Bavasi’s Life Isn’t for Faint of Heart

Lee Smith, his first head-first plunge into the free-agent whirlpool, is on the cover of this week’s Sporting News.

Tony Phillips, his first brow-mopping roll of the dice, is on base 42% of the time and crossing home plate with a higher frequency than any player in the American League.

Marcel Lachemann, his controversial choice to replace fan and media favorite Buck Rodgers in the dugout, is sitting atop the AL West with 38-28 ballclub, a team with the sixth-best record in the major leagues.

Ah, the charmed life of the Angel general manager.

Bill Bavasi is midway through his sophomore season in the office with the ejector seat and the revolving desk name plate. He succeeded Whitey Herzog, who succeeded Dan O’Brien, who succeeded Mike Port--and that’s just the last 50 months. In the last two, a new ownership group has bought into the Angels, an ownership group that divides civilization into two categories--”Disney people” and “non-Disney people”--and hires management executives accordingly.

This could be the best year in Bavasi’s career as Angel GM--or it could be his last. The team Bavasi has assembled could win the pennant this fall, but when Disney takes over, who knows what will happen? Maybe Bavasi’s ears are too small. Maybe he doesn’t wear enough Donald Duck ties. Maybe they want someone who prefers the “Pocahontas” soundtrack to Counting Crows and the Cranberries.

“Hey, I was right about Counting Crows,” laughs Bavasi, ever the talent scout. His musical tastes reflect his age, 37, which is precocious by general manager standards and youngish even by Angel standards. Two players signed by Bavasi, Smith and Scott Sanderson, were born before Bavasi. Phillips (36), Chili Davis (35), Bob Patterson (36) and Mike Bielecki (36 this month) are contemporaries.

Professionally speaking, Bavasi ought to be just settling in, preparing for lengthy and gainful employment.

Disney, he hopes, will see it precisely the same way, when the time comes.

“I haven’t been given any assurances,” Bavasi says, “and talking about the situation is something I really want to stay away from. But, I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, because I truly believe it: Your performance will take care of you.

“I will get what my performance warrants. The only thing that I should expect is an opportunity. Period. And that’s not being high and mighty. It’s true. You can’t get away from the truth. What else should you be able to expect?”

But if he were doing the hiring and firing, Bill Bavasi would retain Bill Bavasi.

“I’m happy with the way we’ve operated,” he says. “We had a terrible won-lost record last year, it’s better this year, but either year, I think all of us did a good job. Our scouting, our minor leagues, everyone. If the records were reversed and we were having a down year here, I’d still feel decent about the job we’ve done, and hopeful of an opportunity.”

It is here Bavasi comes clean.

After 18 months on the job, he confesses to becoming smitten.

“I love it,” he says. “I love the action, the pressure, the suspense, the intensity. I generally get along with agents and writers. Dang, if you’re a general manager who gets along with agents and writers, you’ve got it made.”

At least you’ve got a fighting chance.

“I am surprised, though, that I do sleep less,” he says with a grin. “I didn’t think that would ever happen . . . I came into this thinking, ‘I can handle this, I can leave the job behind me when I leave the office, piece of cake.’

“I found out that it’s just like it was when I was growing up with Buzzie. The radio’s always on at home. My kids care if I win or lose. My wife cares if I win or lose. You try to knock off for the night, but it’s tough.”

Bavasi calls it the “paranoia” of his inexperience.

He claims it has served him well.

“When we make a player move, we’re probably more paranoid than other clubs,” Bavasi says. “And that’s good. We probably look under more rocks than other clubs do. We’re not afraid to approach things differently.

“On the down side, we’re more paranoid. Because we should be. We lack the [front office] experience other clubs have.”

Case in point: Midway through the 1994 season, Bavasi was calling around, looking for a closer. He heard Minnesota might make Rick Aguilera available. Boldly, he decided to phone Andy MacPhail, Twins’ general manager and cagey vet.

“I had a deal set up with Andy MacPhail,” Bavasi says, still sounding surprised at the very thought. “If that isn’t David and Goliath, I don’t know what is.

“And he spit me through a tin horn. This guy is the best in the business. We didn’t make the deal--I felt he wanted one player too many--and in hindsight, it was a great deal not to make. Because he had me on my toes. . . .

“He’d call back and make a counterproposal and immediately I’d be thinking, ‘What does he know? What does he know that I don’t know.’ And Bob Fontaine, our scouting director, was lying on a couch in my office and he says, ‘Where do you want to start? He knows plenty that you don’t.’ ”

Bavasi can laugh about that now. Aguilera stayed put, Smith came aboard in the winter, millions of dollars were spared and the Angels enter the second weekend of July in first place.

Not that Bavasi is about to carry on like some wide-eyed postmodern-rocking 37-year-old tadpole.

“We’re not good yet,” he says. “You’re good in October. We’re on that journey . . . but there’s a long way to go.

“That’s the tough part. Every time you play a great game and think you’re over the hump, someone snaps up and puts it in your face. But, that’s the beauty of it.”

Just because you think everyone’s out to get you doesn’t mean you’re paranoid. It only means you’re ahead of the pack, with three months still to play.