DATE: Friday, April 18, 1997                TAG: 9704180012

SECTION: LOCAL                   PAGE: B11  EDITION: FINAL 

TYPE: Opinion 

SOURCE: Keith Monroe 

                                            LENGTH:  145 lines

SOMETIMES THE BEST HEROES ARE LOCAL AND LIFESIZE

Even in our cynical times, humans evidently require heroes. This week Americans lost one and gained another.

According to a 500-page report by the Justice Department's attorney general, the vaunted FBI crime lab was not above slanting the evidence, botching investigations and behaving in a generally unprofessional manner. An image carefully nurtured from J. Edgar Hoover to Efrem Zimbalist Jr. is in tatters.

On the plus side of the ledger, there's Tiger Woods. Even people who can't tell a niblick from a mashie (and who can?) are aware this kid is something special.

In some quarters, the young golf prodigy may be revered for earning $60 million from endorsements even before winning any tournaments or for his attractive humility in an era dominated by sports megalomaniacs or for advancing the cause of diversity. Even for making the men who have dominated the game lately - players with all the charisma of middle-age accountants - look silly.

But I suspect most people who tuned in to watch Tiger were simply taking pleasure in watching someone do something supremely well. Of course, master bricklayers and poets don't have the same kinds of paydays as grown men playing games. Still, there is an aesthetic pleasure to watching a master at work in any field.

And all masters have in common an apparent effortlessness. Years ago there were a couple of public TV series that showed Pablo Casals and Andres Segovia giving master classes in cello and guitar to young tyros. In each instance, the students would perform strenuously only to be interrupted by the master.

``Very nice, but the tempo must be a bit faster. Try it like this.''

And then Segovia or Casals, appearing to be half asleep and barely moving, would render the same passage at double the speed. The students would goggle at the masters as if witnessing a miracle. Which, of course, they were. That's the way the rest of the field was looking at Tiger by the end of the Master's.

Unfortunately, prodigies are few and far between, but the need for heroes remains. So we end up as a culture idolizing TV actors, supermodels and presidents. Not surprisingly, such weak vessels often disappoint. The average president, it is worth remembering, is - well - average. And we've been going through a patch of Millard Fillmores and Chester Arthurs lately. That's not surprising. Expecting every Ford to be a Lincoln is the mistake.

Fixating on outsize heroes is also a dubious idea. Before worldwide, 24-hours-a-day, hot-and-cold running media, there used to be such a thing as the local hero. And a very pleasant, lifesize institution it was.

Few of us can hope to emulate a Tiger Woods. And there aren't many Warren Buffetts or Bill Gateses around, whose chief distinguishing feature is the freakish size of their wealth. But there are plenty of Horatio Algers at hand.

I attended a lunch this week at which William P. Fricks, chairman of Newport News Shipbuilding spoke. Here was a tough, plain-spoken 30-year veteran of the huge shipyard trying to adapt to rapidly changing circumstances. If life were a movie, Tommy Lee Jones would play his part.

Fricks is trying to solidify his core military business even as it shrinks. At the same time, he's seeking to reduce costs and increase efficiencies in order to enter new businesses - building double-hulled tankers for domestic consumption and frigates for foreign customers.

Fricks will never be a media darling, and the shipbuilder will never be Intel. But if he can execute his plan, the shipbuilder will survive and prosper. That makes him a role model worth emulating. Some heroes get that way by playing as well as possible the hand they've been dealt.

In Richmond, Gordon Davies - after 20 years as the consummate bureaucrat - got the shove. He differed with the Allen administration on some fundamental principles regarding the higher-education needs of Virginia. He chose not to compromise and that was that. Sometimes you can lose your seat at the table by standing up for what you believe in, but that's also a kind of heroism and worth celebrating.

And then there are the men and women of the Virginia Symphony. JoAnn Falletta may never be lionized like a Leonard Bernstein, and the players of the symphony will always be underpaid and under-appreciated compared to their peers in bigger, richer organizations. But pay, acclaim and PR are one thing, the excellence of one's performance is another. The Virginia Symphony performed triumphantly this week in New York. Local heroes, indeed. E ven in our cynical times, humans evidently require heroes. This week Americans lost one and gained another.

According to a 500-page report by the Justice Department's attorney general, the vaunted FBI crime lab was not above slanting the evidence, botching investigations and behaving in a generally unprofessional manner. An image carefully nurtured from J. Edgar Hoover to Efrem Zimbalist Jr. is in tatters.

On the plus side of the ledger, there's Tiger Woods. Even people who can't tell a niblick from a mashie (and who can?) are aware this kid is something special.

In some quarters, the young golf prodigy may be revered for earning $60 million from endorsements even before winning any tournaments or for his attractive humility in an era dominated by sports megalomaniacs or for advancing the cause of diversity. Even for making the men who have dominated the game lately - players with all the charisma of middle-age accountants - look silly.

But I suspect most people who tuned in to watch Tiger were simply taking pleasure in watching someone do something supremely well. Of course, master bricklayers and poets don't have the same kinds of paydays as grown men playing games. Still, there is an aesthetic pleasure to watching a master at work in any field.

And all masters have in common an apparent effortlessness. Years ago there were a couple of public TV series that showed Pablo Casals and Andres Segovia giving master classes in cello and guitar to young tyros. In each instance, the students would perform strenuously only to be interrupted by the master.

``Very nice, but the tempo must be a bit faster. Try it like this.''

And then Segovia or Casals, appearing to be half asleep and barely moving, would render the same passage at double the speed. The students would goggle at the masters as if witnessing a miracle. Which, of course, they were. That's the way the rest of the field was looking at Tiger by the end of the Master's.

Unfortunately, prodigies are few and far between, but the need for heroes remains. So we end up as a culture idolizing TV actors, supermodels and presidents. Not surprisingly, such weak vessels often disappoint. The average president, it is worth remembering, is - well - average. And we've been going through a patch of Millard Fillmores and Chester Arthurs lately. That's not surprising. Expecting every Ford to be a Lincoln is the mistake.

Fixating on outsize heroes is also a dubious idea. Before worldwide, 24-hours-a-day, hot-and-cold running media, there used to be such a thing as the local hero. And a very pleasant, lifesize institution it was.

Few of us can hope to emulate a Tiger Woods. And there aren't many Warren Buffetts or Bill Gateses around, whose chief distinguishing feature is the freakish size of their wealth. But there are plenty of Horatio Algers at hand.

I attended a lunch this week at which William P. Fricks, chairman of Newport News Shipbuilding spoke. Here was a tough, plain-spoken 30-year veteran of the huge shipyard trying to adapt to rapidly changing circumstances. If life were a movie, Tommy Lee Jones would play his part.

Fricks is trying to solidify his core military business even as it shrinks. At the same time, he's seeking to reduce costs and increase efficiencies in order to enter new businesses - building double-hulled tankers for domestic consumption and frigates for foreign customers.

Fricks will never be a media darling, and the shipbuilder will never be Intel. But if he can execute his plan, the shipbuilder will survive and prosper. That makes him a role model worth emulating. Some heroes get that way by playing as well as possible the hand they've been dealt.

In Richmond, Gordon Davies - after 20 years as the consummate bureaucrat - got the shove. He differed with the Allen administration on some fundamental principles regarding the higher-education needs of Virginia. He chose not to compromise and that was that. Sometimes you can lose your seat at the table by standing up for what you believe in, but that's also a kind of heroism and worth celebrating.

And then there are the men and women of the Virginia Symphony. JoAnn Falletta may never be lionized like a Leonard Bernstein, and the players of the symphony will always be underpaid and under-appreciated compared to their peers in bigger, richer organizations. But pay, acclaim and PR are one thing, the excellence of one's performance is another. The Virginia Symphony performed triumphantly this week in New York. Local heroes, indeed. MEMO: Mr. Monroe is editor of the editorial page of The Virginian-Pilot.

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