<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9501070244
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
950219
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, February 19, 1995
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
COM
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1F
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1995, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
SPARKY FIRES SHOT THAT COULD END THIS
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
A  single gunshot started the American Civil War, and a simple act of
refusing to go to the back of the bus spawned the Civil Rights movement. 

  So is it possible that Sparky Anderson, by taking  his pipe and walking
away from the Detroit Tigers, has just ended the baseball strike?

  Oh, maybe not yet. There are still no recognizable players in the Florida
and Arizona camps, still no settlement  on the table.
  But, like Mahatma Gandhi's hunger strikes, Anderson's refusal to manage
replacement players cuts a hole in this baseball war that cannot be stitched
with the normal twine.
  Wait.  Did I just compare Sparky to Gandhi?
  Ohmigod. And yet, Sparky has now become  --  and those of us who know him
have to laugh at this --  a martyr. A lightning rod. The more the Tigers try
to discredit  him, the bigger hero he will be in the public's eyes. 
  Every story on the strike will now include a reference to Sparky. Already
one manager, Sparky Anderson, has refused to work with replacement  players.
Every ESPN report will toss in his name. He will sit out there in his
California garden -- which he seems to prefer more and more as he gets older
-- and grow a few inches in stature every day.
  Because, let's face it, until now, the only casualties of this baseball
thing were 1) the players and owners' pocketbooks, which nobody feels sorry
for, 2) the stadium workers, who never get respect,  and 3) history, which
cannot be appreciated until years later.
  But now? Now you have a bona fide loss. The senior manager in the game?
Walking away? And make no mistake, while we in Detroit joke  about Sparky
butchering the English language, around the country, he is seen as a baseball
sage, his white hair flapping in the wind. 
  Sparky is a four-star general, and he's walking away from the front
lines.
  Ohmigod. Now I'm comparing him to Patton.
Owners have reason to worry
  "I'm not going to tarnish the game by accepting this," Sparky said Friday,
before leaving Lakeland.  "I'm looking forward to Opening Day, and I'm looking
forward to regular players. 
  "I'm not looking forward to no replacement thing."
  Good ol' Sparky. He sure has a way with those double negatives,  don't he?
  But did he do the right thing? Well, what's "right" in this mess? A bunch
of millionaires and billionaires arguing over money doesn't leave you with
much right or wrong.
  What Sparky  did was say: "This is ridiculous." And he did it in a way that
every American can understand. He walked out.
  Now owners have to worry if fans will, too.
  Already there are enormous holes in their  plan. The Baltimore Orioles'
head man, Peter Angelos,  says he won't allow  exhibitions  against
replacement players or come north with a replacement roster. What will
baseball do? Have an American  League East without Baltimore? Seize his team
and force it to play?
  The Toronto Blue Jays have told Cito Gaston, their manager, he doesn't have
to work with replacement players during spring training.  What will they do,
force him to do it come April -- in Ontario, where laws prevent scab workers? 
  San Francisco is facing threats from city leaders saying scabs are not
welcome in Candlestick Park.  President Clinton has indicated he will not
throw out an Opening Day pitch to a scab catcher.
  And now there's Sparky, out there in his garden, saying, "This stuff is so
bad, I'll give up my paycheck  rather than be part of it." Brilliant. How can
Mike Ilitch put replacement ball in a major league park now? He'll be laughed
at, while Sparky stages his own personal sit-in.
  Ohmigod. I'm comparing  him to Abbie Hoffman.
Sparky's stamp of disapproval
  Now, some say Sparky has an obligation to the owner who pays him. They have
a point. Others say Sparky knows he can get another job in a second  --  and
probably wants one, given the Tigers pitching staff -- so this is all very
calculated. Perhaps they are right, too.
  It doesn't matter. Symbols are symbols, and Sparky walking out has put  a
"Worthless" stamp on replacement ball. And fans don't want to pay for
"Worthless." 
  And without replacement ball as leverage, the owners really have no choice
but to get back and settle this thing.
  So it could be that Sparky Anderson, by getting on that airplane, has just
exploded the last grenade that causes this baseball stalemate to crumble.
  Imagine that.
  And we thought all he did  was yank pitchers.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>

</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
