September 30, 1984

FRESH from producing a $150 million profit for the Summer Olympics by doing the Games his way, Peter Ueberroth becomes the new commissioner of baseball tomorrow. He plans to do that job his way, too. ''I think the owners' perception of what I am and what I intend to be are probably not the same,'' Ueberroth said. ''I won't be a commissioner for the owners. I told them that several times. I'll probably have to tell them a lot more times. I will be commissioner for baseball.'' In taking that approach, Ueberroth said he would not represent the owners in the approaching negotiations for a new basic agreement between them and the players. Rather, he explained, he will try to induce the two sides to ''meet on some common grounds.''

Harrods, the elegant London department store, has always been on the ''must see'' list for tourists. But nowadays, Americans are flocking there for a different reason.

AMONG those rushing toward the gate of Penn Station's Track 17 during the evening rush hour can be found a new breed of commuter - not city emigres who have sought suburban greenery in which to raise children, but young, native Long Islanders who brave the daily trip for the sake of their urban jobs. Although the Long Island economy remains strong - employment figures have been running at record levels for months, and the unemployment rate has been about half that of the national averages - many people entering the job market in earnest are doing so in New York City. The number of commuters on the Long Island Rail Road continues to show a steady increase, indicating a preference among some for jobs in the city. By and large, it is the promise of career advancement and higher pay that lures the new commuters onto early morning trains. For some, it is the high city rents that keep them riding back eight hours later; for others, it is the calm and outdoor pleasures of Long Island life. Many have returned home after college, temporarily moving back into the family nest.

IN 1980, the automotive industry seemed to be on the road to irreversible ruin. The General Motors Corporation, the largest of the automakers, registered the first loss in its modern history -- a staggering $763 million. G.M., the Ford Motor Corporation and the Chrysler Corporation together sold a respectable 6.6 million cars that year but racked up a loss of nearly $4 billion. Four grueling years later, the industry has engineered a U-turn in the direction of solid profitability. The Big Three have all made changes -- in technology, design and in dealings with the Japanese -- that have improved their productivity and lowered dramatically the number of cars they need to produce to generate profits. While they are selling only slightly more cars than in 1980, the Big Three are expected to report huge profits this year. And earlier this month another hurdle was cleared with the tentative contract reached by the United Auto Workers union and G.M. Basically, what the pioneering settlement gives the largest automaker -- and the other auto companies, should they follow suit as expected -- is maximum flexibility in the way it does business.

EVEN Prince Paris got it wrong. His prize-giving of the golden apple led to his own death and the ruin of Troy. All human awards are fallible. Time and again, immortality goes to the blackballed, to the salon des refuses in which the Impressionist masters exhibited their officially rejected and ridiculed paintings. At the height of his genius, Schoenberg was turned down for a Guggenheim. The gentle soul who refused Einstein academic employment in Switzerland died peacefully not so very long ago. In the natural and exact sciences, nevertheless, error, blind oversight, are thought to be less frequent. There have been bizarre Nobel Prizes: a recent award half a century after the relevant discovery, two coronations of laureates who had, in fact, only perfected laboratory mechanics (one of whom is now reported to be the only Nobel Prize winner unemployed and in a marginal social circumstance). The Nobel in medicine, physics and chemistry has gone rather more often than probability would suggest to members of the Swedish Academy and establishment, i.e. to those closely involved in the choice of recipients. There has been bitchiness (was Jonas Salk denied the Prize because professional rivals resented the somewhat flamboyant presentation of his polio vaccine?). But on the whole, and across the decades, the far-flung network of scientists who nominate candidates and referee their work has honored true princes.