From the TV listings in the British newspaper Guardian of Sept. 29, 1984:
AMERICAN FOOTBALL: San Diego Chargers v. LA Dodgers.
Few prominent baseball figures have receded into the mists of time as rapidly as Walter Alston, for 23 years the manager of the Brooklyn and Los Angeles Dodgers, who died last week at the age of 72. It's a shame, for Alston was one of the most successful managers in baseball history. Yet even his election last year to the Hall of Fame occurred without much fanfare; some unknowing baseball observers went so far as to suggest that he really didn't belong in the Cooperstown pantheon.
The curious indifference to Alston's remarkable managerial career stems in large part from his quiet, retiring nature. Unlike Leo Durocher and other colorful managers of the past, Alston was a man to whom legend and anecdote did not cling—and history, in a sense, is publicity. Ask the average fan who was the better manager, Alston or Durocher (with whom he is often compared, and not often favorably), and the probable reply will be, "Are you kidding? Durocher." Yet Alston's record is distinctly superior. Granted, where a team finishes in the standings isn't the ultimate criterion for judging managerial skills; nonetheless, it's revealing to compare Alston and Durocher that way. Durocher managed in the majors for 24 seasons, one more than Alston. Durocher won three pennants and one World Series and finished second seven times. Alston won seven pennants and four World Series and finished second eight times. Durocher, a George Patton in baseball spikes, could fire up a team for a game, or a stretch drive or a season. Alston, more the Omar Bradley type, sustained his achievements. As someone once said, summing up the contrast between the two men, "If you were in a room and the ceiling began to fall, Leo would figure a way to get you out. Walt would have had the ceiling fixed."