TARNISHED HALOS; DISNEY, ANGELS FAILING TO SOAR.

Byline: Eric Noland Daily News Staff Writer

The Walt Disney Co., after buying operational control of the Angels two years ago, moved patiently and conservatively. The Fox Group, in the wake of its purchase of the Dodgers this year, placed its thumb over the bottle and shook a tradition-rich franchise to an explosive fizz.

But the Anaheim Angels, despite fielding a first-place team and performing in a dramatically renovated stadium, strain to draw fans. In contrast, the Dodgers, facing a tailspin on the field and turmoil off it, continue to pack them in at home - drawing nearly 10,000 more fans per game than the Angels.

It is a source of some bewilderment for the entertainment wizards at Disney. But they were aware when they bought into the Angels they were inheriting a boxcar of baggage. They anticipated an uphill battle.

``The key issue for this team is winning,'' Angels President Tony Tavares said recently. ``I'd like to tell you that we could sprinkle a little pixie dust and get a magic wand and just swing it over the top of the stadium and have everybody come.

``The fact is, there has been a fair amount of disappointment with this team over the years. There have been pockets of success, but nothing that has been sustained over a long period. I think until we prove to everybody that we are for real and that we are going to be a contender on an ongoing basis, that becomes the critical issue.''

The Dodgers' historic success undoubtedly contributes to the depth of their fan allegiance. They've played in nine World Series since moving west from Brooklyn, N.Y., 40 years ago, winning five. That's why their fans are more likely to roll with tumult, even when it involves the exodus of Mike Piazza, Hideo Nomo, Bill Russell, Fred Claire and Todd Zeile over a 39-day period.

The Angels' on-field legacy is one of heartbreak, and it seems to have created an air of wariness among its fans.

The club endured the checkered decision-making of Buzzie, Whitey and Jackie - which often proved every bit as perplexing as that of Dopey, Sneezy and Doc. There were ill-advised trades and devastating free-agent decisions and headlong pratfalls at the very threshold of the World Series.

And the people who follow the fortunes of the Angels seem to have long memories, with bruises to match.

Attendance woes

The Angels, despite operating this season with a marketing budget that is 10 times that of a typical year late in the Gene Autry regime, were averaging just 28,409 fans a game entering Monday night's meeting with the Dodgers in Anaheim. The Dodgers, despite a tailspin on the field and turmoil of it, are averaging 38,254 fans per home game.

Disney has come to learn the Angels have a small core of support, but efforts to broaden it are defied stubbornly.

During 1993 and 1994, the two seasons that preceded Autry's decision to sell 25 percent of the club and surrender operational control to the entertainment giant, the Angels averaged 26,168 fans per game during April, May and June. So far this year - with geysers and beer gardens and fireworks and giveaways of ``The Little Mermaid'' videotapes - the Angels have boosted that average by only about 2,200 fans.

The difference is a hiccup.

Nine dates into June, the Angels' per-game attendance average in shimmering, new Edison Field is less than two-thirds of capacity.

``Baseball is an interesting product,'' said Mary Gilly, who teaches services-marketing courses at the graduate school of management at the University of California, Irvine.

``It's a little different than movies and so forth in that the quality is less controllable. You have injuries, and you have things happen. You can't control a winning season. You can influence it by the amounts you invest in players and so forth, but injuries happen, things don't click, there are better teams.''

In the Angels' first 35 years in Southern California, they seemed to get a sadistic ration of all of the above - though much of the misfortune was of their own making. Then, just before Disney engineered its purchase, fan disenchantment was further deepened by a lengthy players' strike.

``The bottom line for us is all the marketing in the world is not going to sell a bad product,'' said Tim Mead, the Angels' vice president of communications who has been with the club since '81.

``In this off-season, contrary to some analysis, we felt we had a very good ballclub. The ballpark sold itself in April. But I think, ultimately, the people who have been around and followed this club since '66 in Anaheim and '61 in Southern California expect more than bells and whistles.''

The Angels appear to be providing both: a sound product on the field plus some of the most aggressive marketing in the entertainment business.

Despite an epidemic of injuries, the team occupies first place in the American League West, having won 18 of 21 games entering Monday's meeting with the Dodgers.

Meanwhile, the Angels' effort to get people to notice what's being done has been exhaustive.

``We recognize there are new fans to win over, and we're trying to institute programs to do that,'' said Spencer Neumann, director of sports planning for Disney's Anaheim Sports Inc.

Stadium makeover

Step one was applying the wrecking ball to the outfield walls of that ghastly, ghostly cavern formerly known as Anaheim Stadium, which had tried to be a home to both pro football and baseball since 1980. In its place stands Edison Field, with a more intimate configuration (45,050 seats), a sweeping view to the northeast and a Frontierland jumble of boulders behind the center-field fence.

Walk by this place today and you can hardly believe it's the same site that once housed the Big A.

As for the games themselves, gone are the between-inning sideshows and deafening music and announcements that Disney initially instituted to spice up games. The presentation today conforms to a more solid foundation: special pricing for kids ($2 to $4) and adults ($4 to $6) in the outfield pavilions, so as to attract more families; more than twice as many promotional nights as in the past; firework shows every Friday night.

An area offering interactive baseball activities is scheduled to open in a couple of weeks.

``In 1982,'' Mead said, ``our marketing was Tom Seeberg. He came up with the caps, the bats, the balls. We put in 2.8 million people (an Angels attendance record). You know what our marketing was? Reggie Jackson, hitting the long ball and winning. Those times have changed, but I don't care what you say, when all is said and done - this applies to the Dodgers, the Braves and anybody else - it's winning. Period.

``We have not tried to sell something that's not here.''

The task of convincing well-worn followers of the Angels that it is, in fact, here and here to stay will likely command all of Disney's persuasive might.

``Unfortunately,'' Tavares said, ``we're in a society that's into instant gratification. . . . Patience is a key here. As Florida found out, you don't turn things around just instantly. It takes time to build that fan base back up again.''

Or, in the case of the Angels, build it beyond the small assembly of die-hards it has always been.

CAPTION(S):

3 photos, box

PHOTO (1 -- color) Despite leading their division and many Disney-orchestrated stadium changes, California Angels' attendance is lagging.

(2 -- color) Disney executives and sports analysts say the biggest hurdle to packing Angels home games is the franchise's history of losing.

(3 -- color) Even though Disney has wrought many atmospheric changes to the Angels stadium, as many as a third of seats remain deserted.

Phil McCarten/Daily News

Box: Dodgers vs. Angels: A fan's guide