hershiser move is frequently forgotten.

Lasorda pays little attention to that sort of thing, but when it comes to accusations that he overuses his pitchers, he no longer remains quiet.

“That’s a fallacy,” Lasorda said, his voice starting to rise. “That’s a damn fallacy. That’s just not true. That’s one thing I’m not guilty of.

“Show me. Prove it to me. I want to see somebody I hurt. Where’s the proof?”

Well, critics say, how about Darren Dreifort, Hershiser and Fernando Valenzuela, for starters?

“What!” Lasorda screamed. “Fernando pitched 10 seasons. And Dreifort never once said he was hurting.

“I will never put a guy’s career on the line for one game. . . . I’ve never, ever hurt a pitcher, and that’s a fact.”

*

Lasorda opened the refrigerator in his office and stared in horror at the cheesecake. Someone had sliced it in pieces, and half of it was gone.

“Who the . . . ate the cheesecake?” he screamed. “Where’s the . . . Dammit, I want some answers.

“This isn’t . . . funny. What the . . . are you laughing at? I was saving that cheesecake for Peter (O’Malley) and some . . . ate the . . . thing.”

Lasorda screamed at his clubhouse attendants. He yelled at his coaches.

While Lasorda stalked the hall, coach Mike Scioscia casually asked, “Tommy, was that the one with the cherries on top?’ ”

“Dammit, it was you!” Lasorda screamed.”

“No, no,” Scioscia said, quickly recoiling. “I saw it, but I didn’t touch it. I swear to God.”

No one ever did confess, but if nothing else, the incident quickly dispelled any notion that Lasorda was mellowing.

“That’s one word I don’t think I’d use to describe him,” Russell said, laughing. “He can be sleeping one moment in the car, and yelling and screaming the next.

“I think age is finally catching up to him a little bit. He’s had setbacks with his knee and shoulder, and I know it bothers him that he can’t throw BP. But Tommy, well, he’s still Tommy. He’s as tireless as ever.”

This season will be Lasorda’s biggest challenge in years. He has six rookies and eight other players who have less than half a season in the majors. He wanted another veteran outfielder and one or two veteran pitchers.

But instead of complaining, he says the Dodgers will rise again.

“No matter how depressed, tired or dejected I am, the moment I walk into the clubhouse, I try to put on a new face, an enthusiastic face,” Lasorda said. “If my players see me dejected and depressed, what good does that do? I don’t want my players ever seeing me like that.”

Anderson looks ahead and says: “I feel sorry for the next guy, because I tell you what, they’re always going to compare him to Tom Lasorda.

“There’s only one Tom Lasorda, and to tell you the truth, I don’t think there will ever be another.”