An L.A. Alou May Have Made a Big Difference

There is no way of knowing how different it would be for Felipe Alou and Jim Tracy -- and, yes, Kevin Malone and so many others -- if the then-manager of the Montreal Expos had made a different decision at the end of that 1998 season.

What we do know is that Alou, with those plane tickets for Los Angeles in hand and the job of Dodger manager having been accepted, opted to stay with the Expos, which meant that Davey Johnson became the Dodger manager, that Tracy came West to become his bench coach rather than remaining as Alou’s likely successor with the Expos, and that the chaos of Malone’s tenure as general manager ultimately cost him and Johnson their jobs, paving the way for Tracy’s appointment as manager and Dan Evans’ hiring as general manager.

We also know that even now, reflecting as manager of the San Francisco Giants, back in the city where he began his major league playing career 45 years ago, Alou says that the call he had to make to Malone and Dodger President Bob Graziano to tell them he wouldn’t be catching that plane “was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do” and was “very definitely a crossroads.”

A personal crossroads that became just that for others as well, including Malone and the organization he worked for, and there is one other thing we know because the charismatic Alou said he believes it totally, and that is this:

If Alou had come to L.A. with that three-year contract, he might have helped Malone -- a friend from their years together in the Montreal organization -- avoid the pitfalls that ultimately cost him his job and, it seems, his baseball career now that the former Dodger GM is on the outside looking in as vice president of development for Masters College.

“I definitely think Kevin would have done better if I had been there with him,” Alou said in the privacy of his office before the Giants and Dodgers renewed their rivalry.

“I know Kevin Malone, and I believe he’s a good baseball person, good evaluator and that in the right circumstances he can make good trades.

“I know that in Montreal I had a way of calming him, communicating with him and keeping him in control. I think a lot of the things he said and did and may have gotten him in trouble with the Dodgers ... well, I just think it would have been different for him if I had been there.”

For all of the respect with which he is held, Alou probably would have had to be a miracle worker if the self-described Dodger boy and new sheriff in town was going to avoid the combustible series of acts leading to his firing.

As it was, Alou said in reflection, his decision to stay in Montreal -- coming about two hours before he and wife Lucie were to leave for the airport -- had nothing to do with the “beautiful package” he was offered by the Dodgers but was the result of an 11th-hour house call in Montreal by two of the Expos’ then-minority owners and then-GM Jim Beattie.

They came calling with more money and a new contract, as well as an appeal to his emotions, insisting there would definitely be no new stadium in Montreal and no future for the team there if he left, and even though Alou says he knew there would be no stadium, no future, none of the financial support and stability he would have finally enjoyed in Los Angeles, “I didn’t want people saying, ‘Well, Felipe finally left and now the whole thing has collapsed,’ even though I knew it wouldn’t be my fault if it did.”

So Alou stayed, and the Montreal situation has indeed collapsed, and his own tenure ended after 53 games of the 2001 season and 27 years of single-minded loyalty to the Expo organization, and the thing that still infuriates him is that his players read it on the Internet before Jeffrey Loria, his third owner there, made any attempt to give him the word personally.

Finally summoned to the Expo offices, with the news already all over Canada and beyond, Alou walked in, dropped his season tickets and courtesy car keys on the desk of Loria’s son-in-law, then Expo president David Samson, and walked out. He has not talked to Loria or Samson since, and won’t.

“You meet all kinds of people in this business,” he said.

“Some are not as honest and top shelf as Bob Graziano.”

Some would have hesitated giving a three-year contract to a man soon to be 68, but if there is a question about his energy and passion, what was he doing at Pacific Bell Park Thursday at 11:30 a.m. preparing for a game that wouldn’t start for almost eight hours?

If there is a question about his energy and passion, why isn’t he home in Lake Worth, Fla., with Lucie and the two youngest of his 10 living children (he was married three times previously), fishing the Atlantic near his backdoor?

No, Lucie knew the flame was still burning and encouraged him to accept the San Francisco offer, and so he is back in a city second in familiarity to him only to Santo Domingo in his native Dominican Republic, back with the organization whose doors he helped open for Orlando Cepeda and Juan Marichal and his brothers, Matty and Jesus, sitting now in an office barren of the candles, soft jazz and photographs that were part of Dusty Baker’s decorating aura.

Alou brings his own aura and presence to a veteran team that includes Marquis Grissom, who first played for Alou in the Expo system and says, “When you think of where he’s been and what he’s done in his career, you can’t help but have respect for the dude.”

Tracy would agree. The Dodger manager says that when there is a pitch to be made, when the interaction between pitcher, catcher and hitter is to be deciphered, there is none better than Alou. Tracy was Alou’s bench coach for four years in Montreal, the man Alou had hoped would replace him if he left to become the Dodger manager, the man he urged to accept the coaching offer under Johnson.

Alou knew there would be more money, more future for Tracy in Los Angeles, and now, as mentor and disciple battle from opposing dugouts in the renewal of the Giants /Dodgers rivalry, the memory of that 1998 crossroads is vivid for both.