THE QUIET MAN : AFTER THREE DECADES IN THE DODGERS' ORGANIZATION, RUSSELL MAKES A MOOTH TRANSITION TO THE HELM IN HIS FIRST FULL SEASON.

Byline: Kevin Acee Daily News Staff Writer

Bill Russell, in full uniform, 15 minutes before a spring-training game at Dodgertown, walks unfettered through the crowd and takes a seat in the Holman Stadium stands.

He sits there, two rows in front of his wife and some friends and not five feet behind a group of fans. He is unnoticed.

Just a regular Bill.

Tom Lasorda, who managed the Dodgers for 19-plus seasons, drove into Holman Stadium each day in his personalized golf cart as ``Hail to the Chief'' blared over the loudspeakers.

``Hell with the chief,'' Russell says.

When Russell ascended to baseball's most-celebrated, and most-celebrity-laden, managerial position, he succeeded the game's most-recognizable man.

The reaction was a collective nonreaction, much like what you get from Russell a lot of the time.

``It's kind of taken some of the glamour away because I was here,'' admitted the 48-year-old Russell, a Dodger in some capacity or another since 1966. ``I just kind of stepped in and took over. It was the smoothest transition you'll ever find.''

Taking the glamour away from Bill Russell. Now that's something. First, the glamour must be found.

It's jeans and a polo shirt. It's restoring antiques instead of rubbing elbows with celebrities. It's a soft voice with a Midwestern twang.

``Every once in a while I say, `Are you excited?' '' said Susan, Russell's wife of two months. ``His expression doesn't change.''

Those who know Russell say this serves him well.

The Dodgers don't have to take on their manager's personality. They already have it. There are not a lot of characters in the clubhouse. Come to work, do your job, go home. That's Russell.

``He's got the personality to be real consistent with these guys,'' said Ron Roenicke, manager of the Dodgers' Double-A affiliate and a teammate of Russell's from 1981 to '83. ``They know Bill isn't going to panic. He's going to stick with them. What he was as a player - real consistent and calm - he's going to bring that consistency. They know what they're going to get from him.''

Russell, who entered the Dodgers organization as a minor-leaguer in 1966, played eight seasons (1969-76) for Walter Alston (1977-86) and 10 seasons for Lasorda. He joined Lasorda's coaching staff immediately upon retirement.

Lasorda made it clear over the years he preferred Russell as his successor. By the time Russell returned in 1993 from a two-year stint as manager of the Albuquerque Dukes, the Dodgers' Triple-A club, it had become accepted, almost as fact, that Russell would assume the throne.

But when?

``Probably two years ago it started, me thinking about when Tommy was going to retire. And would I get a chance?'' Russell said. ``I knew I'd be considered, but there are no guarantees.''

Dodgers executive vice president Fred Claire asked Russell in 1991 to leave his job as coach with the major-league club to manage at Albuquerque, but there was no promise it would lead to the big job.

There was simply the unspoken understanding that the experience was best for Russell.

``He wasn't thrilled,'' Claire said.

When Russell returned, he had learned how to manage - to be the final decision-maker, to be psychologist and disciplinarian and cheerleader.

``I enjoyed it,'' Russell said. ``It came fairly easy - I guess because I was prepared.''

He resumed his duties as Lasorda's bench coach in Los Angeles, working closer than ever with Lasorda.

When Lasorda left the team last June 24, undergoing an angioplasty two days later, Russell managed the Dodgers to a 14-16 record. The team went from two games up to a game behind San Diego in the Western Division.

Claire insists the permanent job was not Russell's at that time, though owner Peter O'Malley said that when he ultimately made the decision, ``He was clearly the man for the job. The way the team responded to his leadership last year . . . I thought he kept the team together extremely well.''

When Lasorda announced his retirement on July 29, Russell was named manager and received a two-year contract. The Dodgers would eventually move ahead of the Padres by 2-1/2 games before losing the final four games of the regular season and three straight playoff games.

Russell inherited Lasorda's team last season. This year, the Dodgers are his club. This excites him, but you won't hear him say that.

``I see it as a continuation from last year,'' Russell says. ``I think everybody else does, too. They know me, my style, what I like to do.''

Lasorda implores people to let his pupil stand alone.

``You can't compare people,'' he says, almost yelling. ``Each guy has to do it his way. I don't like there to be comparisons between me and Billy.''

It takes about a second around the Dodgers clubhouse or dugout or batting practice to realize Lasorda is not there. A quiet guy is.

Walk into Russell's office, the picture-filled room that defined Lasorda, and see a mural. Clubhouse attendant Mitch Poole painted the view from the Dodger dugout. On another wall is an antique Dodgers sign. In the corner, a baseball bat lamp. It is a baseball room. Not a Bill Russell shrine.

Lasorda held court with the media and celebrities before games. Russell hits fungoes.

Russell dutifully gives interviews, but he clearly wants to be someplace else - like the dentist's office. He can be funny. And when he is, he knows it, giving reporters a cocksure grin.

He does not raise his voice, no matter how much he dislikes a question. Instead, he furrows his brow and gives much the same grin as when he knows he's being funny. Then he answers the question.

``He's easygoing,'' Susan says. ``He's quiet, but he's quiet in his own way. He isn't a quiet person to be around. . . . He's the agitator. He's ornery.''

Two days before the Super Bowl, a week before Russell left for Dodgertown, he and Susan went to Las Vegas. The next afternoon, they married.

Susan, a former professor at Cal State Northridge on leave from Long Beach State, works in Atlanta for the Centers for Disease Control. Her stint with the CDC is up soon. This summer, she will travel with Russell and the Dodgers.

``He asked me to,'' she says. ``He said, `I'd like to be with you as much as possible. . . .' In a way, I was surprised.''

Russell, a native of Pittsburg, Kan., was inducted into the Kansas Baseball Hall of Fame in January. Lasorda was the keynote speaker. Russell also spoke. Dodgers pitcher and Kansas resident Darren Dreifort, who attended the banquet, is asked if Russell's address paled in comparison to Lasorda's polished act.

``Yeah,'' Dreifort says, ``but everyone has heard Tommy's speech.''

THE BILL RUSSELL FILE

Age: 48.

Playing career: 1969-86. His 2,181 games is the second-most ever by a Dodgers player. Dodgers won three National League pennants and a World Series in his tenure. Three-time All-Star.

Coaching career: Dodgers bench coach from 1987-91 and '94-96. Coached in 1988 World Series.

Managing career: Albuquerque Dukes (Triple-A) manager in 1992 and '93, compiling 136-150 record. Managed Dodgers from June 25, 1996 to end of season, compiling record of 49-37.

CAPTION(S):

Photo, Photo Illutration, Box

Photo: (color) Dodgers manager Bill Russell approaches his work with less fanfare than his predecessor Tom Lasorda.

John McCoy/Daily News

Photo Illustration no caption (Bill Russell)