Strike Bruises Will Heal

Baseball, the institution, can’t be ruined.

No matter how hard we try.

Baseball, the institution, is very lucky.

On a day of lazy fun, of delicious anticipation, on a day when Angel fans could look with hope toward the second half of the season, could rub their hands and anticipate great coming series at Edison Field against Seattle and Oakland, the Yankees and Red Sox, when they could dare think of division titles and wild-card playoff spots, Angel fans didn’t want to think about not coming back.

Today in Chicago, Major League Baseball Players Assn. executives and team representatives will meet. There may be a vote to set a strike date, possibly for some time in September. Maybe on Oct. 1 so that the playoffs and World Series are threatened.

If there is another baseball strike, Vladimir Quinn, a 42-year-old father and maintenance worker from Phelan, will bring 6-year-old Krystal and 4-year-old Boo back to the ballpark.

“It’s entertainment,” Quinn said.

Daniel Helfant, 8, of Redondo Beach, had an easy answer to the question. Would he come back to see these players again if there is a strike? “Yes,” Daniel said. Daniel’s father shrugged and added, “He’s too young to get political.”

Tim Salmon, Angel right fielder, thinks baseball is indestructible.

“It might be five years or 10 years or even 15 years,” Salmon says, “but the fans will be back. It’s a great game. If you like the game of baseball, you can’t stop being a fan.”

It was Troy Glaus jersey day at Edison Field. Little girls had on the big shirt. It would flap at their ankles and trip them up. Little boys had on the big shirt. They would roll up the sleeves and try to hit big home runs, just like Glaus, at the home run game out on the concourse.

“The bad thing about a strike,” Jimmy Evers said, “is that I’m just getting my son interested in the game. He’ll pay attention to something else if there is no baseball.”

Evers, 32, pointed to his 10-year-old son, Tony, who was wearing the Glaus jersey and taking whacks at the concourse game. “He doesn’t care about the issues,” he said. “Neither do I. Owners have money. Players have money. I don’t care how they divide up the money. Just play ball.”

If there is another baseball strike, it will be for good reasons. That’s what Angel pitcher Jarrod Washburn says.

While some of his teammates say they try to ignore the labor issues, try to block out negotiation issues, Washburn reads. He listens. He learns. He cares.

“There are issues worth striking over,” Washburn said. “Owners want to take away things. We can’t go backwards. It’s a matter of principle.”

It always is, isn’t it?

The owners always think they are saving the beautiful game from ruination. The players always think they are fighting for their working-place rights, rights that weren’t granted for so many years.

Ted Williams, who missed prime years of his baseball career because he was fighting wars for freedom, would not have been able to march himself off a baseball field to fight for more money for himself. Williams adored the game and his time in it. Owners took advantage of that.

“Look,” Salmon said, “the players now don’t want to be the ones to give back what other players have fought so hard to earn over the last 20 years, guys like Curt Flood.”

Said Washburn: “Steel workers strike. Airline pilots strike. People come back after the strike and fly.”

But those people have to fly. Baseball fans don’t have to watch baseball games. “No,” Washburn said, “they don’t. And maybe they’ll learn they don’t have to. But if you love the game, you will come back. I believe that.”

That sounds like the arrogance of a young man who gets to make millions to play the game. Of course he loves it. Of course he would come back. But how can Washburn speak for the working man who might spend $100 on a Sunday afternoon for the tickets, the parking, the hot dogs and sodas?

Quinn speaks for that man.

“It is entertainment, pure and simple,” he said. “I can’t speak for others but I would come back after a strike.”

Quinn isn’t a fan of the Angels. He is a fan of the game. Of sports. Of the competition and the atmosphere. He’ll go to minor league games near Phelan, he’ll come to Edison Field.

Quinn’s children sat on the floor eating ice cream. Each wore a Glaus jersey.

Glaus says he has no comment on the labor situation. “If a strike happens,” Glaus said, “it happens.”

The kids wearing his shirt wouldn’t understand that. They think Glaus is the luckiest guy around.

Garret Anderson said he’s not concerned about a strike. “What’s going to happen is going to happen,” he said.

Except for one thing. “I’m not concerned for me,” Anderson said. “But I am concerned for the fans, the people who actively pay money to support the game. There will definitely be a point where they are not going to come back. Definitely.”

Anderson brought up the fans. He wasn’t asked. He wanted to speak for them. He is one of the few, among owners and players, to do so. Maybe someone will listen to Anderson. Probably they won’t.

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Diane Pucin can be reached at diane.pucin@latimes.com.