Nice Guys Finish First

Few dream of growing up to be manager of the Anaheim Angels. Certainly not Mike Scioscia, a Philadelphia kid who became a fierce, formidable catcher for the Los Angeles Dodgers. Not the man who learned his craft at the knee of Roy Campanella, who learned about baseball strategy and managing men from Tommy Lasorda, who learned how to love a team from Peter O'Malley.

But four years ago, after having spent 23 years in the Dodger organization, Scioscia was told he was welcome to leave. He learned that his willingness to bleed Dodger blue wasn't so prized by the new corporate ownership. So now Scioscia is manager of the Angels--the World Champion Anaheim Angels. He got there not only by knowing what he wants, but who he is. "One thing I'll always believe," he says, "is that I have to do the things I believe in, and do them my way. It's the only way I can be. If I'm going to be fired or if I have to quit a job, I can accept it only if I know I behaved the way I believe was right."

Scioscia believes, above all else, in family. And so, on President's Day Monday, a February school holiday for 14-year-old Matthew Scioscia and 11-year-old Taylor Scioscia, their father has grabbed a bat, a glove and four balls and ducked out of his small office at Tempe Diablo Stadium in Arizona, where the Angels conduct spring training. His kids and wife, Anne, have come to spend a three-day weekend. This might be the fourth day of spring training and there might be a dozen messages on his voice mail and an insistent list of requests and obligations, photos to be taken, interviews to be conducted. But the Angels manager is hustling his son and daughter out onto the field.

It's a perfect day in the desert. The sky is blue, the temperature is 72 degrees. The field is bright green and not yet trampled by the games to come. The only sound is that of Scioscia's voice and his bat striking the ball. He is hitting pop-ups to his son, who is nursing a broken wrist, while his daughter chases the uncatchable balls. It's a simple half hour of play. It's one of the little things Scioscia believes a father should do with his children, because it's what his father, Fred, did with young Mike. There are other things that Scioscia believes. He believes that baseball is a game, not life, and that life is not complicated: have some values, have a plan, live. He believes, too, that little things--whether a stolen half hour with his kids or a well-executed squeeze play--can add up in the end.