Deep Six

•Bonilla, who hit 28 home runs and knocked in 116 runs for the Baltimore Orioles last season, brings some punch to a position, third base, at which the Marlins ranked last in the league in home runs (11) and next-to-last in slugging percentage (.362) and extra-base hits (43). The switch-hitting Bonilla, who has played third, first and the outfield in his 11-year career (though his best position is DH), not only can protect Gary Sheffield—the National League's best righthanded hitter drove in 120 runs while walking 142 times last season—but will also do much of it from the left side. The Marlins batted a league-worst .251 against righties.

•The signing of Alou moves Jeff Conine from leftfield to first base and juices up the offense. Alou isn't among the Barry Bonds-Ken Griffey Jr. first rank of outfielders, but, when healthy, he's near the top of the B list.

•Leyland requested two spare, seasoned outfielders: one who could lead off an inning, another who could drive in a run. Cangelosi can lead off. Eisenreich can do everything. Dollar for dollar, the 37-year-old Eisenreich might turn out to be Florida's top free-agent bargain. He hit .361 last year with 24 doubles in 338 at bats for the Philadelphia Phillies, his fourth straight season batting at least .300. The switch-hitting Cangelosi, a onetime Leyland acolyte in Pittsburgh, had a .378 on-base percentage for the Houston Astros but was below the radar screen as a pinch hitter (1 for 28).

•After lefthanded hitters cuffed Florida southpaw relievers in '96, Dombrowski signed the 34-year-old Cook, who was tough on lefties (.206), tougher in clutch situations (only 16 of 81 inherited runners scored, and batters hit just .177 against him with runners in scoring position) and almost untouchable against the first hitters he faced (.065).

•Fernandez joins a starting rotation that in 1996 was known as Brown, Leiter and Lightweight. Kevin Brown and Al Leiter were a combined 33-23 with a 2.39 ERA; the other starters went 26-38 with a 4.91 ERA. Fernandez comes off four seasons in which his combined numbers (57-34, 3.52 ERA) were similar to those of Atlanta's John Smoltz from 1992 through '95. Last year Smoltz won the Cy Young Award. The more intriguing comparison is with Greg Maddux, who also left Chicago (the Cubs) as a free agent when he was turning 27. From age 22 to 26, Maddux won 22 more games than Fernandez, but their winning percentages (Maddux, .585; Fernandez, .580) and their ERAs (Maddux, 2.97; Fernandez, 3.52) were comparable. "Very few pitchers become free agents in their prime, Maddux being a rarity," Dombrowski says. "Alex certainly fits that category. Does a five-year contract for a pitcher concern me? Yeah. We stretched a bit, but that's where the market was. We could have signed another pitcher for four years and a few million less, but Alex has a special ability. He's someone we wanted very much."

Baseball has always had hometown heroes—Pete Rose in Cincinnati, Paul Molitor late in his career in Minnesota—but perhaps no local player has been more important to his city and franchise than Fernandez could be in Miami. His is not just the appeal of familiarity, a kid whose name has been in the local sports sections since he was in high school. He is Cuban-American, poster boy of a proud, passionate South Florida community that adores baseball, even if it doesn't show it by supporting the Marlins. "The feeling was, 'O.K., Cubans love baseball, build it and they will come,' " says Florida vice president of sales and marketing Jim Ross. "It hasn't happened that way." Fernandez can help. Since he signed on Dec. 9, the phones haven't stopped ringing at the Marlins' ticket office and at his house, 10 minutes from Pro Player Stadium.

But it wasn't only the Hispanic community that had grown indifferent to the Marlins. The club averaged 38,311 during its inaugural season in 1993, but baseball's suicide attempt the following year—the strike, the cancellation of the World Series—reduced the sport to just another South Florida amusement. "Baseball," Dombrowski says, "stopped being the happening thing to do." Florida's attendance fell to an average of 21,835 fans a game last year as the season-ticket base dwindled from a high of 20,000 in 1993 to 12,500. Huizenga has a notion of building a baseball-only stadium, but it hinges on how many South Floridians actually care about the Marlins.

Dombrowski took the Florida job with the idea of building from the ground up, developing a solid farm system and, when the team looked ready to win, topping off with free agents. He had a five-year plan. So, too, did Stalin, and it didn't do much for either of them. The organization has been productive—starting middle infielders Edgar Renteria and Luis Castillo and Gold Glove catcher Charles Johnson came from the minors—but it was taking too long. Florida's expansion rivals, the Colorado Rockies, went the expensive free-agent route right off and made the playoffs in 1995. The NFL's second-year Carolina Panthers are in the playoffs this season for the same reason. And while Huizenga didn't get to take home the Stanley Cup last spring when his third-year, $20 million-payroll Florida Panthers lost in the NHL finals to the Colorado Avalanche, he got a firsthand look at it.

Huizenga, who probably has started working on his third billion dollars, asked Dombrowski in September how much a fun baseball team, a quality team, would cost in 1997. Maybe $45 million, he was told. Huizenga, whose Marlins were 80-82 and lost a reported $18 million last season, said O.K. Even if the Marlins sell all 40,585 seats for their 81 home games next year, they still won't break even.

"Wayne's fallen in love with the Panthers," Dombrowski says. "Our goal is to have Wayne fall in love with the Marlins. He's not a baseball aficionado, he doesn't see the intricacies of the game, just like he wasn't a hockey aficionado. But I told him last year I can't wait until he sees the atmosphere of a pennant race, people hanging on every pitch. I hope we're all around for that."