PENNANT RACE VS. PENANCE.

Byline: KAREN CROUSE

Tony Phillips keeps telling Angels general manager Bill Bavasi he is saddened by what happened in the wee hours of Aug. 10. The veteran outfielder has told Bavasi repeatedly he realizes he has no one to blame but himself.

One question remains, and it's bound to choke the Anaheim Stadium air like humidity now that Phillips, who is facing felony cocaine-possession charges, has been cleared to play by an independent arbitrator:

Should penance and a pennant race go hand in glove?

If not for the fact he missed his first scheduled flight out of New York, Phillips would have had an outside shot at getting to Anaheim Stadium in time to suit up for the second game of the Angels' doubleheader Wednesday against the Yankees.

With the injuries adding up (catcher Todd Greene was the latest casualty, fracturing his right wrist in the first game) and the days left to overtake the Mariners whittling down, the Angels could have used Phillips, and therein lies their dilemma.

The Walt Disney Co., which owns the Angels, tried a cut-and-dried approach, suspending Phillips earlier in the week after he refused to enter a drug-treatment center. But the Major League Players Association filed a grievance on Phillips' behalf and on Wednesday arbitrator Richard Bloch overturned the suspension.

So the players' union, flush from its success in keeping Wilton Cordero on the Boston Red Sox's payroll after he was charged with spousal assault, can claim another hollow victory.

The Angels, despite losing the arbitration hearing, also came out ahead. They held their moral ground by suspending Phillips with pay, thus showing they have little tolerance for illegal drugs. Yet they are ``stuck'' with the services of a player whose skills certainly will help them in the homestretch of a tight pennant race.

Indeed, the only real loser to emerge from this ethical game of pickle was Phillips himself. His refusal to acquiesce to the Angels' wishes and seek extensive inpatient treatment reeks of denial, which is the accomplice of any addict.

Phillips' problems don't figure to end with his return to the Angels' lineup. Whatever steered him to a dingy motel room in Anaheim after a night game against Baltimore does not figure to be shaken off as easily as a foul tip on the shin.

If only some of the Angels would wake up. It's not as though Phillips has sat out the past 11 games because he overslept.

That the veteran outfielder could have overdosed in the room where he was arrested on Aug. 10 with free-base cocaine paraphernalia in one hand and a lighter in the other seems lost on outfielder Jim Edmonds, who said Tuesday, ``Without a doubt, we want him back.''

Before the Angels took the field against the Yankees on Wednesday, Edmonds fleshed out his position, never mind that in doing so he pared Phillips into something as one-dimensional as a baseball card - all statistics and no substance.

``That's what he's here to do - play,'' Edmonds said.

And then what? The game can insulate Phillips, 38, for a few hours. But what happens when he leaves the cocoon of the clubhouse?

Bavasi said one of the reasons the players support Phillips' return is that ``he's better off with them than alone.''

But wouldn't Phillips be better off still with trained personnel who care only about getting to the root of why he felt compelled to buy $30 of rock cocaine from an undercover officer? Walt Disney Co. officials obviously believed so or they wouldn't have suspended him in the first place, suggesting he seek something more extensive than the league-mandated program of random drug testing and outpatient counseling.

But away from the boardroom, the view in the Angels' clubhouse was decidedly different.

``If a person in the real world gets arrested, they don't miss two weeks of work just because of principle,'' Edmonds said. ``If it wasn't in the paper every day, it wouldn't be a big deal.''

Less than a half-hour before receiving the news of the arbitration panel's decision, Angels manager Terry Collins said he'd have no qualms playing Phillips today if his suspension was overturned.

``He's the reason why we're sitting here today,'' Collins said.

Collins's mandate is clear: He is here to mold a championship contender, not an overgrown Boy Scouts troop. As such, he dwells in practicalities, not principles.

And so it was that Collins was able to lean back in the chair behind the desk in his office Wednesday and say without a trace of guilt that he'd ``absolutely'' like to have Phillips back in the lineup.

``I'm not the judge and jury,'' Collins said. ``That stuff's out of my hands.''

Virtue remains within the Angels' grasp. The club could take the ultimate stand against drug use and release Phillips. But that's not likely.

There are too many people in the organization below Disney chief executive officer Michael Eisner who are blinded by Phillips' speed, versatility and lively bat.

And there are too few people who cringe, as does Bavasi, at the thought of having to go home to their children and make sense of the whole sorry mess.

``I will tell you one thing,'' said Bavasi, who has an 8-year-old daughter and a 10-year-old son, ``this gave us an opportunity to talk about drugs and what's wrong with them.''

It's a pity there's not more of an outcry that at least that much be done for Phillips.