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<UID>
8703010428
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
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<DATE>
871213
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<TDATE>
Sunday, December 13, 1987
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<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
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<SECTION>
SPT
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<PAGE>
1D
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<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo MARY SCHROEDER
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<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
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<MEMO>

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<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR LAJOIE
TIGERS GM ALWAYS LOOKING FOR THE EDGE IN TRADE TALKS
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<BODY>
Call me chicken. I would not want to go against Bill Lajoie in a business
deal. Maybe it's that deep voice. Maybe it's the narrow eyes. Maybe  it's the
way he cups his chin in his hand while you're  talking, hiding his mouth, as
if to say: "This guy is so dumb I'm gonna crack up."

  Whatever. The man is sharp, you can't miss that. And it's always
surprising to go into his office at Tiger Stadium  in the off-season and find
him alone there, like a priest in a confession booth, when you know he's
pulling all the strings for this Tigers team.

  He was at it again last  week, during the winter  meetings in Dallas. The
trade of Dan Petry for outfielder Gary Pettis; the efforts to trade Willie
Hernandez; the talks with not one, not two, but three teams for the trade of
Kirk Gibson -- all of which  whiffed, at least temporarily. Lajoie was behind
it. Every move. Every conversation.
  "To be honest," says the Tigers' GM, "I really don't like dealing at
winter meetings. It's not a good atmosphere."
  Here is a fact: The Tigers won more games than any team in baseball last
season. Here is another fact: The minute the season was over, Lajoie knew he
had to make  significant changes. 
  Why?  Simple. Success in pro sports is gasoline; it burns quickly and you
never have enough. The Tigers pulled off a surprising season in 1987 with a
series of bandages and rubber patches slapped on by --  naturally -- Lajoie.
Doyle  Alexander was acquired and won nine  games. Bill Madlock was snatched
from the Dodgers and came out swinging. Rookies Scott Lusader and Jim
Walewander served as fireworks.  Jim Morrison plugged a hole at third.
  And with all that, the Tigers won the  American League  East -- and
couldn't hit left-handed pitchers if they were bolted to the ground. "Other
teams were bringing  in lefties from the minor leagues just prior to our
series," says Lajoie, 53, rolling his eyes.
  So he set out to fix the problem. 
  Which brings us Item No. 1 in This Week In Review: the trade of Petry for
Pettis. A smart deal. Petry was a wonderful pitcher here, but recent troubles
made a return less than optimistic. Pettis, an  outstanding outfielder, can
steal bases, and he's a switch hitter.  If his bat comes back to life, he'll
be an asset.
  "That trade was done well before the meetings," Lajoie admits, "we just
waited until then to make it official."
  Item No. 2.  Hernandez.  The name has been in the news since the summer,
but always behind the words "They gotta trade. . . . "  The 1984 heroics? The
Cy Young Award? All  forgotten, washed away in a swirl of defeats, injuries
and bad feelings between Hernandez and the people who pay to see him.
  "Willie's being run out of town," Lajoie says. "That's not right." Still,
Lajoie  has  been trying to trade him wherever he can. Even Sparky Anderson
admits Hernandez can't pitch  in Detroit anymore.
  "What's the reaction from other teams?" I ask Lajoie.
  "The two years (left on his contract) are the holdup. The funny  thing is,
the guy's healthy. There are certainly teams who could use a healthy Willie
Hernandez. . . . "
  He leans forward.
  "There's a hell of a difference between getting a head in shape and
fixing a bad arm."
  A change of scenery, Lajoie knows, would do Hernandez good. Lajoie would
like to trade him. So far, no takers.
  "What do you think?" I ask. "Will you be able to move him?"
  "No."
  "He'll be back next year?'
  "Yes."
  Honest answer.
  OK. Let's talk Kirk Gibson. Everybody else is. The  rumors about  him
going to Seattle, New York or Los Angeles had fans buzzing all week, and
finally prompted Gibson himself to gather a few reporters. "I was a little
upset when I first heard the talk," Gibson said, "but Bill Lajoie has been
great about it. He's kept  me informed all the way."
  Not every GM would do that. But as we noted, Lajoie is smart. He's not
disappointed with Gibson, the left fielder, and he wants him to know it. An
example: Seattle  wanted  to speak with Gibson  before trading for him,
because of the court ruling on owners' collusion, which may award Gibson the
right to be a free agent.
  Lajoie phoned his player.
  "Well, do you  want me to speak with them?" Gibson asked.
  "This is your call, Kirk," said Lajoie.
  Why did he do that? "Because I didn't want Kirk to feel like we were
looking to get rid of him." And even  though Gibson nixed Seattle, Lajoie had
gained his trust, which will be important: 1) in any future deals or 2) should
Gibson return next season.
  Wait, you say, then what happened then with the  Yankees -- the second
team interested in Gibson? Well, Lajoie had gone to them about a different
player, but found a Dave Winfield-for- Gibson offer on the plate instead, like
a sudden glob of mashed  potatoes. One look at Winfield's contract and he knew
it wouldn't come to pass. But he let the deal sit for a while, he let the
smell get out, because that only made Gibson seem more lucrative to another
team, such as. . . . 
  Los Angeles. Yes. Let's talk about Los Angeles. The Dodgers were offering
Pedro Guerrero (whom the Tigers would like). But they took a long time. Then
they apparently let the  story out to the press, which made Lajoie angry.
"That was the best-kept secret of the winter meetings," he says. "They must
have let it out, because we certainly didn't."
  Tired and annoyed, Lajoie  pulled the deal off the table. Gibson never got
to speak with the Dodgers. ("If I had, I would have been a Dodger today," he
said.)
  Now. There are those who think the deal is dead. ("I won't put  Gibson
through that again," says Lajoie.) But if you use a little smarts, you know
that Lajoie is holding the cards. The Dodgers seem to be eager  for the trade,
so keeping them at bay may just make  them more willing to bargain.
  Besides, if it falls through, bringing Gibson back next year is hardly a
bad alternative.
  "Right, Bill?" I ask.
  He puts his hand over his mouth again.
  Remember that old gangster joke?
  "Hey, Sam, how about a loan?"
  "Whaddya need?"
  "Five hundred bucks."
  "Sure, you got collateral?"
  "Whaddya need?"
  "How about an eye?" 
  Well, as  we said, Bill Lajoie isn't stupid. He's not going to throw away
Hernandez. He's not going to jump at every offer for Gibson. Patience is an
enormous part of making sports deals, and Lajoie  -- part businessman, part
psychologist, part media manipulator -- knows how to be patient. The best
trades, anyhow, "are the ones you make during the season, once you've seen
what you've got."
  What  he's got now is a team that can't hit lefties, a left fielder who's
his only real good trade bait, and two free agents (Jack Morris and Frank
Tanana) who represent the best part of his pitching staff.  No problem, right?
  "You have to keep stirring the pot," he says.
  There is a fixture on Lajoie's office wall  that contains the names of
every team in baseball. He eyes it as he speaks, perhaps  already charting his
next plan, his next step.
  "Will you go for a third baseman?" I ask. "Like Gary Gaetti from
Minnesota?"
  "No," he says.
  "Are there other right-handed hitters you're  after?"
  "Not at the moment."
  "Is Gibson  definitely gone somewhere?"
  "They've been talking about Willie going somewhere and he's still here."
  "So what is your next move?"
  At  this, Lajoie does something rare. He begins to ramble. "The
right-handed batter was what we were looking for. . . . Pettis will add
dimensions. . . . A good defense is a good offense. . . . "
  "That's  not really answering the question," I say.
  He pauses.
  "Well, I don't think it's anybody's business what our next move is."
  He laughs -- a deep, grizzly laugh. And on we go. I'm sure there  will be
more deals coming, more names tossed around, more GMs seeking to mix it up
with Lajoie. I have but one suggestion for them:
  Bring your eyes,  fellas.
  He may want some insurance.
CUTLINE
Willie  Hernandez
Bill Lajoie: "I really don't like dealing at winter meetings. It's not a good
atmosphere."
Kirk Gibson
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