Piazza Makes True Blue Call

Mike Piazza must have felt a twinge of anxiety, after having spoken out--quite eloquently, I thought--on the Dodgers and their diversity, their chemistry, their responsibility to one another as teammates and, needless to say, his own role in any of this. Being human, the Dodger catcher has to be concerned about whether he should keep his mask on and his mouth shut.

He needn’t be.

He batted 1.000. Every word that Piazza spoke was as on the money as a Raul Mondesi peg from the right-field corner. And right or wrong, this is the way leaders are born, whether they yearn for leadership or dread it.

Mike Piazza became a true leader of the Los Angeles baseball club this week, saying a number of things that needed saying, solving no problems but at last addressing them. For a catcher, he’s a stand-up guy.

It took guts to go out on a limb this way. I hope Mike’s teammates don’t misinterpret that as grandstanding. Piazza put himself in the position of issuing a State of the Dodgers address, even though this was plainly not his intent. He collected his observations over a few months, then got them out of his system. They did not sound sanctimonious, or apologetic. He simply thought out loud.

About what? About the ballclub’s heart, what makes it tick, for one thing. The nature of the Dodgers, to those who view from afar, seems to be that of an uninspired, underwhelming team that lacks togetherness.

If I assess correctly what Piazza is saying, the players do not necessarily resent this or even disagree with this; they simply wonder what they’re supposed to do about it: Sit on each other’s laps?

“Have picnics after games?” as Piazza put it.

Esprit de corps is passe. As a concept, the pep talk is all but dead, the team meeting “behind closed doors”--as opposed to where, in the parking lot?--is overdone, the rah-rah mentality is ridiculed and the huggly-wuggly personality of a Tom Lasorda is not something that would turn a Bill Russell into a successful manager overnight. The Dodgers need more runs, not hugs.

Piazza rightly harks back to championship teams such as the ‘70s Oakland Athletics and ‘80s New York Mets, who did not spend their afternoons reading scripture together or singing “Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” on the bus. What he means is, the Dodgers are disappointing, not dysfunctional. OK, they aren’t the Brady Bunch, but is that why they can’t hit a right-hander?

Years ago, the Dodgers brought in a team psychologist of some kind, just in case anyone cared to vent. I gather the idea was to ward off problems before they became bigger problems.

As astute a move as this appeared to be, I doubt it prepared the Dodgers for this rainbow coalition that would become their dugout. You mix personalities from around the world, cliques are bound to form. Cliques form, so companionship is sacrificed. It doesn’t keep an Ismael Valdes from sitting beside a Hideo Nomo, communicating through a universal language, but it makes the Dodgers strain to find a common ground.

Mike Piazza has to catch a United Nations Rotation, bond with his pitchers, bat when his turn is up. This is enough of a burden unto itself. He hasn’t time to be sociologist and team spokesman.

But when a team struggles, as this one has, and no one volunteers an opinion, let alone a solution, it can be construed that the public shouldn’t bother caring about a bunch of guys who don’t even seem to care about each other. People have a great capacity to listen. They want to be told what the players think is going on, but since they cannot speak to these players personally, they need a guy like Piazza to go public, once in a while. Spread a little truth.

And, of course, clear the air with one another, Dodger to Dodger.

There’s nothing wrong with this team a Berlitz course couldn’t cure.

Does diversity breed adversity? Could be, but in a game ever expanding and short of pitching, the Dodgers went around the world to find theirs. That is the beauty of it. But it’s a new system, so it has kinks.

I know that Mike Piazza was reluctant to open a can of worms, possibly at his own expense. But in discussing frankly what life is like with the Dodgers, he shed a lot of light on the situation. I think he spoke personally to every Dodger fan, who should thank him for making the effort.