MCCOURT-ING CRITICISM NEW DODGERS OWNERS ABSORB EARLY NEGATIVITY, LOOK FORWARD.

Byline: Tony Jackson  Staff Writer

The kid from Boston had been born of privilege, but in no way was he lazy or complacent. He was energetic and industrious, and to him, the idea of spending his vacation at his parents' summer home on a New Hampshire lake wasn't so much about getting away from it all as it was about opportunity, a chance to identify an untapped market and dive into it.

Frank McCourt, at the age of 13, was about to embark on his first business venture.

The kid next door was David Nicholson, old enough to have a driver's license but not so much older that he and McCourt couldn't be friends or business partners. They borrowed Nicholson's father's pickup, put giant sideboards on it with murals of a man in a tuxedo picking up barrels of garbage, and they started going house to house. They picked up barrel after barrel of trash, charging 50 cents for each one, and hauling it all off to a local landfill.

Their motto was, ``Selected Garbage for Families of Distinction.''

Thirty-seven years later, McCourt doesn't remember how much money they made. But he remembers everything else about that first lesson in how to start and run one's own business, on however small a scale it might have been.

McCourt is running businesses on a much larger scale now. It is apparent he didn't quite grasp just how large that scale would become after he completed his heavily leveraged, $430 million purchase of the Dodgers from News Corp. last month, but you can be assured he grasps it now. He and his wife, Jamie, who holds the title of vice chairman but in reality is more of a co-owner, have been slammed, ripped, shredded, lambasted and barbecued by the media for any number of reasons, all before their new team has even played a regular-season game.

They became targets because they effectively fired one high-ranking employee, whom they replaced with what by all accounts is one of the brightest young minds in the game; and accepted the voluntary resignations of at least four others, two of whom were fully expected to leave and one of whom went to great lengths to make everyone understand his departure had nothing to do with the way the new owners were running things. Only one departing employee cited, ``philosophical differences,'' without explaining what those differences were.

McCourt, a fourth-generation Boston real estate developer, has been likened to a parking-lot attendant because he owns a couple of public garages. He has been vilified because he is raising Dodger Stadium parking fees by $2 and might raise concession prices, all after new Angels owner and local media darling Arte Moreno announced he is slashing the already-inflated price of beer.

The McCourts have been stung by the criticism, but not discouraged by it. They have been bewildered by it, but not distracted or derailed. They are on a stated mission, that being to return the once-proud Dodgers to the National League penthouse, a residence that used to be theirs by birthright but to which they have not laid claim in 16 years.

``I just think we're staying focused on our situation here,'' Frank McCourt said. ``I think we're new to the community, and I think people need to have time to get to know us. The other aspect is that people will see changes, because there need to be changes. I think human beings are naturally resistant to change as a whole. But once we get through this and the team starts winning again, I think everything will be great.

``We have a plan and a vision for where this organization needs to go, and we're going to stay focused on that vision and that plan to get a championship team on the field.''

A key element to the early stages of implementing that vision is bringing in a handful of what McCourt calls, ``our own people.'' That doesn't mean cronyism. It means people McCourt has met, has interviewed, has gotten to know and has gotten comfortable with. Some, if not all, will be people McCourt never had met before buying the club.

``We are in the midst of that process in terms of interviewing people,'' McCourt said. ``There are a number of resumes we have received for all the key positions, and it's amazing how many qualified people want and would love to have a senior position with the Dodgers. Right now, I have asked three individuals to sort of work through that and make recommendations to me as to who is the best fit to fill those positions.

``We want to make sure that we're not just hiring the best person for each position, but also the type of people we feel will work best together as a management team.''

McCourt declined to identify the three-person committee, but Jamie said she is on it.

As for the ones who have left - and in case you hadn't noticed, no one has left in the past few weeks - the McCourts have little to say on the matter.

``We wish them well,'' Jamie McCourt said. ``We wish them nothing but the hope that their next endeavors will bring them a lot of happiness. End of story.''

What hasn't been written about, not much anyway, are the ones who haven't left. The most notable of those is assistant general manager Kim Ng - most notable because she might have had a chance to leave, to accept a similar position with the New York Mets, a long flyball from her childhood home in New Jersey. But Ng withdrew from consideration for that job because she liked the direction in which the Dodgers were going.

What hasn't been written at all is the story of Stefanie Nutting, a lifelong Bostonian who went to work for the McCourts last November as their executive assistant. The McCourts, who are moving to Los Angeles, gave Nutting the option of remaining in Boston without putting her job at risk. But she also is moving to Los Angeles, where she will have an office at Dodger Stadium. Her husband, who had a comfortable job in Boston, is going with her. They couldn't be more excited.

``I know the McCourts as people, and I have seen what they did for my community,'' Nutting said. ``If the fans knew Jamie and Frank on the level that I know them, they would embrace them without a second thought. I think over time, that will happen. It takes time to build an organization. They have a vision, and I wish everyone could see that.''

For all their past accomplishments, the McCourts have stayed remarkably under the radar for most of their lives, especially outside the Northeast. Do a search for the name Frank McCourt on the Web site Google.com, and you have to go to the sixth page before you find the first reference to this Frank McCourt, as opposed to the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of the same name who wrote ``Angela's Ashes.''

But when you buy one of the four or five most visible franchises in baseball, there is no more anonymity. The McCourts understood that from the beginning, although they still might have underestimated it somewhat. But all the public criticism has been drowned out by what Frank said is a silent majority that hasn't been shy about making itself known to him.

The McCourts spent most of spring training at Dodgertown, leaving periodically to take care of other business. But when they were around, they made themselves visible.

``The most surprising thing to me has been the number of people who have come up to me to talk about this,'' McCourt said. ``This isn't a few people, this is lots of people. What strikes me the most aren't the people who say, 'Congratulations,' even though I appreciate them very much, but what strikes me are the people who come up and say, 'Thank you for buying the Dodgers.' That has been one of the biggest revelations. It just shows me how deeply the fans care about this franchise and how desperately they want to see it get back on track.''

Vero Beach, Fla., is a small town, and it doesn't take long for stories to get around. One, which the McCourts don't deny, has it that they entered a local restaurant early in spring training, and as the hostess was showing them to a table, they passed another table and overheard the occupants talking about the Dodgers. After being seated, Frank McCourt had a round of drinks sent over. On another occasion, when a disgruntled fan left a voice mail, McCourt personally called the fan back.

The McCourts have four sons, all of whom spent at least some portion of the spring at Dodgertown. The eldest, 22-year-old Drew, works for the club and does not have a title yet. All indications are he will end up working closely with new general manager Paul DePodesta, the aforementioned brilliant mind the McCourts hired to replace Dan Evans, the only employee they have let go.

On the day senior vice president Derrick Hall announced his resignation, the McCourts were criticized for leaving Dodgertown rather than sticking around to address the media. In fact, they left to drive their two youngest sons to a tennis camp. Frank McCourt has coached all of his sons at one time or another either in youth baseball or hockey.

As owners, the McCourts will be visible, hence the move to Los Angeles. But they seem determined to find that fine line between being visible and accountable to fans and being meddlesome and overbearing in the tradition of George Steinbrenner. Frank McCourt and DePodesta have agreed upon a payroll figure, roughly $100 million. Beyond that, DePodesta is free to work within it however he sees fit.

``For me, it has been terrific,'' DePodesta said. ``From a baseball standpoint, all you can ask of owners is that they have a passion for it and that they give you autonomy. If you have those two things, it's really hard to complain about anything else.''

The McCourts appear to have survived the initial hurricane, although there will another one coming right behind it if the club gets off to a bad start. Even if that happens, though, don't expect their approach to change.

``We're not doing this to win a popularity contest,'' Frank said. ``We're doing it because we love baseball, and we want to see the Los Angeles Dodgers win a championship again. We will continue to be honest and direct with our thoughts and sharing our goals. But at the end of the day, the fans don't really want to hear a bunch of speeches from me. What they want is to know the team they're rooting for is going to win, and that it's a team they can be proud of.''

The McCourts know they will be compared to Moreno, perhaps unfairly. They know that while they were busy trying to buy the team, Moreno was ponying up for the likes of Vladimir Guerrero, Kelvim Escobar and Bartolo Colon. They know the Angels stand a good chance of having a better season than the Dodgers. But the McCourts also know that none of that is a given, and that it isn't going to change the way they do things.

``At the end of the day, we're not thinking about Arte Moreno and the Angels,'' Jamie McCourt said. ``Our entire focus is on the Dodgers, the Dodgers fans and the Dodgers organization. I wish people could really understand how much we really care about this organization, how much we care about winning a championship on the field and how much we care about the people in the organization. From that standpoint, we wish people knew us better. I think it will take them a while to understand that that is who we are.''

Tony Jackson, [phone]

tony.jackson(at)dailynews.com

TODAY

BOSTON at BALTIMORE

5 p.m.; ESPN2

CAPTION(S):

2 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) no caption (Frank McCourt)

(2) Although hurt and bewildered by the early criticism, Dodgers owner Frank McCourt and his wife Jamie are not discouraged by it.

David Sprague/Staff Photographer