The Trolley Dodger

It is perhaps a mark of the modern age that I feel like I need therapy to get over how bad things are for the Dodgers right now.

I envy those who can blithely separate what’s going on in the executive offices (and the courthouse) with what’s going on on the field, enjoying the latter while ignoring the former. In fact, as badly as the Dodgers are playing, I’m not even sure how the denial thing can function right now.

If the Dodgers were winning consistently, if their budget matched up with their media market, if if if…

Instead of if, here’s a fact: the Dodgers are in last place in the NL West. The NL West, for the love of Mike. Somebody will bring up how good the pitching is across the division. Pitching, smitching — we have some of the best pitchers in the game. This is a bad division that the Dodgers should be owning.

And speaking of owning, how about that Frank McCourt?

The seemingly endless muck and mire to which the McCourts (and, let’s face it, the Selig regime by dint of having given them the team) have subjected the Dodgers is just astounding. No matter what happens next, no matter who winds up owning the historic franchise, this has been a dark time, and it’s getting darker. It makes you want to stay away from Chavez Ravine, turn off the game, and find some quiet place in which you can meditate on the important things in life. You feel dirty just paying attention.

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Yesterday, ESPN Los Angeles asked (via the Dodger Thoughts blog), “Dodger fans, tell us your stories.”

Fair readers …. we at ESPNLosAngeles.com would like to hear from you about the Dodgers, and not just in the short-form comments section below. We’re asking you to submit your real-deal stories of how you became Dodger fans, what the team means to you and how recent events (um, I think you know what we mean) have affected you and that fandom.

They will be sharing some of the submissions on the website in the near future. My first contribution in the comments was,

“For sale: Manny wig, never worn.” *

A real submission from me would have to hearken back to my “Back in the day…” story, which I wrote five(!) years ago. Dodger fandom came late for me, only since about 2002-03. As I put it,

Above and beyond proximity, the Dodgers are a team with a long, rich history stretching back to the 19th century and filled with underdog heroes battling evil Giants and villainous Yankees — I’m a sucker for that kind of story.

The Dodgers and Jackie Robinson were also responsible for breaking the color barrier in the majors, and while there have been mistakes or controversy over the years (e.g. the Battle of Chavez Ravine), there have been numerous people and moments to be very proud of.

So, much in the same way a religious convert might be more fervent and motivated than someone who grew up in the church, I am once more living and dying with my (adopted) favorite team.

This was only a couple of years into the McCourt regime. If I only knew what was coming. Actually, that’s a good question: would I have changed allegiances? Would I have jumped on the 2002 Angels bandwagon? Would I have decided to skip baseball, and then with the 2004 NHL lockout have just given up again on watching sports?

Hard to say.

Thing is, it’s not just the Dodgers having issues right now. The other three major North American sports are flirting with labor disasters. Other sports I’ve followed, like pro cycling and soccer, are either tainted (literally!) or take an effort to follow outside mainstream media outlets. This is not an easy time to be a thinking, feeling sports fan. As the Great Recession continues, and world news is just bad news, what should be a welcome respite is just another depressing brouhaha.

A while back, a friend commented that she didn’t like sports and would rather be doing something than watching somebody else do them. There’s a certain truth to that, and indeed it’s usually better to be outdoors moving around and breathing than not doing those things while indoors in front of the television. Sometimes, though, you want to watch ostensibly high-skilled people perform to the best of their abilities.

So no, I don’t think I’ll give up my sports watching just yet. This is not because of some sort of “Dodgers for Life” uber-fandom, by the way. It’s just a practical thing. I have a hard enough time staying happy and productive in my real life — why should I subject myself to daily emotional beatings Just Because I’m a Fan?

Thanks, no. If that makes me not a “real fan,” then so be it. I’ve also never been a real fan of institutional flagellation either, and I’m okay with that.

This isn’t rats fleeing a sinking ship, it’s a paying passenger thinking that, since the ship appears to be sinking, it might be a good idea to double-check where the lifeboats are.

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So instead of queuing up for the whipping, I think I’ll try the Safe Distance approach. Keep an eye on things, keep up on the news from the periphery. Maybe even watch a game every now and again if there’s an intriguing pitching matchup.

But I have to say, I don’t think I’ll be watching the All-Star Game this year. If the Dodgers keep losing, I won’t have to worry about watching the playoffs, either. And the World Series? Unless there’s some compelling storyline, I can’t imagine even that mainstay of mine will be watched.

What about you? Are you wallowing in the muck, reading every story, commenting willy nilly across the Web? Are you giving up on the whole thing? Or are you taking a wait-and-see approach?

Who knew sports could be so damn complicated?

Home plate umpire hiding his face in shame. Photo: Jon SooHoo, Dodgers.

I caught only a smidgen of the double header today on TV — James Loney’s justified anger at a called strike 3 and subsequent ejection, and then a bit of Charlie Haeger pitching the next half-inning.

Malaise is apparent. The Dodgers are 8-12, tied for the worst record in baseball (apart from the 4-16 Orioles). Great pitching days seem unable to coincide with great hitting days, and vice versa. If they ever put them both together, watch out.

At this point last season, the Dodgers were 14-7, winding up 15-8 at the end of April, in the midst of their record 20-0 home start and blissfully unaware of the Manny news coming May 7th. Presently, we are losing players to injuries rather than suspensions, but the season is still young. ;)

8-12 is not a death sentence by any means, nor would 8-15 be if they lose out for April. It’s one of those things: rationally, I know everything will even out eventually, and this ugly month will be a distant memory; emotionally, the thumb gets twitchy on the remote.

One of the most polarizing Dodgers since Gary Sheffield has been traded to the Chicago White Sox for a couple of Players to Be Named Later (reportedly two minor league pitchers). The Juan Pierre Era in LA has come to a close.

The problem with Juan was pretty simple: despite constant early arrivals for practice, an inspirational work ethic, and a speedy set of legs, his offensive output and defensive liabilities made the amount of money the Dodgers were paying for him unfathomable.

With the arrival of Manny Ramirez, Juan was left out in the cold, and despite a stellar month and a half of substitution last season, he still wasn’t worth how much the Dodgers were paying.

You can be a totally nice guy, a team player, and a paragon of community involvement … and still be totally over-payed during a stretch of financial inflexibility.

So, what more can we say than thanks for the help and good luck?

Not much else.

Maybe Jason Repko will finally get another chance at being the Dodgers’ 4th outfielder. He has (along with a couple of other players) the skills to equal or surpass Juan Pierre’s contribution, at several million fewer dollars. Just keep him away from Rafael Furcal. ;)

Following up on the recent Steve Lopez post, “How to generate hits in these troubled times”, Lopez announced his tickets were going to be awarded to a local firefighter. Of course. The winning entry:

“Dear Manny,” wrote Richard MacPhee, “I am a firefighter for the USFS, I make $16 an hour. It’s hot, dirty, dangerous, with long hours. My body hurts all the time. It takes four years to make $170,000. My bonus, somebody telling me ‘Thanks for the hard work.’ You should try it some time.”

No offense to Mr. MacPhee, and thanks to him for his service, but I’ll bet Lopez makes quite a bit more than $16 an hour for doing less physically taxing labor than a member of the Dodger marketing department, much less Manny Ramirez, and whose greatest claim to fame is writing and selling somebody else’s story. As Jon Weisman pointed out,

Ramirez might well loaf from time to time, but overall his work ethic is pretty legendary. I’m not saying that to whitewash the mistakes he has made. But there is no shortage of stories about the effort he has put into the game. He did not float to the top of the baseball echelon. He’s no firefighter, but if Ramirez doesn’t work as hard as MacPhee, he still has worked plenty hard.

Barring some unlikely direct reply from Lopez, I’m letting this go for now — I’m looking forward to Game 1 tomorrow and would rather concentrate on the positives of this entire team and their amazing season. Something I wish Lopez had done himself.

1. Pick a topic that will cause controversy. Say, Manny Ramirez’s drug suspension.
2. Come up with a gimmick to bring in the links and hits. Say, “…I’m giving my World Series tickets this year to the person who writes my favorite 50-word sermon to Ramirez.”
3. Get Bill Plaschke to ghost-write your column for you.
4. Edit Bill’s first draft to increase the moral indignation and delete some of the carriage returns.
5. Publish column and watch the hits roll in.

I would expect more out of Steve Lopez. Unfortunately, he decided to take the easy way out. Loafing his way across the outfield, as it were.

Maybe it’s the vicodin talking, but this whole scheme strikes me as insincere. If you felt that bad about buying those tickets (and somehow calculating you were supporting Manny by doing so), how about donating those tainted tickets to be auctioned off for charity? You could even make it a steroid-awareness organization if you felt like making a real statement.

Think about how much of a bigger splash you could have made by doing things that way. You’d get all kinds of press online and in the real world. Plus you’d be making a difference about a cause that you apparently care a lot about. And getting even more of those precious hits and links.

Something to mull over in the next columnist meeting.