Tracy, Scioscia Manage to Uphold Legacy of Alston

Jim Tracy grew up in Hamilton, Ohio, within 10 miles of Walter Alston’s home in Darrtown.

Tracy never met Alston, but Tracy’s dad, an accountant by trade, a baseball man by passion, told his son about the tall, elegant man who was an architect of a baseball dynasty.

“I heard about Mr. Alston all my life,” Tracy said. “What my dad told me was that Mr. Alston was a gentleman. That he was a quiet leader and that he commanded respect because of his knowledge and his skill and his temperament. That’s what made him a great manager, my dad told me.”

It is too soon to call Tracy a great manager.

But through Gary Sheffield’s ugly spring training ultimatums; through the baleful tale of general manager Kevin Malone’s dismissal or resignation or whatever; as Tracy watched almost all the important parts of his lineup pull, strain, stretch, pop or tear a body part and limp off to the disabled list, Tracy has crossed his arms, marked his lineup card and kept his team competitive.

It is a lot like what Mike Scioscia has done for the Angels--kept a clubhouse upbeat, accepted whatever problems have come along with a smile and a determination to teach and keep a hard-headed optimism.

The Dodgers and Angels played at Edison Field Friday night. The crowd was as interested in keeping up with the Lakers’ score as with the baseball game.

Neither team is having a tremendous season. Neither team is having a horrible season.

Considering all the injuries--the wreckage includes starting pitchers Kevin Brown and Alan Ashby--the Dodgers are staying close to Arizona in the National League West and are near the top of the wild-card chase.

Considering first baseman Mo Vaughn and his big bat and his big personality were lost for the season even before it started, and considering the lack of a quality designated hitter, the Angels are doing well to flirt with .500.

And consider this. Both teams are managed by men who were criticized as being inexperienced, incomprehensible choices when they were hired.

Angel fans were angry their team turned to a Dodger. Some felt betrayed. Some thought it was just another cheap move by the team. After all, Scioscia had never managed a major league team and had not been mentioned as a strong candidate for other managerial jobs.

Scioscia has been the perfect choice for the Angels.

Dodger fans were angry when their team turned to an anonymous bench coach, a man most wouldn’t have recognized unless he had come to their front door and introduced himself.

“Yes, I heard it a lot,” Tracy says. “Jim who?”

Three hours before Friday’s game, Tracy was giving tidbits on what makes each member of his team tick to Angel broadcaster Rex Hudler.

After speaking about several players, Tracy stopped for a moment, then said, “Most important thing of all, they are good guys, good people, good in our clubhouse. We have a whole clubhouse full of that. And it’s not by accident.”

It is the same thing Scioscia has said about his players. Last year, his rookie season, Scioscia needed to bring some sanity, discipline and spirit into a place where there had been cliques, dissension and enmity.

Tracy and Scioscia took different routes to their spots in the dugout. Scioscia was an all-star catcher, tough-minded and well-respected. Tracy was a career minor-leaguer who didn’t win championships or play in All-Star games.

It doesn’t matter, though, if a manager was a star player or a scrub. Heck, Alston struck out in his only major league at-bat.

There is a secret ingredient that makes a manager. Finding a person with this secret ingredient is not a science. It is a feeling. So when teams like the Angels and the Dodgers take a chance on a Scioscia or a Tracy, it is our inclination to scoff and wonder if the hirers have a clue.

Sometimes they do.

Tracy was late for his pregame radio show, but he continued to tell a little about himself and about how proud he is of the Dodgers. He explained that he had accepted a scholarship to play football at Xavier. But then the school dropped football and his scholarship, so Tracy went to little Marietta College, up the Ohio River and played baseball.

There was no urgency in his manner, even as a public relations man waited, urging with his eyes for Tracy to finish one interview and move on. Tracy was the man in charge of this time in his office in the visiting clubhouse, of his pre-game schedule, of the men in his clubhouse.

It is how Scioscia arrived in Anaheim last year--with confidence, a sense of himself, and feeling for what makes 25 men into a team.

While Tommy Lasorda is “Mr. Dodger,” it is Alston who managed the Dodgers more years and won more games while working on one-year contracts. Tracy knows all this. His father told him. Scioscia knows it too. Both men knew Walter Alston. Both are like him in many ways.

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