Scioscia Faces Many Challenges as Angel Manager, but He May Be the Right Man for the Job

TEMPE, Ariz. —  The first incident was in New Orleans in mid-July, when a botched relay infuriated two Albuquerque Duke players. They were ready to duke it out in the clubhouse after the game.

Mike Scioscia, Albuquerque’s manager last season, ordered the feuding players into his office and, within minutes, had mediated a reconciliation.

The second incident occurred in Edmonton in late July, when bantering during batting practice turned into heated words in the outfield.

Two Dukes dropped their gloves and were about to make like De La Hoya versus Trinidad when Scioscia, who was hitting fungoes in the infield, took notice.

“He sprinted out there so fast he might have pulled a hamstring,” said Matt Herges, a Dodger pitcher who played most of 1999 at Albuquerque. “He stepped in, broke it up, and after the game he made them make up in the clubhouse and shake hands in front of the team.”

Scioscia, who is about to embark on his first season as a big league manager with the Angels, smiles at the postscript of that second dispute.

“The next day,” Scioscia said, “those two guys were eating lunch together.”

Maybe Scioscia will be a good fit for the Angels. He has only one season of managerial experience, and at 41 he’s the second-youngest manager in the big leagues, but if there is one thing this Angel team has shown it could use, it’s a firefighter/peacemaker.

The frustration over injuries and mounting losses turned the Angel clubhouse into a den of disharmony last season, players turning against Manager Terry Collins, then against themselves, the final result being the forced resignations of Collins and General Manager Bill Bavasi.

Every Angel player has vowed this season will not be a repeat of 1999.

“I’m a firm believer that 1999 was an aberration,” shortstop Gary DiSarcina said. “Just as you have career highs and lows, last year was a career low as a team.”

But the facts are that the core of that team has returned virtually intact, injuries and nine-game losing streaks do happen, and old wounds can reopen.

But maybe in Scioscia, a former all-star Dodger catcher who seems much more relaxed than his predecessor but vows to be firm when needed, the Angels have a manager who can guide them through the volatile situations.

“It’s no different handling a scuffle in triple A or the big leagues,” Scioscia said. “You can’t overreact. I’ve seen a lot of fights in dugouts and clubhouses over the years, these things can flare up.

“They’re not something you enjoy, but they’re easily dealt with. These guys are warriors, they want to compete, and sometimes that breeds these situations. But you just have to talk them out, turn them into nonissues, and sometimes they can bring you closer.”

Most players believe that how a manager relates and communicates with his players, how he motivates and disciplines them daily, is more important than knowing when to hit and run or when to take a pitcher out.

Players don’t need to like their manager, but they do need to respect him, and they need to be treated with respect. In the brief time he played for him last season, Herges could tell these were Scioscia’s strengths.

“He would never swear at a guy during a game,” Herges said. “If I’m acting like an idiot, I deserve to get jumped hard, and he would, but he’d never verbally abuse a guy in the dugout. He’d wait until after the game, call you to his office, and you’d square it out. It was a great thing to do.”

Several Angels complained about Collins’ occasional dugout outbursts, and the high-strung Collins tried to tone down last season. But Collins had another shortcoming he had no control over--he had never played in the big leagues.

Neither did Jim Leyland, and he was a pretty good manager, but for some reason, this seemed to create a credibility gap between Collins and some players in Anaheim.

Scioscia, on the other hand, played 13 big league seasons and made the all-star team twice. He helped the Dodgers win World Series championships in 1981 and 1988 and had a reputation as a hard-nosed and fearless catcher, one who blocked the plate with such proficiency his nickname was “Iron Mike.”

This may not matter to a player such as Darin Erstad, who said, “I can play for anybody. . . . I honestly don’t care whether a manager played in the big leagues or not.” But several players, when asked about Scioscia, cited his big league experience as a benefit.

“It’s instant credibility,” catcher Todd Greene said. “He didn’t just play for a long time, he was a good player, he won two World Series titles and played for an organization with a lot of history and tradition.”

That same organization essentially discarded Scioscia last fall. Scioscia served as the Dodgers’ minor league catching coordinator in 1995-96, he was the Dodger bench coach in 1997-98, and he led Albuquerque to a 65-74 record in 1999.

Though Dodger General Manager Kevin Malone did not admit it, it became clear last September that Scioscia would not be asked to return, so he announced that month he would be leaving.

“It wasn’t clear-cut what my role would be in the organization, where I would be headed,” Scioscia said. “It was an organization in transition, and I thought there would be better opportunities elsewhere.”

Scioscia had an offer to manage the Rockies’ triple-A team in Colorado Springs when new General Manager Bill Stoneman picked him over six other finalists to manage the Angels.

Many felt the Angels, who passed on more expensive candidates such as Phil Garner and Don Baylor and gave Scioscia a three-year contract for a little under $1 million, were more concerned with dollars than sense. Some questioned why they would hire someone with such little experience.

But when asked why he picked Scioscia, Stoneman said, “Why not? To me, one of the most refreshing things you can do is give an opportunity to someone you feel is talented and will do a good job. Money had nothing to do with this. I really think this one will work out for the Angels for many years.”

Few Angel managers work very long--for them. Fifteen full-time managers preceded Scioscia, and not since the first, Bill Rigney (1961-69), has one lasted for more than four consecutive seasons.

So, what is No. 16 like? Scioscia is a simple, straightforward kind of guy who grew up in the middle-class Philadelphia suburb of Morton, Pa., with a great love of food, sports and his Italian heritage.

Seven houses on his street were occupied by relatives, and the touch football games he played there as a kid often turned to tackle. Scioscia loved basketball and baseball and street hockey, and when the weather got cold, he’d hose down the driveway so it would freeze and they could play ice hockey.

Even at 12, Scioscia gave glimpses of the kind of big league player he would be.

“When you grew up in Philly, and I don’t know why, but it was a badge of honor for every Little League catcher to block the plate,” Scioscia said. “You just did it. You refined the technique as you got older, but the basic premise was that it was the last way to stop a run.”

Though he was a first-round pick out of Springfield High and signed with the Dodgers in 1976, he believes the reason he succeeded in the big leagues was that he got the most out of his limited athletic ability. A .259 hitter, Scioscia was known much more for his defensive prowess.

His career was heavily influenced by former catchers Johnny Roseboro, Roy Campanella and Del Crandall, and he played his entire Dodger career under the boisterous and effervescent Tom Lasorda.

Scioscia will incorporate bits and pieces of each in his own managing style, but you won’t be able to draw comparisons, because Scioscia promises he will be himself.

“I’m not going to alter my personality,” he said. “You look at all the managers, they all have different styles. Some are extreme disciplinarians, some are more lax. Some have very rigid ideas and programs, some are more flexible. It wouldn’t serve me well to be a chameleon.”

Scioscia probably will be less of a disciplinarian than most. He has four simple rules: Be on time, practice hard, prepare for games and play hard. If a player violates those rules, he will be dealt with harshly.

Otherwise, Scioscia, who is described by Herges and Dodger catcher Paul LoDuca as “a players’ manager,” believes players will respond positively to freedom and responsibility.

“You have to find the link to a player’s passion for the game,” Scioscia said. “You have to make him excited to come to the park and compete, and for most, that’s easy. Some may take more effort. If you get them excited about playing the game hard, players will instill that sense of discipline.

“Communication is huge. You have to listen to guys. That will avoid a bunch of problems. There will be times they’re not happy with what I’m telling them, but if you shoot straight with them, they’ll deal with it.”

Scioscia’s boundless optimism has already rubbed off on the Angels. Though the team appears to lack the starting pitching to compete for the division title or pennant, Scioscia declared on the first day of spring training that he’s approaching 2000 as a “contending year,” not a rebuilding year.

“There’s nothing about me that’s false optimism,” he said. “I won’t try to paint a picture that’s not there, but I’m truly optimistic about this team.”

Closer Troy Percival, who said over the winter he wouldn’t mind being traded to a contender and didn’t want to go through another rebuilding year, now thinks the Angels can compete.

The Angels, coming off a disastrous 70-92 season, probably will be picked to finish last in the American League West, but maybe that’s exactly what Scioscia needs.

“He’s stepping into a no-lose situation,” DiSarcina said. “We expect to win, he expects us to win, but no one else on the planet does. He played a long time, he saw the game from behind the plate, which is a whole different perspective, and that experience will help. I think he’ll do fine.”