Gee, I've been reading your name in the press a lot these past few months and that's a neat trick given your last name isn't Sheen or bin Laden. Who knew that the owner of the Los Angeles Dodgers could get worse publicity than those two knuckleheads? Okay, there's not exactly a team of Navy Seals headed up Stadium Way, but you get the idea. Things are looking bad for you right now and rightfully so. Hell, your sole experience in business prior to the Dodgers is running parking lots and you couldn't even get that right. Or so I am told as some comatose Giants fan blinks his disdain to us.
But, amidst all the fracas, you're telling us that you plan on fighting to keep your team in ways that you didn't fight for your wife. Of course, looking at that shrill bag of bones, I can't blame you. I'd leave her on the vine to rot, too. Apparently, limo drivers have a higher tolerance for pain. And, from what I am told by folks who've seen you frequenting American Airlines flights with your own little tootsie, you're also finding some make-up on your pillow cases these days, too. Some harpy who carries a dog around in a leather carry-all. I looked at prices for these dog carriers on-line and they are expensive. Now I'm wondering if that money came from you and maybe it could have paid for a lefthander out of the bullpen. Hmm. I'm just spitballin' here, Frank.
Oh, there I go again. Digressing and making you lose your focus on the fight at hand.
Seriously, your pledge to fight for the team reminds me a little bit about the last reel of "Rocky." The first one. The good one. The one where he battles with every fiber of his being and he still can only manage a draw. He's battered and bloodied for nothing. And, unless your new girlfriend is named Adrian, all comparisons will have to stop now. The bottom line is that you can claw and scrape and struggle all you want. You're not going to win. You have about as much money to your name as my mom did at the end of a month when Genung's Department Store was having a sale.
P.S.. She had none.
But, I suppose we should be impressed by your tenacity. Dodger fans at least should be heartened by your grit.
P.S.. We're not.
We want you to give up. It's over. You're done. Let's make some gravy for the leftovers.
The odd thing is that I used to give you some slack around here. You did make some improvements to the stadium, although I really wish your Fidelity Investment account hadn't run dry before you got to the Loge Level bathrooms. You introduced a little stability to the team. But, since then, there's been one misfire after another and every move you make is sort of like when they had Rhoda marry Joe. I didn't think any one individual could make as many bad decisions as you have in the past year and I'm now wondering if there's a future for you in Washington DC. Let's hope so. There sure isn't one left in Los Angeles.
Okay, I'm not kicking you out of the city altogether. Mayor Villaragosa still has the top slot on my list of "People Wo Need to Vacate Immediately." You can keep one of your four homes. I'm not even going to quibble about the neighborhood you choose to stay in, although I would prefer you keep away from the 90025 zip code. I'm thinking that the sale of one mansion alone might net us a left fielder who can hit .220. Or perhaps fill in one of the other gaping holes in the Dodger lineup. After all, this team right now is only about six players away from playoff contention.
I know you had big plans for this franchise. This was going to be the legacy you handed down to your kids, but I'm not sure how they would be in running a major league team either. Let me play them in a round robin tournament of Strat-O-Matic baseball and I'll get back to you.
Let's face it, you had absolutely no business being in this ownership gig and you have your former good friend, that slob of a commissioner Bud Selig, to thank for your predicament. Trust me, you're not alone in the blame for the shame. Selig needs to depart immediately to wherever dumbbells from Wisconsin wind up after years of eating cheese and processed meats.
But, facts are facts and I'll give you a C- for your final grade as Dodger owner. And the sad thing is that you really had to work hard to get even that. Hell, you're just not cut out for this baseball franchise thingy. Perhaps you can invest in some Fluff N' Folds back on Massachusetts Avenue. I hear that Harvard students do their laundry at least twice a month. And all you and your kids will have to do is make sure the coin slots work and that nothing is oversudsing onto the floor.
If you're wondering whether you'll be missed, don't worry about us Dodger fans. We're a resilient bunch. We'll still have Tommy with his feet up in the owner's box. And, of course, my vantage point at Chavez Ravine always gives me ample glimpses of fellow season ticket holders like Rob Reiner and Calista Flockhart. We're sticking around because we are loyal to the name on the jerseys.
And, last time I looked, that name wasn't "McCourt."
Yeah, we're ready to be baseball fans. And if you work fast, you can be back in Boston just in time for the first wisps of fall foliage.
Sincerely,
Loge Aisle 120, Row L, Seat 1
Dinner last night: Chinese chicken and vegetables.
3 comments:
Frank, why do fans in the $70 seats have to piss in a trough?
As a fan of the reigning World Champs, it would be easy to make fun of our biggest rival. But the current situation with the Dodgers is nothing to gloat about. It's sad.
Looking at what this guy and his wife have done to a legendary team must make Charlie Ebbetts, Larry MacPhail, Branch Rickey and Walter O'Malley turn over in their graves. MLB has let these people get away with murder. The best thing that could happen is for him to default on the payroll and let MLB take over and sell the team to someone who will run it as a baseball franchise, not as a personal piggy bank.
A C? I'd give him an F.
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