Good to Have a Fan in the Owner’s Seat

Casual Dodger fans remember Kirk Gibson’s home run.

True Dodger fans remember Mike Scioscia’s home run.

Bob Daly, traveling coast to coast, was one of the few people in the stands for both.

“That was a special year, 1988,” he said on what could be such a special Dodger day.

Casual Dodger fans remember Fernando Valenzuela’s no-hitter.

True Dodger fans remember Kevin Gross’ no-hitter.

Daly was in the stands on that night too.

“I love this team,” he said. “When they win, I feel good. When they lose, I feel terrible.”

If the Dodgers’ new chairman and controlling partner is to be believed, then all of Los Angeles should feel good, because we have won.

The town team is now being run by one of the town fans.

The Dodgers once again mean something to somebody who can make a difference.

Bob Daly, former Warner Bros. co-chairman who became Dodger boss Thursday, may turn out to be as silly as a frog in a top hat.

But for now, he is to be welcomed, for two basic reasons.

* He is not Fox.

* He remembers Aug. 21, 1990.

Casual Dodger fans understand the meaning of the first item.

True Dodger fans will understand the meaning of second.

It refers to a late-summer night not unlike dozens of other nondescript nights for a team on the fringe of a pennant race.

The Dodgers, hosting the Philadelphia Phillies, rolled to an 11-3 lead after eight innings.

By then, most of the fans had departed. Most TV viewers had surely changed channels. Even Tom Lasorda had momentarily wandered back into his office.

Then the extraordinary happened. The Dodgers blew the lead. They gave up nine runs in the ninth inning, eight of them unearned. They lost, 12-11.

Those who stuck around saw something they will never forget, something that will forever be etched in darkest parts of Dodger lore.

Bob Daly stuck around.

During an interview Thursday, unsolicited, Daly brought up that night.

He talked about how he watched the game at home, how his children had walked out when the Dodgers took the lead, how he kept watching until he witnessed the unbelievable.

And all this time, I thought I was one of the only ones.

“I was very depressed that night,” Daly said. “But I like to stick it out.”

He said he sticks it out not only when the team is contending for a title, but when all hope is lost.

After all, he watched this year’s season finale in Houston on TV, from start to finish.

Did you? I wouldn’t have dreamed of it.

“I watch the last game of the season, start to finish,” he said.

He said he also sticks it out even when he’s not supposed to be sticking it out.

While on business in Japan for Warner Bros., he said it was not uncommon for him to listen to the Dodger broadcast over a speakerphone.

“I would feel guilty after a while and hang up, because it was so expensive,” he said. “But then I would call again.”

While on business at a movie premiere, he said he would often get caught examining his pocket sports ticker.

“The director would see me shining my light down there, and think I was timing his movie, but instead I was just checking out the score of the game,” he said.

It is common practice for traveling Dodger officials to be faxed team newspaper clippings and statistics.

Daly said his secretary has been faxing him those same documents every day for years.

He has been in town since 1977, so he was here for everything that started with the Lasorda era.

He grew up in Brooklyn, so he remembers everything else.

He even still has a trace of the Brooklyn accent that, for years after the Dodgers moved here, could be heard in the words of longtime team employees.

Those who talked like that around the clubhouse, people listened to them.

Turns out, to be given this town’s blessing Thursday morning, Bob Daly didn’t even need to open his mouth.

Because Vin Scully did.

In my 13 years of hanging around the Dodgers, Vin Scully has never moderated a news conference introducing a new player or employee.

Among other things, perhaps, Scully’s exalted presence would have implied a respect that the employee had not yet earned.

Well, guess who introduced Bob Daly.

“It is a remarkable, wonderful moment,” Scully said.

Good enough for the most trusted man in Los Angeles, good enough for me.

Peter Chernin of Fox was also on the podium, professionally handing over the controls, graciously accepting the criticism of the past two years.

Chernin had a look on his face that seemed very much like relief.

Daly has a look that seemed very much like a little boy.

He tried to buy the Dodgers twice before Fox snapped them up. He was thankful that Fox gave him the opportunity to do the next best thing--buy 5% to 10% and run them without interference.

“Boy, am I happy,” he said.

It was that sort of day, happy and hopeful, perhaps the first one like it the Dodgers have had since that dark afternoon in 1997 when Peter O’Malley announced he was walking away.

Daly, 62, clearly wants to be the next O’Malley.

He talks about being friends with everyone at Warner Bros. from the cooks to the stars.

I have already received several bits of e-mail from Warner Bros. employees saying he was exactly that.

He talks about wanting to be accessible and accountable to the media and fans.

“I want to tell everybody at Dodger Stadium--I’m the guy on the line. I’m the face for the team. I’m the face for the Dodgers,” he said.

In the coming weeks, of course, that face will be peppered with questions.

Is he really going to rehire struggling former president Bob Graziano, and will he be able to explain why?

Can he inject his love for the Dodger tradition into Kevin Malone, who has been fairly guaranteed one more year to clean up this mess?

Will he bring back the distant old players and disaffected fans, while restoring the enduring deep blue bond between the team and the city?

One thing is for sure.

No matter how Bob Daly does, you’ll know where to find him.

“The bad thing about leaving Warner Brothers is that I lost my season tickets,” he said, laughing. “One of the good things about this job is, I get them back.”

*

Bill Plaschke can be reached at his e-mail address: bill.plaschke@latimes.com.