In Memory Of Lasorda, Phillie Phanatic Recalls Violent Attack

The lack of character and fan engagement in MLB has left many fans wanting more. Showmen, including manager Tommy Lasorda, engaged the youth of the 1980s, filled stadiums and created must-see TV. But, as many of these on-field entertainers die or fade into obscurity, one victim of a now-infamous attack is looking back at his run-in with Lasorda with a smile and with hopes that characters like the Hall of Famer will once again grace the diamond.

Lasorda’s ‘88 Los Angeles Dodgers are revered for several reasons. OF Kirk Gibson earned MVP honors, SP Orel Hershiser threw 59 scoreless innings on his way to a Cy Young Award and the pinnacle, their first World Series championship since 1981. The Dodgers had a team with a fire that only Lasorda himself could ignite.

On Aug. 28, 1988, Veterans Stadium saw the first-place Dodgers defeat the lowly Philadelphia Phillies, 5-0. After scoring three first-inning runs, the Dodgers held tight. SP John Tudor threw seven scoreless innings and RHP Tim Crews finished it off, striking out three.

But fans don’t remember this game for the RBI double by 1B/OF Franklin Stubbs. They don’t look back at 2B Steve Sax nabbing his 35th stolen base of the season. No, fans reminisce and laugh about the moment the then-60-year-old Lasorda physically belittled the Phillie Phanatic — with an effigy of himself.

Buried inside the Phanatic’s fur, a young Dave Raymond saw, and felt, the wrath of the incoming Manager of the Year. At the time, Raymond had already been well-acquainted with Lasorda, going back to a tour of Japan in 1979.

“We were friendly enough, if I planned anything with him,” Raymond reminisced. “Occasionally, he would do something for me. But he would always act angry. That was part of the deal.”

The Phanatic’s constant mockery of Lasorda resulted in a slight change of heart, however. Lasorda only brought one #2 jersey to Philadelphia, with full knowledge that if he brought more than one, a ‘traitor’ (Sax) would provide the green creature with the shirt.

By August 1988, the threat of dismissal toward both Sax and the clubhouse manager led the Phanatic to purchase his own Lasorda jersey.

“I bought it, that’s how I got it,” Raymond said. “I paid money to have it embroidered, so it looked exactly like a Dodgers jersey.”

This proved to be the breaking point in what was once, at least, a cordial relationship.

“I came out on the four-wheeler, and I had a dummy of Tommy dressed up in his uniform. He snaps. He grabbed the four-wheeler, and it looked like he was pulling it into their dugout at the old Vet. There were steps down to the dugout and if that four-wheeler went in there, we’d have to get five or six grounds crew to pull it out. And if gas spills, players might complain, and I could really be in trouble,” Raymond recalled with a smile. “You can see me sneak up after him trying to grab the four-wheeler so that he couldn’t do it, and he used that as the way to catch me.”

Lasorda charged the Phillie Phanatic at full speed, grabbing both the Phanatic’s neck and his prop in one swift motion. As his portly 5-foot-10 frame hovered over the mascot, delivering swats and expletives, Raymond realized that this was no longer an act. Tommy was hot.

“I thought he was still playing until he was using my name,” Raymond said. “‘I’m gonna kick your a**, David,’ and ‘f***, David.’”

After a swift blow to the head, with his own effigy, Lasorda retreated to the Dodgers’ dugout. On his way, he delivered a fastball in the direction of the furry mascot, as the crowd roared and the Phanatic fled.

But the Phanatic wasn’t done yet.

“That got me angry. I’m competitive. I got on top of the Phillies’ dugout so that Tommy could see me. I sat a chair on the dugout, and I sat with the dummy with my hand up the shirt, like it was a puppet,” Raymond said with a chuckle. “And then, all of a sudden, I brought up a pizza box. And he’s just staring me down from the dugout. I was like, ‘I’ll show you. I’m going to be on you for the entire game. I’m going to be doing something in front of you for the rest of the game.’”

After SS Steve Jeltz grounded out to end it, sending the Dodgers to Montréal and eventually the World Series, the Phanatic incident became synonymous with Lasorda’s name. Along with his rants about INF Kurt Bevacqua and INF/OF Dave Kingman, his SP Doug Rau mound visit and several other mascot run-ins, the Aug. 28, 1988, pummeling remains one of Lasorda’s most memorable, if not finest, moments.

As baseball fans worldwide mourn the death of one of the game’s greatest showmen, longtime friend Raymond—now a happiness thought leader—looks back fondly at the incident. An incident that would have been considered assault, but then, engaged fans and peaked enjoyment.

“This was really powerful,” Raymond said. “It was natural and authentic. It wasn’t put on. It wasn’t fake. It really drove interest in baseball, and it continues to. I don’t want to lose that. Baseball has to do that crossover again. They need the simplest pieces of fun to inspire.”

Cover photo courtesy of Focus on Sport/Getty Images