Giant Killers: 1988 Los Angeles Dodgers

Before the season began, they were typically picked to finish fourth in their own division.

Fred Claire, the embattled General Manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers, managed to pry open the tight-fisted grip Peter O’Malley had on the organization's coffers. Claire was convinced that one fiery superstar, with a World Series ring and several All-Star game appearances to his credit, was the key to turning the Dodgers around.

Kirk Harold Gibson boarded a plane for Hollywood, clutching a then-Dodger record free agent contract: three-years, $4.5 million.

That would barely purchase a utility infielder today.

But back then, in the halcyon days of the late 1980s, it entitled the Dodgers to the services of a snarling ex-football player who tackled the baseball diamond with a gridiron mentality.

Gibson played hard, and when that didn’t work for any reason, he played harder.

To say that Kirk Gibson was intense would be like saying the Yankees have won a few World Series titles.

The following excerpt from a dinner conversation between Claire and Gibson the night Kirk was signed tells the entire story very succinctly:

Gibson: “I just want to win. And I just want you to know, I may have

               to bang some heads.”

Claire:  “Kirk, why do you think you’re here?”

Claire, whose very job was on the line, was determined to get his laid back Boys in Blue to overachieve for a change. He looked north to Oakland, which was building a new dynasty, for some of the players that he needed.

He brought in Mike Davis as another big bat to support Gibson and feared slugger Pedro Guerrero. Davis was another investment of almost $2 million.

On December 11, 1987, the Dodgers, Athletics and New York Mets concluded a complicated three-way trade. The Mets had coveted a hot young Dodger prospect, Jack Savage, and A’s farmhand Kevin Tapani. The A’s were beside themselves over the Dodgers’ seasoned hurler, Bob Welch. Los Angeles had a hungry eye on bullpen help.

Everyone got what they wanted.

Claire sent “Grape Juice” and Matt Young to Oakland, and Savage to Queens. The Athletics moved Tapani and Wally Whitehurst to the Mets.

The Dodgers, in turn, received crafty lefty relief specialist Jesse Orosco from New York, along with embattled closer Jay Howell and shortstop Alfredo Griffin from Oaktown.

For anyone who did not follow Orosco’s early career—remembering him from his days when he was generally employed only to get lefties out—the hurler was one of the most versatile relievers ever to take the mound.

He began his career as a long reliever (peaking at 13-7 with a 1.47 ERA, 17 saves, and 42 games finished in 1983, notching 110 innings in 62 games and finishing third in the NL Cy Young race).

He then became a closer (31 saves in 1984, and 85 from ’84 to ‘87) for Davey Johnson and the Mets. The Dodgers, however, signed him primarily for the set-up role.

Howell was to be the closer, and Dodger fans were nervous about the idea.

Jay had burst onto the scene with 29 saves and a 2.85 ERA with Oakland in 1985. The law of diminishing returns immediately set in, as he fell to 16 saves and a 3.38 ERA the following season (respectable enough), and then 16 saves with a 5.89 ERA in 1987.

He certainly didn’t appear to be the answer to the Dodgers’ woes as bullpen stopper.

Acquiring Griffin was huge, too. LA had suffered for years from woeful defense. The arrivals of Davis and Gibson moved Guerrero, for instance, back to third base (reluctantly), where he was a butcher.

That being the case, Claire absolutely had to improve his infield defense. Griffin fit the bill, as one of the slickest-fielding shortstops around, including a Gold Glove in 1985 with Oakland.

Still, the Dodgers had some serious question marks entering the season.

Would young Franklin Stubbs finally be the answer at first base, a position where the Dodgers had struggled mightily since letting Steve Garvey walk to the San Diego Padres in free agency?

Would Steve Sax go back to having the yips on his throws to first base?

At third base, would Guerrero’s exploits as a batsman outweigh his liabilities in the field?

With Gibson in left field and Mike Marshall in right, who among Mike Davis, Mike Devereaux, and John Shelby would step forward to claim the starting job in centerfield?

And which Jay Howell would Los Angeles see: the phenom who rode a back-breaking curveball to 31 saves and a 2.85 ERA in 1985? Or the more recent vintage that could only manage 32 saves in the following two seasons, with an unsightly ERA of 4.52?

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