Can Dusty Baker do it again? After reviving the San Francisco Giants, now he's trying to take the Chicago Cubs to the top - Biography

MAKE no mistake about it, Dusty Baker is among the rarified ranks of those who command the public's attention, perched on a pedestal reserved for the few who are intriguing, innovative and in charge. For him, accomplishment is his calling card, certified by a resume that's spelled S-U-C-C-E-S-S.

But even with the unique qualities he possesses, in some comers, there was a loud and collective cry of "Why?!" when he decided to cast his fate with the Chicago Cubs. After all, Dusty had led the San Francisco Giants to last year's World Series, he loved the San Francisco area, and with Barry Bonds leading the way, the Giants were positioned to challenge for the World Series title again this year.

Why would he toss all of that aside to become the manager of a team that hasn't won a World Series since 1908, hasn't made a World Series appearance since 1945, and hasn't had back-to-back winning seasons since 1972? Why would he choose to associate himself with a team that for years has been awash in such a deep sea of ineptness that some fans--and perhaps some players--seem to find some appeal in the label "lovable losers?"

Why would a three-time manager of the year sign up for this apparent prescription for failure? The money aside (reportedly a 4-year, $15 million deal), Dusty says this was something he had to do, was destined to do and was urged to do by a power that he couldn't resist. "A couple of years ago, my mother-in-law, who later died of breast cancer, told me that I should go to Chicago," says Baker, whose contract renewal in San Francisco was in question at the time. "[When the Cubs job came available], I prayed on it, and the answer I got was to go to Chicago. I always loved the town, and this is where the Lord wanted me to go. I realize the challenge, but this is the best move of my career. I can't give you a concrete reason; I just feel it. I'm supposed to be here."

Although Dusty, who grew up in the Baptist church, believes in divine intervention, he's quick to point out that there is nothing about him that would prompt anyone to describe him as being any more religious than the next guy. "When I consider all the times I've been rescued, I have to believe in a greater power," says Baker, who weeks ago caused a bit of a stir with comments about Blacks and Latin players being better suited to play in the heat. "Do I always live the way I'm supposed to live? Probably not. I'm not a saint by a long way, but do I have a fear of God? Yes, I do. Do I believe in what He tells me? Yes, I do."

So Dusty packed up for Chicago, believing that everything he had done in San Francisco was just a part of the destiny that led him to the Windy City. Immediately, he initiated a new sense of revival, a new sense of competitiveness, and with his level of enthusiasm, energy and a focus on fundamentals, he quickly had the Cubs winning more games than they were losing. "Dusty Baker knows how to treat people. He's a great manager," says Cubs star Sammy Sosa. "He's a guy who knows how to make a difference."

The difference, many say, is that Baker is building character and building confidence in a team that has been immersed in negativity for years. His plan of attack is two-pronged--setting out first to change the mind-set of the team, the media, the city and Cub fans around the world who view the Cubs as losers. At the same time, the two-time All-Star has had to stress patience, reminding onlookers of the real expectations for a team that won only 67 games last year.

As it was in San Francisco, Baker's influence has been swift, with the team's early-season success bringing new hope and validating the hoopla that accompanied his arrival. Ironically, none of this Dustymania ever would have materialized--the glowing accolades, the multimillion-dollar paydays--if he had had his way. As a youngster, he was, he says, on a road to "where no one would have heard about me." But his father, Johnnie B. Baker Sr., and his mother, Christine Baker, set up a constant road block on that path, disciplining him to the point that his father (who was also his coach) kicked him off his Little League team for not toeing the line like his teammates.

By the time Dusty made it to the major leagues, it was some of baseball's icons, including Hank Aaron and Junior Gilliam, who tempered his rebellious nature, especially during the Black Power era. He listened to his mentors and patterened himself after them during an 18-year career that began in 1968 and included stints with Atlanta, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Oakland.

The transition from player to manager included some twists, turns and bumps in the road, but Dusty skillfully navigated the course then capitalized on his understanding of the day-to-day grind that players have to face. He knows that communication is the key to success, making sure that everyone is aware of his only two rules: "Be on time and play hard." Players appreciate and respond to that straightforwardness, using words like motivator, honest, fair and reassuring to describe him.