Is Bavasi the Solution, or Part of Problem?

Bill Bavasi is thin as a marathon runner and if he has a resting pulse, sometimes you would need your own thumb on his wrist to feel the proof.

Bavasi, the Angels’ general manager, says he wants to live his life on an even keel, “never too high and never too low,” and so he cannot be prodded into any expressions of anger or despair, sadness or discouragement or just plain old fedupwithitness, if we can create a word here.

His baseball team has become an embarrassment, a group of squabbling malcontents who can’t fall down without spending two months on the disabled list, who don’t chase a foul ball without spraining an ankle, who whine that the manager is too mean, who complain that teammates aren’t trying hard enough, who, believe it or not, blast Angel fans for not being more like Boston fans.

How many of you felt some sense of dismay when Jim Edmonds, who of course spent a large chunk of the meaningful part of this season on the DL, mused over the weekend about how nice it was that Boston Red Sox fans were cheering and enthusiastic and wouldn’t it be wonderful if that same spirit could be found at Edison Field?

Hey, Jimbo, did ya notice? The Red Sox are in the midst of a wild-card race. The Angels aren’t. Last year it was OK to poke a stick into the guts of the reserved Angel fans. The actual Angels were trying hard and winning sometimes. This year, what do you want? The fans to stand and cheer every error, every strikeout, every pitcher who gets lit up? Maybe they can come out this weekend and cheer for what? The Yankees’ sweep?

So that’s what Bavasi has dealt with this year: Pouty millionaires who don’t much like their boss or each other. And when you get right down to it, who can you blame? Who brought these always-injured, apparently heartless, definitely ill-tempered people together?

That would be Bavasi.

In some places where major league baseball is played, there would have been an uproar about this. There would be fans and owners who would be making a big deal out of the fact that a team picked quite often to win its division, a team that quite proudly spent $80 million for a big-time free agent, Mo Vaughn, a purchase made partly to cause a national splash, to say, hey world, the Angels matter, don’t matter at all.

In some cities, managers and general managers would have been fired already. This team has become, in terms Disney might understand, something like those awful sitcoms on UPN or the WB network, so mindlessly bad that it isn’t even worth taking them off the air. Nobody’s watching, so it might be best not to call attention to the poorly written, horribly acted, low-rated shows by actually canceling them.

Bavasi is a man of class and character, unwilling to place blame and also unwilling to talk about himself.

Last December, on the day when Vaughn was signed, Bavasi introduced Vaughn to Orange County by talking way more about Vaughn’s fire and passion and clubhouse presence that would bring emotion to the locker room and the field than about Vaughn’s hitting power.

But even after Bavasi’s prize, his fiery clubhouse leader, had arrived, the Angels began losing and then losing some more and then turning on their manager, on each other and, geez, even on the fans.

“Even without Mo’s [ankle] injury, I don’t think you can expect a player to take over a clubhouse in one year,” Bavasi says. It is pointed out to Bavasi that some paying fans have wondered why not, considering Vaughn’s price tag, and to that Bavasi says, “Fair enough. I can understand those expectations.” Fair is fine but once in a while it would be nice to hear someone say, “Yeah, for $80 million Mo doesn’t get a free year. We want Mo to kick some butt.”

It is pointed out to Bavasi that, as a general manager, he has had to fire people for nonperformance, has cut players for not being good enough. So what would he do with himself? “I won’t talk about myself,” Bavasi says politely. Asked if he expects to be back next year, Bavasi is again polite and again succinct. “I won’t talk about myself.”

Bavasi is working for an entity where the most important thing in the big picture is The Big Picture. That the Bruce Willis movie “Sixth Sense” is the surprise summer hit is more important than that the Angels are the summer’s big bomb means Disney has had a good summer. It also means that if Bavasi is the perfect Disney baseball GM, ascetic in appearance, relentlessly even-tempered and impossibly unemotional, those same qualities seem to have turned a baseball team into something that matters to no one very much.

Should Bavasi be fired? Does anybody care? Should Disney sell the Angels? Does anybody care? There’s the problem. Baseball teams need passion. There is none to be found. Not at Edison Field. Not in Bavasi’s voice. Not in Disney offices. “I see dead people,” says the little boy in “Sixth Sense.” It is the tag line of the summer movie season. It is also the tag line for the Angels.

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Diane Pucin can be reached at her e-mail address: diane.pucin@latimes.com