A complete-game shutout and the game-winning home run? Who does Clayton Kershaw think he is?

That was quite the Opening Day game. Other than Sandy Koufax throwing out the first pitch, it was a snooze-fest for 7-1/2 innings. Then WHAM! Kershaw pounds the first pitch he sees off reliever George Kontos over the center field wall. He was more surprised than anyone by the first round-tripper of his career.

I love it when the Dodgers beat the “World Champion” Giants (yes, there is a hint of disdain in the quotation marks). And other than stranding guys on base against San Francisco starter Matt Cain, the Dodgers played pretty well, wearing Cain down so that he left after 6 innings and exhibiting the same level of team chemistry we came to enjoy at the start of last season. I’m hoping it continues, but I’m taking it one game at a time.

I haven’t missed an Opening Day in at least 15 years, but today, I’ll be watching the Dodgers and the Giants on the old 46″, from the comfort of my couch. The stealth bombers — or whatever air show they put on today — will still fly over my house, and I’ll probably be able to see the parachutists (if there are any) from my front porch. But I’m disappointed by the “Money über alles” attitude that the team’s management has exhibited in their new pricing and ticket sales policies.

Of course I get that the Guggenheim Partners, et al, have put billions into the team, and now they’re more financially viable than those Damn Yankees. But making the Top Deck “season-tickets only” was a low blow to devout working-class fans like me.

All I wanted was what I have had the last few years, a mini-plan (25 games or so) in the Top Deck (about $8 a ticket). Of course, that sum does not include the roughly $20 per game I would spend on Dodger Dogs and beers. But still, it was an affordable way to support the team I have loved through thick and thin since my Dad first took me to Dodger Stadium in 1964.

What I was told by my Dodger representative was that “Top Deck is now season-tickets only.” No mini-plans. I was given the choice: Either buy season tickets where I want to sit or a mini-plan in a section I don’t like. So today starts my Dodger Boycott. I’ll watch on TV, but I won’t support a company that holds a gun to my head.

Money may make the world go around, but it also takes all the fun out of things. I have always loved the Dodgers because they were the underdogs, the people’s team, the lovable bums taking on the arrogant bullies. I would take one Luis Cruz over a team full of $100-million bats, because cheering on guys who might win against all odds is more fun than rooting for guys who get paid millions whether they win or not.