Sport: Nice Guys Always Finish . . . ?

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When the Dodgers went into the ninth inning of their third play-off game against Philadelphia trailing 4-3, the long season and all of Lasorda's rah-rah boosting of his team finally paid off. Vic Davalillo, fleet-footed salvage from the Mexican League, bunted safely. Manny Mota—told in the spring that his responsibility was pinch-hitting because "when you open your suitcase, four hits fall out"—doubled off the wall in left field. A flurry of Dodger hits and Los Angeles was one game away from the pennant. Asked what had been his instructions to his players in the frantic final minutes, Lasorda replied: "I didn't say anything to Davalillo. I didn't say anything to Mota. I didn't say anything to anybody. I was only talking to God." But when God is the Great Dodger in the Sky, that's all the talking Tommy Lasorda needs to do.