Baker unfazed as managerial musical chairs plays out around him
By JIM LITKE
AP Sports Writer
October 27, 2002
ANAHEIM, Calif. (AP) -- He could still win it all, walk away and start over somewhere else.
Lots of guys say they could.
Dusty Baker really might. Like the toothpick the Giants manager never stops chewing, he is ready to relocate in a heartbeat.
The only thing that changed direction Saturday night, though, was the World Series, as the Angels rallied from five runs down to win 6-5, setting up a Game 7.
``One thing about this club,'' Baker said, ``it just seems like it never comes easy. We knew it was going to be a tough day today.''
Baker doesn't scare easily. Beginning over in a new town with a new team wouldn't faze him. Others have already proved that. Phil Jackson said goodbye to the Chicago Bulls and revived a dynasty in Los Angeles. Jimmy Johnson walked out on owner Jerry Jones in Dallas and steadied the Miami Dolphins ship before retiring to his own yacht in the Florida keys.
Besides, second chances have been on Baker's mind a lot, ever since a bout with cancer gave a man already blessed with perspective something more to think about. Maybe that's why, as a World Series title moved within reach, job security remained way down on Baker's list.
``I see my son, I see my wife, I see a lot of things for me to live for,'' he said. ``Why am I going to worry about little stuff like this, really?''
Even as Baker spoke, the managerial version of musical chairs was speeding up around him. Former Seattle skipper Lou Piniella, one of the first guys to spot leadership qualities in Baker, will probably land in Tampa Bay. Art Howe, formerly of Oakland, hooked up with the New York Mets. The A's likely will promote coach Ken Macha to replace Howe.
But none of this makes much of a dent in Baker's thinking. He played almost 20 seasons, most of them in Atlanta and Los Angeles, and managed the last 10 in San Francisco. Baker knows a man does not succeed that long without help. On the verge of his own biggest accomplishment, he is more concerned with honoring debts than worrying about the future.
``Roy Campanella, Joe Black, Jim Gilliam,'' Baker began, running off names from the Dodgers organization. ``Those guys are like special counsel to me. There are other guys that helped me along the way.''
He says he can talk all day and not run out of names.
``Juan Marichal, Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Orlando Cepeda, Jim Davenport and Mike McCormick,'' Baker continued, remembering his time in San Francisco.
Around the time Baker's playing days ended, a Dodger executive named Al Campanis said on ``Nightline'' that he believed blacks lacked the necessities to become managers. Baker has never been afraid to speak his mind and his heart wasn't set on returning to the field. But like a lot of people, he wondered how pervasive that sentiment was in baseball's front offices. Then he and Giants general manager Al Rosen sat down to talk.
``I told him I would like to be his assistant and, potentially, be a general manager someday. He told me I would be better suited for the field. I didn't know to take that as a compliment,'' Baker recalled.
``He said, ``No, it's a compliment. I've seen how you conduct yourself as a player, how guys gravitate toward you.'' He told me all the right things to kind of get me.''
By 1993, Rosen's hunch and Baker's hard work were validated. In his first season running the Giants, he led them to a second-place finish and collected the first of three manager-of-the-year awards. But he's also had his share of postseason heartbreaks.
``I don't think I have any postseason ghosts,'' Baker said.
None as a manager, anyway.
But it still haunts Baker that in the 1981 Series with the Dodgers, he could hardly hold a bat after injuring his hand in a fight with some Montreal Expos fans after a game. The strange thing is that current Anaheim manager Mike Scioscia, who was a teammate in Los Angeles back then, remembers Baker's ability to get along with people as one of his strengths.
``He's an incredible communicator,'' Scioscia said. ``I think his record speaks for itself, as far as what he's accomplished.''
And yet, despite leading this wildcard entry to the World Series, and despite keeping moody Barry Bonds happy, combative Jeff Kent content, and his pitching staff more productive than it looks on paper, Baker still has no guarantee from Giants boss Peter Magowan that he will be back next season in San Francisco.
Magowan praised Baker lavishly before Game 6, but admitted, ``Basically, it's up to him. If he wants to seek his fortune elsewhere,'' Magowan said, ``it's a free country.''
Wherever he lands, Baker has made it clear he won't come cheaply. He says he doesn't intend to ``break the bank'' -- meaning the $6 million a year Joe Torre got from the Yankees -- ``but I want to be near the bank.''
Baker is a great one for dropping messages and letting others wrestle with the meaning. When reporters noticed he was wearing his championship ring lately and asked why, Baker laughed.
``I don't know who watches cartoons, but my daughter used to watch 'She-Ra.' Put the ring up like this,'' he said, demonstrating, ``and she gets the special power. I'm wearing it for some power.''
Not that he needs any more.
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Jim Litke is the national sports columnist for The Associated Press. |
