In Love With a Loser : Sports: Mellow Angels fans stick by their team through the bad times--and those very rare good times.

ANAHEIM —  Saturday dawned ominously. It was sunny and warm. Skies were blue. A pleasant summer breeze played in from the coast.

It could only mean one thing: The Angels would lose again that night.

Nowadays if you’re a California Angels fan, everything portends disaster. Birds singing in trees. The squeak disappearing from your dashboard. A $20 bill turning up in the sofa. All foreshadow more pain at the ballpark.

Angels fans have long been baseball’s bland but faithful lovers--stood-up yet loyal, uncomplaining in spite of the letdowns.

But this season may be the cruelest yet. After teasing their fans with a rush for the pennant, after actually being in first place on July 3, the Angels have plunged to the cellar in only a month.

If this had happened to a Boston or New York franchise, cops would be using metal detectors at the stadium gates. But here, the most common reaction is grin-and-bear-it resignation.

“Orange County’s not like other cities,” said Alan Brooks, one of the Anaheim Stadium ushers waiting for the gates to open Saturday night. “They’re more mellow here. Really, they’re not angry.”

Proof: The Angels front office admits it has discussed firing manager Doug Rader, but 64% of Angels fans are strongly against doing it. Only 13% are in favor.

The figures come from good authority: Joe, one of the stadium bartenders. He polled 97 drinkers at his bar. “Those who said, ‘No, don’t fire him,’ were very assertive,” Joe said. “Those who said ‘yes’ were kind of uncertain.”

Joe added that he takes no position personally and that “Joe” is not his real name. “I like working here,” he said.

And the fans apparently still like coming here. To watch the Angels lose Saturday to the hated A’s from Oakland, 44,385 paid their way in.

Soon after the gates opened, Art Schuerman of Lakewood was in his seat, closely watching the field with eyes that have seen a lot of baseball.

“I’m on the Milwaukee (Brewers) payroll as a scout. I root for the Angels, unless Milwaukee’s in town. I’m out here every night. I’d come no matter what. I love baseball.

“I wouldn’t say I’m not discouraged, but I’ve been following the Angels for 30 years. I’m kind of used to their win-loss record.”

Out by the left-field foul pole, Randy DuMontier of Whittier had adopted the tactic of many Angels fans: concentrating on something else.

He was wearing his Angels jersey and fielder’s glove, but he was rooting for A’s infielder Mark McGwire to hit a home run. This was, after all, only batting practice, and long study had taught him that McGwire hit them right about here, a few rows back from the rail.

No, he said, he has not turned his back on the Angels. “I’m not discouraged. I’ve gotten used to it--that nothing’s going to happen this year. So if I get a ball, it’s OK. I got two last week.”

Ralph Navarette of Eagle Rock, there with his 18-year-old son, Jamie, said he remains an Angels fan, but “let’s face it: it’s too late this year. There’s always next year.” He was not wearing his Angels cap this time because he forgot it at at home, he explained. No, really, he just forgot it, he said.

Angels fans, “they’re getting mad,” Jamie said with a satisfied grin. Jamie was in full A’s costume. “They’re down all the time, frustrated.”

“We were in first place,” said his father.

There were cracks visible in fan loyalty, however. After asking the eight guys in the luxury box whether any were Angels fans, there was only silence, then a lone volunteer: “Yeah, I’ll root for them.” The rest broke into laughter. “Yeah, if you look at the paper upside down, they’re in first,” cracked a companion.

Down in the dream seats near home plate, David Brewer of San Diego ate his sushi and explained why he’d come so far. “I’m a Padres fan, and compared to them, this is the big leagues. I just wanted to see a Major League team. Well, the A’s are here at least.”

How much of this can a player hear before slipping into depression? Jim Abbott, one of the Angels’ starting pitchers, had been to a boys’ baseball camp only a few days earlier and had told them, “I think we have a good team, and I can’t figure out why we’re not winning.”

He asked the boys, most Little League age, what they thought of the Angels.

“They stink,” called out one boy.

A few rows behind the Angels dugout, Mark Gersonde of Garden Grove explained how you survive a year like this one. “I’ve been coming here since 1967. I’m used to it. You become a baseball fan. You find yourself rooting for one Angel.”

How about jumping to the Dodgers?

“Never,” Gersonde said. “Never, never!”

“There’s another one,” groaned the guy next to him, Joe Jenkins of Anaheim. Out in left field, a ball hit by the A’s Mike Gallego was sailing over the left field fence.

“Put this in the paper,” said Jenkins. “The Angels try to steal when they’re behind and they’re picked off. That’s the manager,” Jenkins said. “I say, ‘Goodby, Doug, goodby.’ ”

The game ended on a 3-to-1 loss and as if mocking the Angels fans, fireworks from Disneyland lit up the ramps as the crowd walked out.

Within a few minutes, “Angel Talk” was on the radio, and the fans were calling in for their regular group therapy.

“I have this all figured out,” said one caller. “It’s still July 3 and I’m dreaming and I’ll be waking up any minute now.”