Couch Coach Is Newest Dodger

You thought the Dodgers needed a power-hitting center fielder? A second baseman with range? Left-handed relief?

Silly! Fortunately for us, General Manager Fred Claire knows what’s missing from the lineup. Moving forthrightly to shore it up, Fred went right to the heart of the matter this week and signed a free agent he thinks can do more for the franchise than any of the above. Since Jose Canseco wasn’t available, he picked up the next best person he could find--a psychiatrist.

No team should be without one, and we take you now to the clubhouse of the major league team where the newest member, the eminent Viennese psychoanalyst, Dr. Sigmund Angstmacher, sporting a spade beard, a frock coat and a pair of spectacles held on with a ribbon is conducting a couch session with the club’s second baseman.

Angstmacher--”Zo, tell me, vy is it ve hate our mother, nicht wahr?”

Second Baseman--”Hate my mother! Are you some kind of a psycho?! I love my mother! Don’t I always go on TV to say ‘Hi, Mom!’ and wave my fingers? Don’t I send her a wire every Mother’s Day ‘M is for the million things she gave me?’ No, I don’t send it collect! I do everything for my mother! Just the other day I sent her a round-trip vacation ticket.”

Angstmacher--”To Hawaii?”

Second Baseman--”To Bakersfield. She has a cousin there. She doesn’t know anybody in Hawaii. Where would she stay?”

Angstmacher--”But it says here you batted .212. You must hate someone--your father, your second-grade teacher? Yourself?”

Second Baseman--”Well, I’m not too crazy about Frank Viola.”

Angstmacher--”Aha! Someone from your childhood! A memory you have repressed. He hurt you badly some time.”

Second Baseman--”I’ll say he did. I’m 0 for 80 against him lifetime.”

Angstmacher--”Can we get in touch with our feelings?”

Second Baseman--”I’d rather get in touch with his curveball.”

Angstmacher--”Can ve talk it oudt? Vy Viola? His is a figure of authority from your childhood?”

Second Baseman--”Nah! He’s a left-handed pitcher. I hate all left-handed pitchers. Regardless of race, creed or color.”

Angstmacher--”It’s not good to hate a class of human beings.”

Second Baseman--”Well, I’m not wild about right-handed pitchers, either. Dwight Gooden is no weekend in Acapulco, either.”

Angstmacher--You vill nefer hit ze curveball if you are a mass of conflicting emotions!”

Second Baseman--”I couldn’t hit the curveball if I were Mother Teresa. Anyway, the crowd hates me.”

Angstmacher--”Ah, paranoia! Vy is it you feel the crowd hates you?”

Second Baseman--”Mostly because they tell me.”

Angstmacher--”You imagine it. It’s all in your head!”

Second Baseman--”That’s what I thought they had you around here for. If it was in my ankle, Dr. Jobe could fix it.”

Angstmacher--”Vy vould ze crowd hate you?”

Second Baseman--”Because I’m not Steve Sax.”

Angstmacher--”Vy vould anyone vant you to be Steve Sex?”

Second Baseman--”He could hit the curveball, for one thing. He was the second baseman before I came. Every time I strike out--which is a lot--they yell, ‘Sax would of got a double!’ Every time I boot a ground ball they yell ‘Sax would of got two!’ It’s depressing.”

Angstmacher--”Ah, depression! Zat ve can fix! Ve make a Steve Sax rubber doll and ve hit it with canoe paddles! You vill feel better! You vont play better, just feel better. Who does zis Sex play for now?”

Second Baseman--”The Yankees.”

Angstmacher--”Donnerwetter! He’s suffered enough! Forget ze paddles! Next case! Ach, zo, vot is your namen, mein freund?”

Player--”They call me ‘Home Run’ Barker.”

Angstmacher--”Ah! Is goot nickname!”

Player--”Not so good--I’m a pitcher.”

Angstmacher--”A pitcher! You control the game!”

Player--”Well, if you consider 5-18 controlling the game. ‘Control’ is not exactly a word you would associate with me. ‘Home run’ is more like it. Followed closely by ‘Base-on-balls.’ I’m the only guy in the league they hope will only walk the batter.”

Angstmacher--”Gott in himmel! Vot seems to be ze trouble?”

Player--”Trouble! The trouble is Will Clark, Eric Davis, Andre Dawson, Ron Gant, Kevin Mitchell, Darryl Strawberry and Tony Gwynn. If these guys weren’t in the league, I’d be Cy Young.”

Angstmacher--”Who vas Cy Young?”

Player--”The world’s greatest pitcher. He never needed no psychiatrist.”

Angstmacher--”Perhaps you do need a psychiatrist.”

Player--”I need a fast outfield. And a ready bullpen.”

Angstmacher--”You are suffering from anxiety attacks.”

Player--”I am suffering from .300 hitters. I can’t get a .300 hitter out. I specialize in retiring .200 hitters and pitchers. The .300 hitters ring my gong.”

Angstmacher--”Vait a minute! Vot is your best pitch?”

Player--”The gopher ball. I can throw it at four different speeds. I have the 350-foot gopher, the 400-foot gopher and the My-God-where’s-that-going! gopher. I can throw them all in a pinch.”

Angstmacher--”Ve haf to start thinking of .300 hitters as .200 hitters and pitch accordingly.”

Player--”It’s no good for me to think of Barry Bonds as a .200 hitter. Now, if we can get Barry Bonds to think of himself as a .200 hitter. . . .”

Angstmacher--”Enough! I have to report to ze manager. Ach, zo, come in, sir.”

Manager--”Well, what’s the verdict, Professor?”

Angstmacher--”Ach, vot ve haf here is not a team, it’s a massive inferiority complex.”

Manager--”What produces an inferiority complex?”

Angstmacher--”Inferiority.”

Manager--”So, what do we do?”

Angstmacher--”Indeed. Your third baseman hates his mother. Your infield can’t hit the curveball and your pitchers can’t throw one, and your outfield can’t catch one.”

Manager--”What would Dr. Freud say is the answer?”

Angstmacher--”Fifth place I should judge.”

Manager--”Will free agency help?”

Angstmacher--”I dunno. How soon do zees guys become free agents?”