PASTA LA VISTA, TOMMY.

Byline: Dennis McCarthy 

No more Tommy Lasorda in Dodger blue? You gotta be kidding. That's like linguine without clams, spaghetti without meatballs, fettuccine without Alfredo.

With grace, dignity, a few bittersweet laughs, and some tears in his eyes, Tommy Lasorda stepped down as manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers on Monday.

He stepped down reluctantly, but wisely. He knew that with a bad ticker he could never again be the fireball brand of manager he had always been.

It was too late in the game to change his ways.

For the past two decades Lasorda has been the skipper of the best baseball team for the best franchise in the best city in America.

Don't believe it? Just ask Tommy. He'll set you straight. He always has.

The mood around this city Monday among baseball fans had the look of a failed ninth-inning rally in a tight pennant race in late September.

No more Tommy running - no, make that waddling - out of the dugout at full speed to give one of his players a hug after a game-winning hit, or give the umpire hell for a bad call?

No more sermons from the mound about that big Dodger in the sky shining on L.A., or how we had the best baseball fans in the country, bar none?

Love him or hate him, you could never doubt him. Tommy was our guy - our own Charles Kuralt traveling the country, spreading the Dodger gospel, and, by extension, the L.A. gospel.

He said Monday that he was honored to be able to represent Los Angeles and the Dodgers for two decades. It cuts both ways. The honor was ours, as well.

Los Angeles never had, or ever will, a better ambassador of goodwill and salesmanship than Tommy Lasorda.

Baseball was his game, but motivation was his life.

From selling diet supplement drinks to getting sick kids out of hospital beds. The man was - is - a master of motivation.

A couple of years back, I watched him give a pep talk to a group of Realtors and sales personnel having trouble moving some slow-selling new homes in the hills above the Valley. Tommy almost had me taking out my checkbook.

``Certain people in life are gifted with motivational skills, and Tommy's one of the most gifted I've ever seen,'' comedian Tom Dressen said Monday, stunned at the news that his friend Lasorda was retiring.

``He took teams that shouldn't have gone as far as they did, and made them believe in themselves,'' said the Chicago native and lifelong Cubs fan.

``The only conflict Tommy and I ever had was over my Cubdom. He couldn't believe that anyone could live in this city and not be a Dodger fan.

``He's meant so much to Los Angeles and the people living here. Tommy's a working-class guy. When we think of him we don't think of some guy from the university, from Notre Dame or USC.

``We think of a guy from the neighborhood. The kind of guy who'd talk to you if you sat next to him on the plane or bus. Always approachable.''

Up in the stands where the fans sit, the reaction to Lasorda's announcement Monday was much the same - stunned disbelief.

``Holy cow,'' said a shocked Tony Kneip of Burbank, a season-ticket holder since Dodger Stadium opened in 1962.

``Tommy's been such a great asset to this ballclub and this city,'' Kneip said. ``He's brought people out to the ballpark just because of who he is - a real, genuine man and a nice guy. Will I miss him? Amen.''

Dale Kile of Valencia, a season-ticket holder since 1973, thinks the transition from the Lasorda years to the Bill Russell managerial years will be smooth, as it was from former Dodger manager Walter Alston to Lasorda.

``But Tommy's certainly going to be missed because of his enthusiasm and wonderful ambassadorship for the game of baseball,'' Kile said.

Over in West Hills, the only news worse than Tommy retiring would be if Vin Scully decided to call it a broadcasting career, said Ginny Procter, who prefers her baseball on radio, rather than attending games.

``Over the years, I've screamed at Tommy for making dumb moves, praised him for making good moves, and second-guessed him to the heavens, but I've always respected his loyalty to the O'Malley family, his team, and his city,'' she said.

``I think when you think of the Dodgers, you think of Tommy before you think of any one Dodger player. He is the Dodgers. It's definitely not going to be the same without him in the dugout.''

But time breaks up all the great acts of the day. Burns and Allen. Martin and Lewis. Vince Lombardi and the Packers. Casey Stengel and the Yankees.

And now, Tommy Lasorda and the Dodgers.

He still will be around, sitting up there in Peter O'Malley's private box as a vice president in civilian clothes - telling and retelling old baseball stories to VIPs about how the big Dodger in the sky pulled out another game in the bottom of the ninth for his favorite team.

They'll laugh and slap him on the back, and Tommy will tell one more story.

But you know where his heart will be - down on the field, in the dugout with the players.

At the end of the bench where he spent two decades as the manager of the best baseball team for the best franchise in the best city in America.

Just ask him.

MEMO: Dennis McCarthy's column appears Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Sunday.