DALY MUST RUN TEAM WITH HEAD, NOT HEART.

Byline: KAREN CROUSE

Until just recently, it might have been a movie script Robert Daly greenlighted for production at Warner Bros.: A boy from Brooklyn grows up to make his mark - not to mention a personal fortune amounting to hundreds of millions of dollars - in the entertainment industry.

In the good times and the better, one true love sustains him. At 62, he finally surrenders himself to it, agreeing to run a Dodgers team that has fallen on hard times.

Today, of course, everybody recognizes it as the story of Daly's life.

Daly is such a dyed-in-the-wool Dodger, you could be forgiven for wondering if his name wasn't plucked out of a barrel in some promotional drawing of season-ticket holders to pick a person to run the Dodgers for a year.

You have to admit, the dialogue was kind of corny when Daly addressed the L.A. media Thursday after being formally introduced as vice chairman and CEO of the Dodgers. Imagine, a man who for years steered the movie, TV and music industries being named the captain of a badly listing luxury liner and cheerfully chirping, ``This is the happiest day of my life.''

The hope here is Thursday wasn't as good as it gets for Daly.

Unlike in the entertainment world he left behind on Oct. 1, there can be no forcing a formulaic happy ending in sports. Rupert Murdoch's minions tried to do just that and failed miserably.

It's curious: To live and play in L.A. these days is to show all the patience of a driver stuck in Friday night traffic. Who has time when the end of the century is drawing near? In the name of a quick fix, the Lakers threw money at Phil Jackson, the Dodgers threw money at Kevin Brown and the Kings threw money at Staples Center.

And now, Daly is throwing money ($30 million) at the Dodgers because, well, he really cares. Hey, we wish him well. If nothing else, it's a welcome plot twist, after the corporate coldness of the Fox Group, to see the Dodgers delivered into the hands of a true-blue fan.

We can see why the Dodger faithful might feel much the same giddiness about Daly running the Dodgers as they once did when the baseball was placed in Sandy Koufax's hands or the bat in Mike Piazza's.

There's reason to be optimistic he'll get the job done. To be smug, even.

As co-chairman at Warner Bros., Daly built a reputation for massaging stars' egos without getting his hands messy. If he could appease the Kevin Costners of the reel world, Kevin Brown and his ilk ought to pose scant problems.

Daly will be a good fit for the Dodgers inasmuch as he will be happy to leave the spotlight for certain other front-office types who clearly crave it.

With his business and baseball background, he'll add some substance to an organization that has lived off ostentation for years.

When Daly says he's looking forward to working with general manager Kevin Malone and Tommy Lasorda and maybe even recently deposed president Bob Graziano, we don't doubt him. He is not territorial about power.

As Daly noted, ``I've always run a company thinking of it as a team.''

His partnership at Warner Bros. with Terry Semel was, by all accounts, better than most marriages. Their collaboration was a key to the studio's success, with Daly providing blueprints and Semel, the brick and mortar.

Daly's heart might be in the right place - Lasorda and Graziano, after all, are dear friends. But there's such a thing as being too close to a situation.

At CBS and then at Warner Bros., Daly succeeded by following his head, not his heart. He ought not forget that.

To turn any passionate interest into your industry is to risk being swayed by emotion and sentimentality. This is not a fantasy-league team Daly has taken charge of, but a business. He's going to have to be careful to separate the fan from the businessman, a task best left to the heartless.

Or have you not noticed how George Steinbrenner continues to succeed in New York long after Peter O'Malley bowed out in L.A.? O'Malley's only mistake was remaining the familial and faithful owner until the bitter end of the Dodgers' postseason run of success.

Daly's loyalty to his friends is admirable. But he should remember this: As the Dodgers' president, Graziano was an accountant masquerading as a visionary.

Lasorda, too, isn't always what he appears to be. The man Daly said personifies the Dodgers is the same man who spent 90 minutes hanging out in the visiting manager's office before a game in September between the Mets and Dodgers.

If he's going to let Lasorda pontificate about how every Dodger needs to play for the name on the front of his jersey instead of the name on the back, Daly first ought to gently remind Lasorda that he, too, is being counted on to represent the club and not himself.

Daly gushed Thursday about how he's a big fan of Malone and of manager Davey Johnson.

He's now their boss, first and foremost. We trust he won't forget it.

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Photo: (Color) Robert Daly, left, with Peter Chernin and Vin Scully, was introduced Thursday as the new vice chairman and CEO of the Dodgers.

David Crane/Staff Photographer