Archives for posts with tag: Los Angeles


I know how you feel, Yasiel.

You’re thinking, “If only we had more than one starting pitcher. If only we didn’t commit a ton of errors. If only I had gotten one clutch hit in the postseason.” (That one’s not just for you, but for so many of your teammates.)

If only, if only, if only.

Actually, the Dodgers did a lot better than they should have this year, given all the injuries and the misplaced investments in reclamation projects. They needed more than just Clayton Kershaw on the mound. They needed at least ONE other decent starter. (Sorry, Rich Hill. You had a nice game at the end there, but reliable you were not.)

It was a miracle they got as far as they did, to be honest with you. Dave Roberts did an amazing job managing a team with gumption and guts. Through unprecedented use of the disabled list, they got lucky a ton of times, and they beat the Giants, which is always satisfying.

But when you find yourself seriously wishing that Kershaw could start every single game, there isn’t much hope of going all the way.

And at the end, when Kershaw needed it most, the team didn’t pull together as it had so many times before. Everything fell apart. There were a few bad calls, but the final wound was self-inflicted. And the Cubs had an actual rotation and hitters who seemed to want it more.

I thought for a little while that this would be the season I got to use my World Series tickets.

Oh, well. Maybe next year. (If Andrew Friedman gets his head out of his Moneyball ass and gets some real aces to back up Kersh!)


Outfielder Andre Ethier signs balls for people at Camelback Ranch in 2012.

Outfielder Andre Ethier signs balls for fans at Camelback Ranch a few years ago.

The blue is on the green again, and it means that baseball is on its way.

Usually this time of year, Steve and I pack up the Saturn and head to the Grand Canyon State to see the Dodgers up close and personal at Camelback Ranch. Often, we get to meet up with my nephew Daniel and his girl, Jaycee. We all drink beer in our favorite seats in the shade and watch the Dodgers limber up for the new season.

The last time this actually happened was just after I got laid off from my job in 2012. The trip had already been planned, and just as I was hitting the road for Arizona, my chickenshit boss called to say my 22-year career with the Los Angeles Times was over. Although this put a damper on the outing to Glendale, we still ended up having a great time, visiting my dad and his wife, and playing pool until all hours of the night at a Holiday Inn off the I-10. My nephew Daniel owes me a lot of marbles!

Last year, I was mad at the Dodgers, so we didn’t go to Spring Training because we were boycotting them. Halfway through the season, however, they started playing real well and had a remarkable run that made me love them again.

Now, I’m a 2014 season ticket holder, but I’m also a documentary filmmaker in the midst of a rugged production schedule, so Camelback will have to wait ’til next year. But in the meantime, there’s TV. I got to watch my first Dodger baseball game of the season yesterday. Kershaw got pounded, but I know he often does in the first games of the year, so I’m not worried.

The madness is beginning again. Vin Scully, Dodger Dogs, the Manna from Havana, and King K on the mound. Thank heavens for baseball!

I went to Select-A-Seat on Friday, and I was happy to get Top Deck season tickets more or less where I wanted. I would like to thank David Kirkpatrick, the very nice Dodger official who helped me get two precious white tags in the coveted and sold-out Upper Top Deck.

dodgers tixHowever, the Dodgers always seem to take one step forward and two steps back in making us loyal Dodger fans happy. I got this email from the organization that put a dent in my excitement for the new season. I am not thrilled to find that the Dodgers are going paperless. As my friend, Emma Amaya, has written on her excellent blog, it’s exciting to receive that packet of all the tickets for all the home games of the coming season. It’s a shame that we will miss that from now on.

The digital age, so wonderful in many ways, is making life lose some of its luster.

In 1990, I was in the stands for Fernando Valenzuela’s no-hitter, and I saved my stub. Years later, he autographed my ticket stub from that game, the most exciting sporting event I have ever witnessed firsthand. If that happened now, would I have to have him sign my iPhone?

I know, I know. We have to save the trees, blah-blah-blah. I wouldn’t mind if they made the tickets out of recycled soda cups or hot dog wrappers. That would be fine. Nothing beats a real ticket stub.

About That Super Bowl
Peyton Manning is still the man.