Archives for posts with tag: Kenley Jansen

win-for-vin

Would you believe a home run? The Dodgers have clinched the division and will celebrate on schedule.

Vin Scully, like many of us in the stadium yesterday, had been watching the other game (Giants 3, Padres 4 in the top of the 9th) as Dodger second-baseman Charlie Culberson came to the plate. There were two outs, and his team was tied with the Rockies 3-3 in the bottom of the 10th. We were bracing to go to the 11th and to clinch the National League West championship via San Francisco’s demise.

“Culberson doesn’t have any homers,” my husband lamented. “It’s time for him to get his first.”

BAM! Vin Scully got to report one last miracle in Chavez Ravine before hanging up his microphone and heading home.

For me, it was better than Kirk Gibson’s home run simply because I was there to see it with my own eyes.

I’ve witnessed many amazing moments at Dodger Stadium — Fernando’s no-hitter, Manny’s bobblehead slam, Steve Finley’s clinching homer — but they came mostly from players who were well-known to be capable of such big contributions.

No one expected anything like this from Culberson, who practically danced from third to his waiting teammates at home plate. It was a beautiful, joyful and totally surprising turn of events.

When Kershaw was injured, a postseason berth looked like a lost cause. Luckily, this scrappy team didn’t see what so many of the rest of us saw.

To a man, they came through when needed. The unlikeliest of heroes emerged game after game. With the steady leadership of manager Dave Roberts, the veterans — Adrián González, Chase Utley, Howie Kendrick and A.J. Ellis (now gone but never forgotten) — and the rest of a roster made from spare parts came together to make history.

This is a team in the truest sense of the word.

I resent that the owners of my neighborhood team have made me feel like a sucker for supporting them.

blue dollar signCharging little kids and other fans $150 for an autograph of a mediocre player on a team that hasn’t won a championship in almost three decades, $tan Ka$ten and the others should be ashamed of themselves.

I’m undeniably appalled at the unbridled venality of the Dodgers’ management strategies. They are nothing new — skyrocketing price increases, a skimpy LA hoodie with a price tag of $104, no TV coverage for most of L.A., a coaching staff almost entirely made up of rookies and a pitching staff with only one good arm. They actually had me considering giving up my lifelong love of Dodgers baseball this year. I will not let them take that away from me too.

I realize that my last post was all sunshine-and-roses, looking forward to a brighter future, blah, blah, blah, but then I went to Select-a-Seat and heard all about how Fan Fest was “free” for all, but that was just to walk in the door. If you actually wanted to partake in ANY activity there, you had to be prepared to shell out hundreds more dollars for the privilege of being a fan of the team that was once the working man’s Brooklyn Bums. It’s shameful.

vin and michaelA New Address
On the bright side, Elysian Park Avenue from Sunset to Stadium Way will soon be called Vin Scully Avenue. He deserves it. We all love you, Vinnie, and that’s something those bastards in charge can never change.

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Dave Roberts looks very happy to be back in Dodger blue.

Out with the old and in with the older. The brain trust of Friedman & Zaidi have eliminated our manager, brought back a long-ago Dodger to take his place, and let slip away one of only two reasons to go to the stadium last year: the ace with no filter, Mr. Zack Greinke. (I have to admit I had really warmed to his odd, uncensored honesty.)

I always liked Dave Roberts, the new manager, when he played center field for us. I’m very willing to give him a chance to prove himself as the leader of a ragtag group of mediocre arms (save Clayton Kershaw, of course), a patchwork infield, and an outfield plagued with a case of the Puig.

When April rolls around, I’ll be in my Top Deck aerie taking score and whistling like a mad woman whether the team goes all the way or fizzles like a wet firecracker, the latter scenario seeming more likely this year. (Once again, it looks like DirecTV won’t be hosting the games, so most of L.A. will be blissfully unaware anyway.)

As a Geico ad might say, “If you’re Pamela Wilson, you cheer for the Dodgers. It’s what you do.”