CHOICES FOR SHERIFF ARE BOTH UNINSPIRED.

Byline: JONATHAN S. SHAPIRO Local View

THE biggest job in government is up for grabs on Election Day, and sadly, two very small men - one, diminished by poor health, the other, unable to make his presence felt - are competing for it.

It isn't a statewide office. The governor can't do anything without vast amounts of popular support and the allegiance of the Legislature (and controlling the Legislature is like herding cats).

It isn't a federal spot either. The only thing U.S. senators run are their mouths and their staff. They can't do much without seniority, and even with it, they can't do anything without a majority of like-minded congressional allies.

Whether you judge power in terms of controlling the lives of other human beings, distributing economic and manpower resources, or being able to act with a remarkable independence, the biggest job in government available this election is Los Angeles County sheriff.

With a budget of approximately $1.3 billion, 13,000 employees, 8,000 armed deputies and control of the largest jail system in the country, the Sheriff's Department serves 2.5 million people living in unincorporated areas of Los Angeles County, and 40 cities that pay for the department to be their law enforcement agency.

In terms of money, people, infrastructure and power, the Sheriff's Department is a massive, unwieldy and extremely powerful organization that impacts the lives of the nation's largest metropolitan area, and sets standards for police departments throughout the nation. That makes the person who runs the department big. Very big.

For years, that man has been Sherman Block. Deceptively avuncular, Block is a razor-sharp politician. Since becoming sheriff in 1982, Block has seen the Los Angeles Police Department endure civil rights probes, riots and three chiefs.

As solid and stolid as his name implies, Block has been an extremely important presence on the local political scene, surprisingly successful in maintaining order in his department, and enjoying good relations with the Board of Supervisors and various and diverse government heads.

But time has taken its toll. At 74, far past the age when lawmen ought to retire, Block is, by any definition and sad to say, a sick man.

Stricken with cancer twice, he receives kidney dialysis three times a week for over three hours at a time. By his own admission, he is awaiting a kidney transplant, and God willing, he will get one. Faced with these unpleasant truths, another man might have stepped aside, retiring to leave behind an enviable legacy of achievement.

But heavyweight fighters and politicians rarely leave the ring gracefully. Insisting he was fit as a fiddle, Block ran for a fifth term.

In June, Lee Baca, a former member of Block's command staff, forced Block into the first runoff of his political life. Remarkably, at 57, with over 30 years of experience in the Sheriff's Department, Baca is offering himself as the vibrant young alternative. Rarely has a campaign's fresh young face carried so many wrinkles.

Well-financed, Baca has had plenty to run on.

To an impartial observer, the Sheriff's Department, like Block himself, appears tired, unwell. It has been beset by the twin scourges of all police agencies - corruption and brutality. Allegations of kickbacks among department vendors have been made. Inmates - including some dangerous ones - have been released from Block's jails accidentally. Most worrying of all, after long delays in opening, the Twin Towers jail facility under Block's charge has been the scene of various alleged civil rights violations, including the beating of mentally ill inmates by a rogue posse of deputies who felt the inmates were being coddled.

Block acknowledged the problem. But he refused to admit that his program of putting deputies on the job in the jails after only nine weeks of training may have been the cause.

Any other candidate might have pressed these issues to great effect. Seemingly uncomfortable running against his old boss or the department, Baca has proved a poor campaigner indeed. While claiming Block is too old and sick to stay sheriff, Baca has failed to make the case as to why he would do a better job.

One of his few concrete proposals - to beef up resources to fight gangs - fails to carry with it an explanation as to how he will pay for it out of an increasingly stretched budget. Over the course of four bitter debates, Block pressed Baca for details of what his plan is for taking the department into the next century. Other than claiming that he had the experience to run the department, Baca was vague.

Imagine a gunfight on the streets of a Western town where one gunslinger is too old to shoot straight and the other one isn't sure where to aim. That's our sheriff's race.

Of course, this is no laughing matter to the men and women who wear the badge, solve crimes, police lonely stretches of road and try to control the most dangerous areas of our county - the inside of our jails.

It ought to be equally serious business to the citizens who those men and women protect. The cities and county served by the Sheriff's Department deserve a healthier Block or a more effective Baca to choose from. It is just that important.

But that does not seem to be in the cards. One has the unpleasant feeling that regardless of who you vote for in this one, the winner will not quite be up to the job.