My 2011 Dodger Talk Experience

Here's your unflappable blog writer along with KABC's Dodger Talk hosts and uber-nice guys, Joe Block and Josh Suchon.  They were also conveniently my hosts for another evening that will go down in the highlight reel of my life.

Steady (or, unsteady, as would be more likely) readers of this daily flotsam may now be wondering.

Hey, Len, didn't you do this last year?  Heck, I remember reading some other long tome about this.

Well, yes, I did.  And the blog entry was pretty lengthy.  If you never read it, go back to the Len Speaks edition of Friday, August 13, 2010 and catch yourself up.

Somehow, I wound up back in the Dodger Stadium press box for a 2011 game and this year's experience, like "The Godfather, Part 2," topped the original.

And, frankly, I wasn't even looking to do it again.  Yes, gang, here comes some requisite but much needed Hollywood backstory.

A truly positive (and perhaps only) legacy that the Frank McCourt family will leave the Los Angeles Dodgers is the development of the Think Cure foundation, donated to raising money and awareness for cancer research.  It's the Southern California version of the Jimmy Fund, which was a long time charity of the Boston Red Sox and originally shepherded by Ted Williams.

Think Cure's annual fundraising event includes a telethon and an on-line auction for memorablia and stadium "experiences."  Now, in any given year, I'm going to donate a certain chunk to a cancer cause, remembering, of course, a parent and several other relatives who bravely tried to battle the disease.   Why not give some dough and get something tangible in return?

Several years back, I dipped my toe into the philantrophic waters, but stayed squarely in the shallow end.  I got myself a baseball autographed by Clayton Kershaw. 

Last year, I shot a little higher.  One of the "experiences" offered was the opportunity to be a "co-host" of KABC's Dodger Talk, the post-game show that follows all Dodger games.  For those not familiar, it's perhaps the most balanced and intelligent of all Major League Baseball team post-game shows.  Years of listening to "Vinnie from Bayonne" calling in to bash Mets manager Davey Johnson give me the credence to make that declaration.

Okay, you've had several paragraphs to reconnect with last year's story, but, if you haven't, I'll provide a quick thumbnail summary.  I watched the game in the press box.  I had an introduction to the legendary Vin Scully among others.  And I got to have a bit of a stuttery moment on the air after the game.  Still, it was all superlative, thanks mainly due to Josh Suchon and then-host Ken Levine, whose terrific blog is now linked to mine and vice versa.

So, the 2011 Think Cure auction rolls around and I survey the list of goodies.  Hmm, the Dodger Talk experience is up for grabs again.  Now, as much as I enjoyed it last year, I hesitate to bid on it.  How much better could it be?  And, what would happen if I show up again and I get a reaction from one of the hosts that clearly translates to "oh, hi, it's you again?"

I opt to zone in on a piece of art.  Why?  No clue.  But, it's an artist's interpretation of the Brooklyn Dodger celebration following Game 7 of the 1955 World Series.  Surely, I can hang it someplace.  And, frankly, I'm not a patron of the arts.  I couldn't tell the esthetic difference between the Mona Lisa and two comic strip panels from last Sunday's Blondie.

So, I dive into bidding for this painting and soon discover myself in an on-line war with some kook from Pacoima.  As the price keeps going up and up, I wonder just how commited I am to funding this artist's next five gallery showings.   A donation to cancer research is one thing.  The last third of my life being spent on a diet of ramen noodles is another.  And, besides, I don't have the wall space.

I sincerely hope the kook from Pacoima is enjoying his purchase.

At the eleventh hour, I shifted focus and surveyed what was still within the economic realm of the last stimulus package.  Hmmm.  The Dodger Talk experience was still up and. with decimal places, in a price stratosphere closer to Mercury than Pluto.   This, of course, was long before my 401K headed down a non-Chavez Ravine.  But, like Jerry Lewis used to do on his telethon, I'm still thinking about the sick kids.  I placed a bid on Dodger Talk.

And wound up in another bidding war.  Who the hell is this person?  The Kook from Pacoima had been replaced by a Pest from Pasadena.  The price escalated and I amazingly continued to climb right along with it.  I started to wonder if this is how Bernie Madoff got started.

I hung in there long enough for the deadline clock to strike high noon and/or Carpal-Tunnel pain started to bother the Pest from Pasadena.  I would be heading back to Dodger Talk. 

My winning contribution cleared my credit card in record time with American Airlines Advantage miles to boot, thank you very much.  But, for several weeks following the auction, there was radio silence regarding plans for my 2011 Dodger Talk experience.   In 2010, I had heard from co-host Josh Suchon pretty quickly.  Not so this year.  I still had his contact info and I thought about forging ahead and e-mailing/calling him myself.  But, what if he was clearly in "oh, hi, it's you again" mode?  I decided to contact the charity directly.

A few days later, I heard back from Ingrid at Think Cure with many apologies.  The original contact at the charity had left the foundation and my experience was one of those which had fallen through the cracks.  In several phone calls and e-mails, she apologized so much that I began to think she had actually seen how low my 401K had subsequently dropped.  I kept reassuring her that I was not worried, but she kept apologizing.  Gee, I didn't give that much.  Or did I?  Nevertheless, Ingrid was intent on following this through and wouldn't rest until my Dodger Talk experience was scheduled.

I did hear from KABC and my date was confirmed.  I touched base with Josh and I didn't discern an audible grimace on the other end of the phone.  I was good to go.  But, Ingrid still didn't feel right.  More notes thanking me for my kindness and patience.  One more e-mail and I expected an invitation to her house for Thanksgiving.

Then, Ingrid e-mails me...

"Is this your current home address?"

Hmmm.  Maybe she's actually coming over to my house to cook Thanksgiving dinner.

Another e-mail...

"Who's your favorite Dodger?"

I see where this is going.  I tell her Clayton Kershaw.  And add that I have an autographed ball and wear "his" jersey when he pitches.  But, I offer up Matt Kemp and Chad Billingsley as worthy replacements.

Another e-mail...

"We're sending something out today."

Two days later, an envelope arrives.  It's not bulky, so it's obviously not a baseball.  I tear it open like it's Christmas morning to find...

A garment bag adorned by the Major League Baseball logo.

Huh?  Is this their sneaky way of telling me I have tickets to the World Series?

In a rare moment of genius, I zip open the garment bag.  And find a jersey autographed by Chad Billingsley.

I thought about the painting I was bidding on.  And backing out because I had no place to hang it.

Once framed, this Chad Billingsley jersey will easily find a home in my home.  I may have to move to a place with more walls, but that will be a problem for another day.  A terrific bonus from the folks at Think Cure.

When it came to my actual Dodger Talk appearance, I didn't need any bonuses.  At the door to the Vin Scully Press Box, I was met warmly by Josh Suchon.  When introduced to new Dodger Talk co-host Joe Block, he noted that I would be missing last year's co-host/famed comedy writer Ken Levine, who has moved on to doing radio play-by-play for the Seattle Mariners.  Joe was almost apologetic.

"The only thing I know about Cheers is that Coach died."

No worries.  If needed, I can easily find Ken on Facebook.  

Josh attempted to introduce me to the other Dodger broadcasters, but all of them were in their private dining room enjoying a pre-game repast.  Having a moment last year with Vin Scully, I had already exhausted our connection of having WFUV and Fordham University in our mutual pasts.  I had struggled to think about what I would say to him this year.  Oddly, I was happy to be spared the handshake and the small talk in 2011.

While most of my experience was exactly the same as it had been in 2010, save for Joe replacing Ken, it felt almost mystically different.  Chowing down on a turkey burger (same as last year) in the press box cafeteria known affectionately as Dave's Diner, I had the weird sensation that I belonged.  

Heck, a career like this is what I longed for when I was in college, but opportunities and largely talent moved me into other arenas.  But, thanks to the ultra-congenial atmosphere anchored by Josh and Joe, I felt simply like another reporter in the room.  And that was a very good feeling indeed.

The game was a long one as Padre starting pitcher Tim Stauffer morphed into Steve Blass and walked seven, count 'em, seven batters in the second inning.  Then, allegedly-injured Dodger Andre Ethier recovered from what might have been overnight arthroscopic surgery on his knee and hit a grand slam.  The final score wound up Dodger 8, Padres 5.  For me, the game lasted long enough and really not long enough.  I had a thoroughly fabulous time with my two hosts as we simply, to quote Joe Block, "talked some ball."

Once again, as we chatted all night, I got to watch Josh and Joe do their homework for the post-game show.  Early on, they began to frame the topics they would put out there for the callers.  I marveled at how buttoned up they are.  Meanwhile, I look around at some of the other members of the press corps.  One is reading the "Beverly Hills Courier," as if such a newspaper actually has a sports department.  Most are in and out of their Facebook pages. 

Hey, wait, I do a lot of the same stuff at work, too.

Last year, my cameo appearance on the Dodger Talk post-game show was really a "Where's Waldo" moment.  And, unfortunately, I stumbled, mumbled, and fumbled through some jibberish about how disappointing the 2010 Dodger season had been.  Trust me.  Airchecks can not be found in the broadcasting wing of the Cooperstown Baseball Hall of Fame.

This year, however,  I prepped as I listened to Josh and Joe do their own prep.  I thought about the three topics they were focusing on and began to formulate my own responses to them.  Just in case they asked.

Well, they did.  And, according to friends around the country who listened to the show via podcast which can be found here (http://kabc.com/Article.asp?id=2275220&spid=33844), I was blended so seamlessly into the show that I came off like a regular feature of the show.  Said friends also commented on how terrificly balanced and professional a post-game call-in show could be for a baseball franchise.  I wonder out loud just how bad Marlins Talk is.

It, and I, sounded good for a reason.  Josh and Joe do their homework and show their passion.  And it winds up on the air.

And this explains why I'm already looking forward to another on-line auction, another winning donation (Fidelity Investments willing), and another good time at Dodger Talk.  Sure, one of these years, I'm expecting to show up and find that Josh Suchon and Joe Block have been gobbled by other baseball teams and are now the radio or TV play-by-play guys working in the visitor's booth. 

Well, in that case, I am available.  And slightly experienced.

Or maybe I'll just bid on some artwork.  Contingent, of course, on Ingrid from Think Cure finding me a new condo with more square footage.

Whatever the case, there is no better cause than cancer research.  Those children are the ultimate winners to any on-line auction.

Dinner last night:  Grilled sausage, macaroni salad, and cole slaw.