Sandy Koufax is making a pitch, and that’s really saying something

As you might’ve guessed, the newspaper never includes me in its Olympic coverage for fear of causing an international incident.

But I have my own local concerns. Less than two weeks to go before Sandy Koufax might walk off the Nokia Theatre L.A. Live stage, and the daughter is making the point almost daily now, “He’s not going to find you funny, Dad.”

Maybe if she had a job, she’d bother someone else. Or a husband.

But it is worrisome, Koufax’s former roommate, Dick Tracewski, wanting to know if we had to “chloroform” Koufax to get him to appear Feb. 27.

We were hoping, of course, to land Frank McCourt, but he chooses not to speak to me. So we went with our second choice, a guy who doesn’t speak to anyone.

As you know, Koufax has been missing for the better part of 40 years, and while I’ve been advised he’s going to claim he’s no recluse, he’s agreed to talk in front of 6,000 people, with Joe Torre occasionally butting in.

The key will be to keep him there as long as possible, the alternative listening to Torre tell us again how the Dodgers failed to beat the Phillies in the playoffs.

Now I’ve read pretty much every word written about Koo-Foo, as many of his friends call him, but no mention what Koo-Foo might’ve nicknamed his foo-foo dog.

The pitcher’s stats read like fiction, 111 wins and 34 losses over a five-year period, 40 career shutouts and ending a holdout to settle for a $125,000 salary.

The Dodgers recently signed pitcher Vicente Padilla to a one-year deal for $5 million. He’s probably a much better hitter than Koufax, who had a career average of .097.

If the guy wants a love fest, he’s come to the wrong stage.

One year, Koufax won 26 games, 25 of them complete, and knowing that Norm Sherry, another former Koufax f roommate, says “he never likes praise for himself,” then this Koufax quitter needs to explain why he didn’t have what it takes to make it 26 complete games.

“Golly, I don’t know,” says a worried Sherry when I suggest how Koufax might be teased.

“He’s not the kind of guy you tease,” says Tracewski.

“Oh, my,” says Sweet Lou Johnson, who scored the only run in Koufax’s perfect game. “I know this, if he decides to do something like he has for Joe, he’ll do it and be great.

“And don’t you think he’s got a lot to say. I was at the last one [Scully & Wooden For The Kids], but this one will top it.”

I use that quote only because tickets remain through ticketmaster.com for Koufax & Torre, which is understandable because most of the people who saw them play are probably dead.

In truth, of course, there’s no way Koufax & Torre tops Scully & Wooden, unless Koufax is really on top of his game, and the kook doesn’t talk.

I say “kook,” and lovingly, of course, but from what I’ve read he used to keep his telephone in the oven so he wouldn’t hear it ring, and took his trophies out of Dodger Stadium and buried them somewhere.

How would you like to get your hands on that treasure map?

Maybe he’s not a kook and he takes this chance to separate fact from fiction. Maybe he just wants to help Torre raise money to put safe rooms in L.A. schools for kids who have been abused.

A recent Torre visit to Patt Morrison’s radio show drew callers wanting Torre to know he wasn’t alone, that they had been abused too, one man talking about the struggle of being abused and now doing everything he can to keep himself from doing the same to his daughter.

“It’s all about ending the cycle of abuse,” Torre told the man. “I understand.”

Maybe Koufax is just more like Scully & Wooden than we know. Scully & Wooden have this misconception they are just ordinary guys, and they do not like to be fawned over.

That’s why the geezers agreed to appear with the Page 2 teaser, and while there’s an occasional e-mail that still arrives complaining about the irreverent treatment afforded Scully & Wooden, the two old coots who matter the most got it.

Scully is going to sit down this week to discuss on video what went into his incredible, poetic call of Koufax’s perfect game. An added Feb. 27 treat.

“Joey Amalfitano was out No. 26 in the perfect game,” says Tracewski, “and as he walked back to the dugout he passed Harvey Kuenn and told him, ‘Don’t go up there. It’s not fun.’ ”

If you read the books about Koufax, he’s smart, complicated and contradictory, competitive as any Kobe glare might suggest, thoughtful, obviously a die-hard friend, and fascinating.

“He’s just an ordinary guy,” Tracewski says. “But I have to admit, I’m still amazed at what he did. He led the league in earned-run average five-straight years -- that’s like DiMaggio’s hitting streak.”

Today’s youngsters probably have never heard of DiMaggio or Koufax, for that matter, but is there a better example of someone keeping sports and achievement in perspective than Koufax?

Or is he just a kook?

“You will have so much to talk to Sandy about,” Tracewski says.

“You’re going to see the personality that I know so well. People are going to love him, and he’s going to laugh a lot.”

t.j.simers@latimes.com