Angels Are the Latest to Push Tigers Around

The old catcher is still laying down daring signs.

Only sometimes now, he does it by picking up the phone.

Sunday afternoon at Tampa Bay was one of those times, after Angel second baseman Adam Kennedy made a wild toss to first base on a slow roller that scored the Devil Rays eventual winning run.

The play was ruled a hit.

But Mike Scioscia, the old catcher and new Angel manager, thought Kennedy should have made a better throw.

He told Kennedy.

Then, in a play as bold as any he has called all year, Scioscia told the world.

Scioscia dialed the press box and wondered if the official scorer could take another look.

The scorer did, and changed the play to an error.

It is not unusual for a manager to make a phone call in an attempt to give his batter a hit.

But doing it to give his fielder an error?

Even if it means that his pitcher--in this case Jason Dickson--is saved an earned run?

It’s as unthinkable as Mike Scioscia hitting a ninth-inning home run off Dwight Gooden to tie a playoff game.

The old catcher shrugged.

“I am who I am,” he said Monday from his Edison Field dugout. “I don’t care about scorers’ rulings. But that play should have been made.”

Equally amazingly, Kennedy also shrugged.

“He was right, I should have made the play,” said the rookie. “And if I had been in the league any longer, I would have called the scorer myself.”

The old catcher smiled.

“A guy standing up and being accountable like that, it’s awesome,” Scioscia said.

The old catcher sees a lot of himself in that kid.

The kid hopes to see himself in the old catcher.

“You remember him from playing, how tough he was, how he always hung in there,” said Kennedy, who watched Scioscia while growing up in Riverside. “That’s the way he is now. Just . . . solid.”

In less than a month, the Angels are discovering why the Dodgers kept Scioscia around for 13 years.

He is running this team like he once ran 1,395 games; smartly, calmly, but with a killer stare.

Not to mention the occasional chilling mound visit.

“He’s come out there once when it wasn’t like he was a manager, but a catcher, really chewing me out,” said Dickson, smiling. “Sometimes, you need that.”

After wilting under what they considered the harsh and demeaning cloud of Terry Collins, the entire team has apparently needed this.

A dugout run by a former player who spent a career looking into teammates’ eyes and patting them on the butt.

“The way he treats us, it makes you want to go above and beyond for him,” said Mo Vaughn. “He treats us like men.”

Added Troy Percival: “You know who’s in charge, but you’re relaxed about it. He’s a definite leader.”

It’s early, and given their opinion of Collins, this team would embrace any new manager who won’t burn them with cigarettes.

But even before Monday’s 10-4 win over the Detroit Tigers that evened their record at 10-10, the signs were unmistakable.

They make the routine plays--they were tied for the American League lead in fielding percentage.

Their catchers are an important part of that defense--they had combined to throw out 50% of potential base stealers while tying for the league lead with no passed balls.

They take smart chances--they led both leagues in stolen bases.

The relievers understand their roles--they have yet to lose when leading after seven innings.

“The guy is like standing in a hole over there, but he sees everything,” Vaughn said. “You will never walk up to him with a question about a play and hear him say he didn’t see it.”

Of course, his first season, Scioscia was blessed with two things that Collins never had in three seasons: a lineup unburdened by injuries and a clubhouse without Jim Edmonds.

It makes a difference that the names of the first six players in the Angel lineup are as constant as that black stopwatch strap flapping out of his back pocket.

But it also makes a difference that Scioscia, managing with far more fearlessness than one would expect from somebody with only one year of triple A on his managing resume, is just as constant.

“He’s quiet, but he’s always pushing, pushing, pushing,” Vaughn said. “He doesn’t yell, but you know when he gets mad. His eyebrows sort of come down. You see it and you say, ‘Oh no.’ ”

The old catcher is still blocking the plate.

Only sometimes, he does it in front of the mound.

Saturday in Tampa Bay was one of those times, in the bottom of the 10th inning of a tie game, with a runner on second and two out and Angel Kent Mercker on the mound.

Does the rookie manager bring in Percival?

Not in a tie game on the road, he doesn’t.

“He is a premier closer, and I’m not going to overwork him now and then lose him in September,” Scioscia said.

After Mercker gave up a game-winning homer to Bubba Trammell, Scioscia said the same thing to Percival.

“He told me that pennants are won in September, and that he didn’t want to burn me out,” Percival said. “Even though I wanted to pitch, I really appreciated hearing that, because I’ve been in situations where we’ve been burned out before.”

The average Angel fan would probably appreciate hearing their manager even dare to use the word “September.”

“If you’re not shooting for the moon, you’re not shooting high enough,” Scioscia said. “I’m not doing any of this stuff. These guys are believing and doing it themselves.”

Some might say that, at times, Scioscia does too much.

The winning run for Tampa Bay Sunday reached base when Fred McGriff poked a grounder down an unmanned third base line--Scioscia had pulled the infielders to the right on a switch.

Consulting charts and such, he does those things, and others. He pulls the infield in during early innings. He hits and runs in late innings with the winning run on base. He takes chances.

“You’ve got to try to win ballgames, you can’t try to cover yourself,” Scioscia said. “I’m going to be myself, and if it’s not going to work, I can live with it.”

For the time being, all of Angel land can live with it.

Now, if they can just get the old catcher one more pitcher . . .

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