Alien Invasion Is a Minor Problem

It’s 5:35 p.m. and still 111 degrees, hot enough to grill a Dodger Dog on the metal bleachers at Cashman Field.

A 36-year-old journeyman knuckleball pitcher sporting a cap with an alien head on it takes the mound for the Las Vegas 51s as the smattering of ticket-holders brave enough to stand the heat fan themselves with scorecards.

Just your typical summer day at the home of the Dodgers’ new triple-A affiliate.

When Las Vegas couldn’t persuade the Dodgers to move their spring training site here, getting the organization’s top minor league club to set up shop in Sin City seemed like a pretty nice consolation prize.

But the Dodgers’ presence has failed to create the type of excitement expected since the move was announced last fall. While a new team name and identity have spurred record franchise merchandising sales, sparse attendance, stifling heat, a less-than-stellar performance and upheaval in the parent club have made the honeymoon period especially brief.

“There have been some growing pains,” said Don Logan, team president and general manager. “But I think generally now, everybody is having fun with it. It was done to create more fun and avenues to have more fun.”

What’s in a Name?

After ditching a 28-year relationship with the Albuquerque Dukes--they were sold to a group in Portland, Ore., and moved there--the Dodgers signed a four-year-deal with the Las Vegas Stars. Although that name had stuck for 18 years for the top farm team of the San Diego Padres, a change was ordained.

There was speculation that Mandalay Sports Entertainment, which owns 90% of the 51s--the morning newspaper, the Las Vegas Review-Journal, reportedly owns the other 10%--would name the triple-A team after the parent club, and that players would wear interlocking LV symbols on their caps, resembling the Dodgers’ interlocked LA. That nod to tradition, so the thinking went, would help owners to cash in on the Dodger mystique and promote the team to the more than 10 million Southern California residents who visited Las Vegas last year.

Instead, Mandalay executives called the club the 51s--a name inspired by the top-secret military base known as Area 51, about 100 miles north of Las Vegas, which, legend holds, houses aliens and their spaceships. The team outfitted everyone from the players to the beer vendors and ticket takers in an alien motif in an attempt to cash in on marketing opportunities.

Weekly letters to the editor blasted the new identify. Dodger management, whose control over the team is limited to player personnel issues, also questioned the decision.

“I don’t like the name,” said Dodger senior vice president Tom Lasorda. “I would have liked to have seen the Las Vegas Dodgers, that’s what I would have liked to have seen. I don’t even know what the hell a 51 is. What is it?”

When told, Lasorda sneered, “If it’s a secret military base, then how the hell do people know about it?”

While some say Las Vegas has missed opportunities for Dodger tie-ins, it has capitalized on the Los Angeles color scheme, putting red numbers at the bottom right of players’ jerseys.

The team logo, a bulbous gray alien head with rows of baseball stitches down its cranium, makes up the patch on a 51 cap. Las Vegas outfielder Tony Mota said the players were initially reluctant to wear the cartoonish figure.

“The first day we were like, ‘Whoa, hold on, we can’t be wearing this stuff,’ ” he said.

But fans took to the logo immediately, and, slowly, so have the players.

Sales in the Las Vegas merchandise shop have improved 65% and through June, the 51 cap was the top selling minor league cap in the Star Struck catalog.

Logan simply smiles when asked of the heat the team has taken, saying the color scheme should suffice.

“I think, really, the only way to tie it together is the look,” he said. “I always thought it was goofy when Albuquerque came here, guys wearing red tops or yellow tops, white pants and blue shoes.”

Walking around Cashman Field, though, there are few clues as to the 51s’ parent club. Sure, the occasional Dodger cap is worn by fans and, for $3.50, you can buy what is called a Dodger Dog at concession stands.

Otherwise, you’re in a different world . . . by design.

Is Darth Vader on First?

The stadium’s concourse pays homage not to Dodger Hall of Famers or even former Las Vegas Stars who went on to big league All-Star careers, such as Tony Gwynn and Roberto and Sandy Alomar.

Instead, marketing gurus have chosen to honor celluloid aliens.

The Cashman Field walk of fame celebrates the likes of Yoda, the Jedi master as shortstop, apparently using mind tricks to deke baserunners; E.T., the extraterrestrial catcher, and ALF, the ‘80s pop-culture icon turned left fielder.

The team mascot is Cosmo, a droopy-eared creature with eyes at the end of long stems who comes from Dodger heritage, so to speak. His bio lists him as being a native of planet Koufaxia, as in Sandy Koufax-ia.

The 51s recently had a “Star Wars” passion play between innings of a game when Darth Vader and his Imperial Stormtroopers, in full costume, invaded Cashman Field in an attempt to capture Cosmo.

The 51s also have plans to put a “crashed UFO” above the right-field wall and have it light up and blow smoke after a 51 home run.

“One of the things you do as a minor league club . . . You want to have your own identity, and we’ve got that obviously,” Logan said. “We’ve got our own name, we’ve got a different company, we’ve got a different way of presenting the game, all of the entertainment going on out there. That’s something you can do.”

Opening day at Cashman Field featured exploding Dodger Dogs. As stadium workers shot the wrapped hot dogs into the stands with a slingshot, the wrapping and buns exploded in midair, showering fans with the shrapnel while the wieners hit like wayward cruise missiles.

“I understand that 51 gig and it was kind of intriguing to me, but I like that stuff,” Las Vegas Manager Rick Sofield said. “Change is difficult for all of us. The older we get, the more difficult it is to change. In the big picture, if the merchandise is doing well, I think it’s probably been a pretty good idea.”

But It’s a Dry Heat

Dennis Springer, the journeyman knuckleballer, said it was 117 degrees in Las Vegas the day he arrived from double A. He refers to the desert heat and vices of Sin City as a decided home-field advantage.

“The guys who live here and are used to the gambling and the night life can say, “That’s our 10th man because we’re used to it and they’re not,’ ” he said. “A lot of teams will come in here and they don’t want to take batting practice and they’re lazy.”

The heat has always taken its toll here, both on players and attendance.

When it’s 111 degrees at first pitch, it’s hotter during batting practice. Sofield has had to rearrange his pregame regimen, taking small groups out in shifts, rather than having the whole team standing around under the sun while shorts-wearing batters take their cuts.

When the Dodgers got involved, Cashman Field underwent some fan-friendly changes.

Three new rows of seats were added behind home plate, along with a new party zone for group rentals, complete with a pool and deck inspired by Phoenix’s Bank One Ballpark.

Attendance, however, has fallen short of expectations. And not only because the pool has yet to open because of health permit snafus.

When the Dodger affiliation was announced, Las Vegas officials predicted more than 30 sellouts at 18-year-old Cashman Field, which has a capacity of 9,334.

Entering their final four-game home stand of the season, which began Thursday, the 51s had sold out 15 games, compared to 18 all last season.

The 51s’ average attendance of 4,490 entering Thursday was only 12 more than last year and ranked 11th in the 16-team Pacific Coast League.

“Who in Vegas is really going to go to a baseball game?” mused Dodger reliever Jeff Williams, who has spent more than two months with the 51s. “I guess it just shows you why there’s no major league baseball in Vegas. There’s just too many other things to do there.”

Where Are the Prospects?

There are other theories about lagging attendance.

Some say apathy toward the team represents a backlash against increased ticket and concession prices, and the alien marketing campaign. Others claim it’s hard to get excited about the Dodgers because their games are not shown here on television.

Many point to the on-field product.

The Dodgers’ farm system, which produced four consecutive National League rookies of the year from 1979-82 and five more from 1992-96, is a shambles.

It was recently ranked 28th among 30 teams by Baseball America and the 51s’ roster consists mostly of fringe major leaguers, rather than legitimate prospects.

Las Vegas’ best player is Phil Hiatt, 32, who is threatening to win the PCL’s triple crown. In 108 games, the infielder entered Thursday with a .327 average, 41 home runs and 93 runs batted in.

But in his first major league action since 1995--he spent three weeks with the Dodgers in April--Hiatt struggled more than Pedro Serrano of “Major League” with the curveball, batting .182 with 13 strikeouts in 33 at-bats.

At the All-Star break, sixteen of the 28 players on the 51s’ active roster and disabled list were 27 or older.

“You want to put a good, competitive team on the field,” Logan said. “But with the Dodgers being crushed with injuries this year, you have to have good, competent players ready to come in and fill the void while they get healthy.”

A Tremor in the Force

At times during the first half of the season, the 51s had the look and feel of a rudderless (space)ship.

Expectations were high after the Dukes went 86-58 and won the PCL’s Central Division title by 11 games. But the 51s stumbled out of the gate this season, losing five of their first six games, and they were 10 games under .500 as late as June 13.

Las Vegas has since found its groove and, despite its 64-68 record on Thursday, the 51s were in a second-place tie in the PCL’s South Division, 3 1/2 games behind the Sacramento River Cats, the Oakland Athletics’ triple-A affiliate.

Off the field, there has also been unrest.

Former Dodger general manager Kevin Malone, who resigned under pressure in April, and former assistant GM Bill Geivett, who left to take a job with the Colorado Rockies, were the point men in making the affiliation switch from Albuquerque.

With neither in the fold, Logan has been playing catch-up.

“I didn’t know any of the other people,” Logan said. “When they decided to make Dave Wallace the [interim general manager], I mean, I know Dave from when he was the pitching coach at Albuquerque.”

Wallace came back to the Dodgers last off-season as special assistant to the GM after three seasons as the New York Mets’ pitching coach and had intended to focus his energies on the Dodgers’ minor league operations.

“Everything that I hear--and again, I’m not that close to it, I’ve been there a couple of times to see games--but everything that we’re hearing is real positive, especially from a fan standpoint,” Wallace said of the Dodgers being in Las Vegas.

Once a Dodger general manager is hired this off-season, provided it’s not him, Wallace will return to his post as a liaison with minor league operations.

“In any relationship, the more time you spend with somebody or the more you work with somebody, the better you get to know them . . . “ Sofield said, “But right now, I feel like this is home.”

Even if it’s 111 degrees at first pitch.