In 15 years, Indians overhaul old image

By SHELDON OCKER

The Tribe erased decades of losing with a new ballpark, a new GM and a new plan.

This year is the 15th anniversary of the Indians’ revival as a respected member of the American League after four decades of failure.

The Tribe hasn’t won a World Series for 60 years, but in 15 seasons since former owner Dick Jacobs twisted enough arms to bring forth a new ballpark, the team has claimed two pennants and seven American League Central Division titles.

Of equal significance, mention of the Indians no longer generates volcanic laughter as the most obvious punch line in a long list of Cleveland jokes, dating to the days when the Cuyahoga River and Mayor Ralph Perk’s hair burst into flames.

There are fans alive today who remember none of that. Many also are unaware that in 1987, Phil Niekro led the Tribe with seven wins when he was traded in August, and nobody on the staff surpassed his victory total.

That season was a metaphor for the persistent misfortune of the franchise. After being picked by Sports Illustrated to win the World Series, the Indians showed a strong independent spirit by losing 101 games.

Losing 100 was nothing particularly notable for the Tribe. The club lost at least that many three times in a seven-year span, setting a franchise record in 1991 with 105 losses, every one of them well-earned.

Two things changed the course of the franchise: Jacobs bought the team in 1986, after the usual disappointing season, and hired Hank Peters to run baseball operations. Peters, in turn, brought with him from Baltimore John Hart, who eventually became general manager, and along with his assistant, Dan O’Dowd, remade the team.

Hart and O’Dowd had two guiding principles: Make development of the farm system a top priority, and if promising players emerge, lock them up with long-term deals, buying out several years of arbitration rights and possibly a year or two of free agency.

The plan worked so well that other teams began copying the formula, with varying degrees of success. Jacobs’ new stadium opened in 1994, the same time winning baseball returned to Cleveland.

Was that a coincidence? Certainly the front office was aiming for 1994, when the new ballpark would add powerful buzz to events on the field. The serendipitous alignment of a talented roster and a modern, classy venue made going to baseball games the thing to do in Cleveland, and virtually every seat was stuffed with fans for years.

Soon, clubs around the country tried to time the opening of their new ballparks with the maturation of the product on the field, but it rarely worked. Just ask the owners of the Pittsburgh Pirates, Milwaukee Brewers, Washington Nationals and Cincinnati Reds, among others, who attempted to apply the formula to their own downtrodden franchises.

Unfortunately, 1994 became the season that proved Hart’s grand design was working. For the first time in many years, the Tribe was locked in a race. The club trailed the division-leading Chicago White Sox by one game on Aug. 12, which turned out to be the last day of the season.

A players’ strike wiped out not only the remaining 49 games of the schedule but the playoffs and World Series, as well. Would the Indians have overtaken the White Sox and won the division championship? Who knows?

The Tribe’s roster was filled with young players and problematic pitchers. But the elements of one of baseball’s most powerful offensive teams ever were in place: Jim Thome, 23, hit 20 home runs with 52 RBI; 22-year-old Manny Ramirez slugged 17 homers with 60 RBI; Carlos Baerga, 25, batted .314 with 19 home runs and 80 RBI; and Kenny Lofton, 27, hit .349 and stole 60 bases.

Albert Belle, 27, had already emerged as a feared slugger. In 1994, he batted .357 with 36 home runs and 101 RBI. His OPS was a lusty 1.152, his slugging percentage, .714, and on-base percentage, .438.

Abetting these future stars were Sandy Alomar, Omar Vizquel, Paul Sorrento and future Hall of Fame first baseman Eddie Murray, then a 38-year-old designated hitter. Speaking of the hall, how many teams have fielded a lineup that included four would-be inductees to Cooperstown — Thome, Ramirez and Vizquel, in addition to Murray, who already has been elected to the hall.

And had a disintegrating hip not cut Belle’s career short, he, too, would be a certain hall of fame player.

Meanwhile, Jacobs Field swarmed with fans hungry to see a winner. In the ballpark’s first season, 1,995,174 customers jammed the grandstand. That does not sound like a great number but consider this: The strike-shortened season denied the Indians 31 home games. At the rate the team was drawing, total attendance would have been 3.1 million had the entire schedule been played.

That was the beginning of a new era that started with Buddy Bell yelling and banging on the door of the dugout bathroom before the home opener in 1994. Inside was President Bill Clinton, who would throw out the ceremonial first pitch.

Bell, a Tribe coach, was executing a harmless prank, until Clinton opened the door, and Bell’s face betrayed a look of shocked embarrassment. But it was no harm, no foul, which is the way the next several seasons unfolded. And if an actual president showed up at Jacobs Field, the fans reasoned that the Indians must be onto something.

The Indians were playing a new kind of baseball at a new ballpark in an old Rust Belt city that felt rejuvenated. Winning became so commonplace, fans began to believe that a championship was more than a pipe dream. There have been ups and downs since 1994, but the basic elements of how to win remain in place.

That does not mean winning is any easier now than it was in the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s, but John Hart and now Mark Shapiro have proved that with the right plan, it can be done.