BOSS MAYOR HAD GRIT BUT VERY RARELY DISPLAYED IT.

Byline: Dennis McCarthy

THE mayor was mad. And when Tom Bradley got mad, people in this city tended to shut up and listen, if they knew what was good for them.

It was early '84, and a roomful of L.A. taxicab operators were airing out their dirty laundry in a back room down at City Hall. It was no garden party. The gloves were off.

A handful of cab companies stood accused of taking foreign tourists flying into Los Angeles International Airport for a ride - a long, expensive cab ride.

Disneyland often turned into a $150 fare - one way. Hollywood Boulevard, $50. The San Fernando Valley, the same or more.

It was giving the city a black eye, all this scamming - taking foreign tourists the long, long way around, and preying on their lack of knowledge on the money conversion when it came time to give them their change.

The media hadn't been invited to this airing of the taxicab industry's dirty laundry, but one nosy newspaper reporter sat quietly in the back row, the guest of one of the Valley's cab operators fed up with the scamming.

Hearing enough yelling and threats, the mayor slowly rose from his chair and glared. The room fell silent.

The Olympic Games were coming to town and Bradley didn't want anything negative getting in the way of the positive image he wanted for his city when the world turned its eyes toward L.A.

``I'm the best fighter in the world and I'll do battle with you right now,'' Bradley said. ``I want this problem taken care of now. Understand? If it isn't, I'll pull all your licenses.''

With that, Bradley stormed out of the room, leaving a few dozen gruff, street-tough cab operators looking like a roomful of scared third-graders who had just been dressed down by the teacher.

The problem was taken care of.

That's the Tom Bradley I'd like to remember.

Boss Bradley. The tough, don't-screw-with-me, back-room politician the public seldom saw.

Too bad. It was a much more interesting, forceful image than Public Bradley: the wanderlust mayor who didn't think the job was really big enough for him - governor of California was more like it.

The mayor who rose from the ranks of the Los Angeles Police Department to lead a city, then basically turned his back on his old department when it pleaded for more officers to protect our streets.

The mum Bradley who holed up in his office and said nothing back in 1985 when Louie ``The Lip'' Farrakhan came to town and shot it full of hatred and racial tension.

The Thanks for the Memories Bradley who wanted the city's taxpayers to ante up for one more victory lap before he left office - a spin around the world with 14 people ostensibly to drum up international business for the city's Harbor Department.

The easy-going, ribbon-cutting Bradley, sitting in the mayor's seats behind the Dodgers dugout with his wife, Ethel, waving to the crowd like the Godfather.

Public Tom Bradley. Nice visuals, but little else left behind as a legacy. What a shame.

Boss Bradley I saw in operation behind closed doors could have been a legend - could have fought tooth and nail for the people of this city against the special interests like nobody before or since.

He was the best fighter in the world, ready to do battle with anyone hurting his city.

He just didn't like to step in the ring often enough.

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Photo: no caption (Tom Bradley)