Maybe this is going to be too much to digest, but I wanted to put together a look back at the Dodgers in 2004 through this website. Would have been nice to publish as a book - but that's what you get for being spur of the moment. My only advice, I guess, is take your time.

Not to completely spoil the moment, nor to be completely inappropriate considering the tsunami disaster in Asia, but if you've enjoyed Dodger Thoughts throughout the year, perhaps you might consider a donation via the "Support Dodger Thoughts" link on the sidebar. I say this even though it's not tax-deductible, and it's not more important than a real charity, and it's not the reason I do this, and I'm hoping very much not to offend anyone nor make them feel guilty. It's not a requirement, just a thought.

All the best for a happy and safe New Year. And do support the disaster relief funds if you can.

- Jon

Dodger Thoughts Year in Review: January-June

Dodger Thoughts Year in Review: July-December

January 2004

January 12: Pawned

I can't believe what I'm reading.

With major league owners scheduled to vote this month on whether to approve the bid of would-be Dodger buyer Frank McCourt, a source said Sunday that McCourt asked Commissioner Bud Selig whether some owners might vote against him if he spent freely to acquire Guerrero yet presented a financing package heavily dependent on loans. Selig offered no assurances, the source said, and McCourt sent word to General Manager Dan Evans to cease talks with Guerrero.
- Bill Shaikin, Los Angeles Times

Is this for real?

The Dodgers are saving Brown's salary in 2004 and 2005. When the Brown savings stop at the end of 2005, that's when the Dodgers knock $30 million in Shawn Green and Darren Dreifort off the books.

And yet we're supposed to believe or accept that, amid a market correction for player salaries, Vladimir Guerrero's is the one that would drive McCourt out of business?

Did anyone actually think this through? It makes no sense.

If McCourt can't afford to sign Guerrero with the Dodger payroll already on the Atkins diet, he can't afford to buy the Dodgers. Period.

This should unequivocally mark the end of McCourt's ownership bid.

If baseball's owners approve McCourt's purchase of the team, it can only be because they want the Dodgers to be less competitive. They want a weaker team in the nation's second-largest market.

Just out of curiosity, if the Dodgers had not completed the Kevin Brown trade, would that have kept McCourt's bid from being approved? Because with Brown's salary on the books, how on earth would poor Mr. McCourt have afforded his lown payments?

Forget about comparisons to Angels owner Arte Moreno. Frank McCourt is not in the baseball business. He's not going to let a little thing like baseball get in the way of his owning a baseball team and the land it sits on.

Dodger fans are game for any challenge, but having phony challenges thrust upon them for no defensible reason is shameful.

News Corp. is unloading the Dodgers at the local pawn shop, and Bud Selig is all too happy to oblige. We're all being sold down the river.

January 26: Prove Us Wrong, Frank, Prove Us Wrong

The hostile reaction to McCourt over the past two months has debunked the myth that Dodger fans are stupid and apathetic. They haven't bought in to the myth that no owner can be worse than News Corp. And after years under that ownership, they will surely recognize when the future of the team is being trashed.

The good news, of course, is that because of McCourt's cash-poor situation, he may have no choice but to hang onto the prospects - or if he's going to approve a trade, make it a trade for a productive, long-term investment.

We can only hope. We can only hope.

When that door opens and you walk in, Frank, you get a clean slate. Everyone in Los Angeles is perfectly willing to eat their words, to apologize, to say that their fears about you were misguided.

Be smart. Be good. That's the whole ballgame.

January 29: His Team Now

Frank McCourt makes me feel powerless.

He could be the next great disaster for the Dodgers. Or, he could be a hidden treasure of, well, adequacy.

But how disturbing is it that after Thursday's press conference to discuss his purchase of the team, there is nothing that actually inspires confidence? Every potential positive statement made by or about McCourt had to be qualified.

Whatever the future holds, good or bad ... today, the Dodgers really seem to belong to someone else. Maybe this feeling will go away, but they don't feel like the city's team right now. They don't feel like our team.

Literally, they never were ours, but figuratively, they were. Not today.

Consider this: throughout the entire day, I didn't find a note of celebration that the News Corp. (majority) ownership of the Dodgers was over. Can you believe this? A few months ago, the city of Los Angeles would have held a bonfire of revelry at Fox's departure. Today, there's just uncertainty.

January 30: What If the Dodgers Win in 2004?

What should Frank McCourt, the Dodger organization, you or I be willing to sacrifice for a World Series title this season?

Should we be willing to go the Florida Marlins route of shocking titles sandwiching last-place finishes?

The elation that comes with winning a title is huge, and there isn't much that can erase the fondness of those memories.

But most of the time, we are forced to live in the present. And that means the memories only go so far.

The best-case scenario is that McCourt puts together a staff that engineers the moves that make the Dodgers a champion, and in so doing so galvanizes the city of Los Angeles that baseball revenue starts pouring into Chavez Ravine. Short-term success feeds long-term success.

If that happens, McCourt is a hero.

But if in going for broke, McCourt puts himself at risk of going broke, and plunders what's good about the organization to make ends meet, I fear that even a 2004 title might end up feeling sour as soon as 2005.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that not all World Series championships are created equally. Not all of them have the same long-term joy. I'm expressing a particularly greedy view that we should want the Dodgers to win a title, but not have to shoot ourselves in the foot to do so.

February 2004

February 3: Let Vin Make the Call

Over the years, we've probably heard Vin Scully talk about everything there is to talk about - except one thing.

The next Vin Scully.

In my mind, of course, there will be no replacing Vin. I'm well aware Vin has his detractors - people who tire of flubs he makes at the microphone, or who aren't drawn to his style. I accept that some feel that way.

For me, there has never been, nor will there every be, anyone who gives me more joy in listening to the broadcast of a sporting event than Vin.

Vin has been on my mind this weekend, ever since the announcement that all 162 Dodger games will be televised this season. Because there is no indication that Vinny's travel schedule will expand, this year we'll receive even more of our ongoing preview of life without Vinny.

I think we've all wondered about Vin's successor from time to time. I've been in the Al Michaels camp for years; I also still enjoy Jon Miller and Bob Costas. Not everyone in the Dodger audience would agree, but it doesn't really matter; none of those three seem likely to come.

Anyway, this weekend - for the first time, oddly - I started wondering whom Vin would recommend as his successor.

It's a question, because of his nature, that Vin would probably never answer on the record, but I still wonder.

I wonder if, among his unparalleled talents, if Vin has the ability to spot greatness in other broadcasters.

It seems like he would, wouldn't he? Think of Roger Angell, the consummate (albeit East Coast myopicized) baseball writer for The New Yorker. Fiction Editor at the magazine for years, Angell is certainly capable of spotting writing talent. But could he find the Next to be the most literary of baseball scribes?

I don't know (although I have a hunch about Ben McGrath over there). My gut tells me that one artist can pick out another artist. But I don't know. Is it possible that Vinny might not know exactly what makes him so great, or perhaps perceive greatness in another that isn't really there? That he would do as poorly picking a replacement for Dodger broadcasts as Magic Johnson coaching basketball?

Is it possible that one foggy day, way back when, Vin recommended Rick Monday? Seems like heresy to think it.

Certainly, I don't think any of Vin's remarkable poetry has been passed to Monday, tenured as a Dodger broadcaster without any spark of brilliance because he twice rescued flags, one American, one a 1981 National League pennant. Nor do I even think Vin has profoundly molded Ross Porter, likeable in his literal, earnest, Barney Fife kind of way, any more than Andy Taylor trained Barney to be his equal in Mayberry.

When the season finally comes that Vin doesn't ask us to "pull up a chair," I don't expect a new No. 1 from outside the organization. More likely, Porter would become the No. 1 announcer, Monday the No. 2, and the Dodgers would search for a new No. 3. Or, perhaps Porter and Monday would take over the TV coverage, and the Dodgers would hire a 3-4 duo for radio.

Here's what I think. Assuming Vin's fingerprints are not on Monday's hire, the Dodgers should let Vin choose his own successor. Have Vin listen to the tapes, have Vin meet the men or women applying for the job.

It's simple, really. Let Monet pass on his own brush.

Who knows, maybe Vin will spot some 22-year-old, fresh out of college, with crackling talent and an ethereal magic with words, who will bring true joy to Dodger fans for another 50 years.

February 6: More Memories I Need to Share

Three voices I can hear in my head, clear as day.

My late paternal grandfather, saying, "How are ya, champ?"

My late maternal grandfather, teaching us French by saying, "Parlez-vous francais? Chevrolet cou-pay?"

Vin Scully, doing a Farmer John commercial voiceover and saying, "Braunschweiger."

February 7: Only If He Hits Righties Does He Hit Lefties

Ever have one of those moments where one of your lifelong assumptions is turned on its ear?

That happened to me Friday, at least on a baseball level.

I'm writing this still somewhat in a state of disbelief, but I wanted to share with you the discussion that's going on.

The inspiration for the discussion is ex-Dodger Eric Karros, whom Oakland signed to be a part-time first baseman. Rob Neyer wrote about the deal on ESPN.com. The justification for the signing is that, although Karros' numbers against right-handed batters are poor, he hits lefties very well, and is ideal for a platoon.

The numbers are there.

Karros vs. LHP, 2001-2003: 207 AB, .904 OPS
Karros vs. RHP, 2001-2003: 991 AB, .672 OPS

So, here's the revolution.

The best way to look at how a right-handed major league batter will perform against left-handed pitchers ... is to make sure you give heavy emphasis to his stats against right-handed pitchers. ...

February 13: Sucker's Walk

... There are three threads spooling with the Dodger general manager position. There is the incumbent, Evans, who is not perfect, but who in less than three years on the job has removed much of the organizational dead weight and made the idea of long-term success possible.

There is his boss, McCourt, whose sincerity in telling us that Evans is a candidate to keep his job is dubious. (I guess McCourt would argue that he is no different than Democracy itself, which this year will tell George W. Bush whether he can keep his job.)

And there are the candidates. I honestly don't know that much about DePodesta. I've read Moneyball and I've read his speech and I've paid attention to the success of the Oakland A's and what other people say about him, but I'm not going to be the one to argue that I possess a wealth of knowledge about DePodesta. I know he has a bright mind and a sabermetric mind - which to be clear, doesn't prize one stat or another over all else, but factual knowledge over all else.

I don't know if DePodesta is the answer. But yes, based on the information I have, I'd rather that the clumsy McCourt take a chance on him than any other outside candidate.

If I'm wrong about DePodesta, I'll do the Sucker's Walk - with McCourt leading the way.

February 22: Jacksonmania Can Wait

At least they haven't given him a nickname yet, like Dr. K.

The repeated statements by Dodger manager Jim Tracy that the 20-year-old Edwin Jackson will be a point in the starting rotation pinwheel raise questions, despite Jackson's memorable debut victory over Randy Johnson and his 2.45 ERA (163 ERA+) in four rookie appearances last season.

Jackson had a 3.70 ERA in AA ball last season, a mark I'm fairly certain that even Andy Ashby could have achieved. Even with all the promise and hallowed intangibles in the world, Jackson doesn't necessarily deserve an offseason upgrade from coach to first class.

March 2004

March 19: Chances Are

The Detroit Tigers deserve every chance to win the 2004 World Series. And they will get every chance to win it.

That does not mean that someone like me, someone like you or someone with the media cannot comment on how unlikely it is that the Tigers will win. It does not mean that people can't evaluate whether or not the Tigers are making the decisions that will promote their chances of winning.

When I hear people respond to criticism of the Frank McCourt ownership of the Dodgers, either here or in the press, by saying, "Give McCourt a chance," my skin crawls.

McCourt has his chance. He has it - right now. And he's going to continue to have it for quite a while. It's not for anyone in the media to give or take away.

He is not a victim, of a smear campaign or anything else.

"Give McCourt a chance." It's as if the people saying it are John Lennon, the press is Richard Nixon and McCourt is peace. It's absurd.

McCourt has his chance right now.

The idea that the media can't criticize his performance, can't evaluate his decisions, just as if we were evaluating the ongoing efforts of any entitity to succeed, does not make sense.

Edwin Jackson will have a chance to win 25 games this year with an ERA of 1.01 for the Dodgers. Based on what I've seen, I don't think Edwin Jackson will do so. Does that mean I am not giving him a chance?

Readers are welcome to disagree with evaluations, here, in the Times or wherever. Recently, I have disagreed with sportswriters at the Times when they criticized Odalis Perez, when they criticized Dan Evans, when they criticized the hiring of Paul DePodesta. I felt their reasoning was flawed.

I did not conclude that those writers have an agenda against these people - that they want them to fail - because there is no evidence of such an agenda.

In fact, if there were to be any agenda at all, the much more likely scenario is merely that the Times columnists have opinions about what is in the best interests of the Dodgers. A winning team sells more newspapers than a losing team. A winning team is more fun to cover.

Now obviously, there is a difference between me and the Times. Not too many people in this town of millions pay attention to what I say. On the other hand, if the city's largest newspaper opines that something is bad for the Dodgers, it could have influence. It might not, but it might. If Ross Newhan had been pro-Dan Evans, Dan Evans might still have his job today.

That does not mean that Dan Evans did not have his chance to succeed. My criticism of the Times was that Dan Evans was succeeding - they just couldn't see it.

Just because someone disagrees with you, just because someone might not appear to use sensible logic, does not imply evil intentions. I'm not naive enough to think that no one out in the vast media landscape has a bias, but it's a serious accusation, and you had better have a lot of evidence to prove it.

Until you can prove a nefarious agenda exists, all bad logic is is bad logic.

Why do I bring this up today, after a very welcome week of steering clear of any reaction to comments and actions by Frank and Jamie McCourt?

Because I can't help but observe that $4 or $5 has already been quite enough to pay for the smallest bottle of water you can purchase at Dodger Stadium.

I read the news that Dodger ownership is planning to raise the price of concessions and parking, I evaluate it, and I conclude that this will not promote building a better Dodger franchise.

It will increase the McCourt revenue, but it will alienate a fan base that should be courted. Further, I don't believe that money will go toward improving the product on the field. Rather, I think it will go toward simply keeping McCourt afloat - which we shouldn't have to be worrying about.

Believe me, you are welcome to tell me why I'm wrong. And McCourt will have more than enough chances to prove me wrong.

But if people continue to respond to criticism of McCourt by saying that he's not being given a chance, my skin is gonna crawl right out the door.

March 23: Spit Take: James Loney, 2004 NL Rookie of the Year

Predictions aren't worth spit, and I like to get more out of life than a loogie.

But I just have this hunch ...

... that the Dodgers won't cobble together a major-league first baseman
... that Frank McCourt won't allow a trade for a productive slugger
... that James Loney is going to open up 2004 in Jacksonville on a tear
... that people will agonize over bringing him up at too young an age
... that Edwin Jackson's maturity will allow the Dodgers to turn to Loney in the absence of any other options
... that Loney will be called up in mid-June
... that Loney will be the second-best hitter on the Dodgers by the end of July
... that he will enter the NL Rookie of the Year race in the stretch run
... that he will shine for August and September, while Jackson tires from a long season
... and that James Loney will win the NL Rookie of the Year award by a nose over Kazuo Matsui.

We haven't been expecting Loney until 2005, or late 2004. The odds are against anything more than a cup of coffee in September.

March 25: The Tristram Shandy Nightmare

I was about a 3.5 student in my four years in college. That number would have been higher if not for 18th-Century Victorian Literature.

That class was to me what the 2004 season is about to be to the Dodgers.

You understand this intuitively, but we might as state it for the record. The Dodgers are living the nightmare: arriving woefully unprepared for their final exam, desperate for a burst of divine energy. Or at least an easy test.

I lived that nightmare once, just a few months after the Dodgers' last World Series title.

I declared English as my major early in my sophomore year, but by the end I switched to American Studies. I switched because although there were some classes in English that I completely adored, there were others that offered me no love. The trigger was a class on literary theory, taught by Shirley Brice Heath, that at the time held less interest to me than 10 weeks of traffic school.

American Studies was a flexible major that fit in basically any subject at the university as long as America was somewhere in the title. "Sport in American Life" was one of them, and in fact, I never took a class I didn't like in that major. But afraid of becoming too culturally ethnocentric, I would continue to venture outside the box for electives. Which led me, in my senior year, to 18th-Century Victorian Literature.

More than 15 years have passed, but my memories of the class are these: 1) one boring 800-page book after another like Tom Jones, of which I would read about 100 pages before giving up, 2) my least favorite book of all time, Tristram Shandy, which I did manage to finish because it was so mesmerizingly dreadful, and 3) resignation and defeat as I would do the Stanford Daily crossword puzzle in class while my well-intentioned professor lectured, on those days that I could force myself to attend.

To translate this into relevancy, my 18th-Century Victorian Literature classroom experience was as satisfying as the 2003-04 Dodger offseason.

Finals approached, and I had holes in my knowledge of 18th-Century Victorian Literature as gaping as the Dodgers' offensive holes at first base, second base, shortstop, and if Adrian Beltre doesn't heal on schedule, third base. I went over my meager notes and borrowed those of classmates, but little penetrated. My brain wanted Vladimir Guerrero, but all it got was Olmedo Saenz.

I sat down in a classroom on a March day not unlike today, and hoped for the best.

The exam had two parts. Part 1, worth 50 percent of the test, was a list of short excerpts from the texts we (were supposed to have) read, excerpts you had to indentify and contextualize. I only recognized half of them, and gave answers of dubious worth to the rest.

That meant I had about a 15 or 20 out of 50 going into the second half of the exam, the essay. If I scored perfectly on that section, I might reach a 70, or about a C-.

I saw the essay question, and I knew that wasn't going to happen.

At that time, Stanford did not give students Fs. Rather, if you didn't earn at least a C- in the class, you simply got no credit - no units. It was as if you didn't take the class at all. Many people, with grade-point averages and grad-school applications on their minds, actually preferred getting no credit than getting a C- or a C+ or whatever, and would drop a class during the final exam by not turning it in (or by turning in a piece of paper that said, "I drop this class.").

Much of my time writing my essay that day was spent deliberating whether I should turn in my test or not. I had about a B in the class going into the final, so even if I flunked the exam, I probably had a good-enough flunk - an F+, so to speak - to earn a C- for the quarter. Did I want that on my otherwise A-/B+ record?

The Dodgers don't have this choice. The Dodgers have a 2004 season ahead of them, and as much as some might like them to, they can't just drop the class. They're going to have to live with their failure to prepare, a failure born partly of nature and partly of nurture, and just hope for the best. Hope that the season isn't as hard as it looks, hope that it somehow caters to their strengths, hope that they aren't as unprepared as they seem, hope that they can suddenly grow smarter in the final moments.

And ultimately, learn from it all and do better next time.

I didn't drop 18th-Century Victorian Literature. I turned in my exam. Even in the doomed reality of the moment, I wanted the record to show that I took the class. I didn't go through all that tedium and low self-esteem to end up with no testimony of it. Better to finish poorly than not finish at all.

D on the final, C+ in the class.

Postscript: Three years later, I found myself in a graduate school program - in English. And I found myself taking literary theory. And I found on the syllabus a book written by a most vaguely familiar name. Shirley Brice Heath. I looked at her bio, and she had taught at Stanford. And then it clicked. Ah, we meet again, my enemy.

Actually, I don't want to give the wrong impression: She was a very nice person and certainly worlds smarter than me. But it was amusing, as her book was lionized in grad school class discussions, for me to chirp up and say, "Shirley Brice Heath was the reason I abandoned English as a major."

No regrets. You don't have to follow the conventional path to be happy. But your alternative had better be good. I do hope that Paul DePodesta finds the path away from the A's rewarding, and that he doesn't regret switching majors.

March 25: Bert Convy: Actor, Singer, Host, Baseball Man

If you've never heard of Bert Convy, first of all, you're too damn young. Second of all, you missed out an a unique personage in American entertainment history.

Allow me to quote from a a 1976 article appearing on this Bert Convy tribute website:

Just about everyone knows Bert Convy. Afternoons the ladies drool over his great, lean looks when he hosts Tattletales, and evenings their spouses envy his near physical perfection, his easy singing style and casual wit during frequent Tonight Show appearances. Recently, nightclubs have been added to his repertoire so the entire family can marvel at Bert's versatility.

From film roles in such pictures as The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders (also featuring Bucky Dent!) to his own prime-time series, The Late Summer Early Fall Bert Convy Show, Convy was everything, I suppose, that Ryan Seacrest aspires to be - and more.

Only today did I learn about Bert Convy, Baseball Player ...

April 2004

April 12: 86 for 89

Adrian Beltre has looked marvelous, by reports from fans on this site and the media, and by my own observations watching Sunday's game on television.

He is taking outside pitches to center and right field instead of trying to pull the ball - and jumping all over pitches in his wheelhouse, the inside half of the plate.

He has walked only once all season. But amazingly, even for this young season, he has yet to strike out. ...

I'm not surprised that Beltre has gone to two strikes in 40 percent of his plate appearances (10 out of 25) - but it's pretty shocking that he's made contact in 100 percent of those situations. That's not the image of the Beltre we know, diving at and missing low-and-away pitches, Raul Mondesi-style.

Even more remarkably, out of 89 total pitches seen this season, Beltre has swung and missed at only three.

Last April, Beltre struck out 17 times.

So, yeah, one walk in 25 plate appearance concerns me. But this isn't any ordinary lack of plate discipline. If Beltre can be a power hitter who makes contact, who resists trying to pull a bad outside pitch, he may force pitchers to pitch much more carefully to him. And then, the walks - and in turn, the complete player we've all been waiting for - may yet arrive.

April 23: Black Tie Optional

As they begin their second homestand of the season, the Dodgers are like a guy in a tux who hasn't showered in three days. They're awful pretty until you get real close.

For the Dodgers to have a 10-5 record while outscoring their opponents for the season by one run, 70-69, is strange at a minimum. It's also something to be concerned about, though perhaps not as much as it appears.

April 29: It's Real, and It's Spectacular

He smashes pitches on the inside half of the plate like grapes in a vat.

He escorts pitches on the outside to right field like a gentleman - he might as well be laying his coat out over a puddle on the outside corner, protecting the dainty feet of a fair young maiden, the way he extends those tailing pitches such courtesy.

There is nowhere to pitch him now. His plate coverage is star-quality. It's dangerous.

So I'm declaring the wait over.

Spread the word.

A real ballplayer has arrived, and his name is Adrian Beltre.

And that talent isn't going anywhere.

No, the walks haven't come - only two so far this season. The cynical men on the mound aren't buying the news - it's April still, and many are seeing the graduated Beltre for the first time. Few of them are yet once-burned and even fewer twice-shy.

They're staying near the plate - and so Beltre swings. And he connects.

He can reach everything now and knows what to do with it. It's become instinct, like learning how to turn into a skid. It's become pure.

He's gone Gagne on us. So go gaga on him. His transformation is that profound.

As time passes, as the pitchers tinker, Beltre's production will fluctuate. The averages could go down - almost certainly will, even though he has not attained a 1.055 OPS this year from anything other than hitting everything really hard.

But I'm here to tell you, there's no fluke here. You can see it. Beltre is no longer chasing the game. He grabbed it with both hands, throttling it. Basic Training is over - no longer a scared, shaky private, he's officer material now. He used to be Swiss cheese at the plate - now he's Teflon.

And, by the way, only one error in the field so far.

I'm serious. Forget all that stuff about what motivates him, forget about first halves and second halves, forget about his appendectomy, forget about his age controversy. Forget the uncertainty. It's not the same guy anymore.

Visiting from out of town? Time you got clued in on what's happening in these parts.

Adrian Beltre is for real. He's a player. He's a Dodger, he's 25, and he's a star.

May 2004

May 7: Give Your Slightly Brittle Manager a Hug

He gives interviews like Defense Department briefings. He dresses his lineups with fashions from the '70s and '80s - the slap-hitting shortstop high, the young third baseman low. He can be too passive with removing his starting pitchers, too aggressive with removing his relievers. And he hasn't reached the playoffs ... yet.

But isn't it about time someone said something nice about Jim Tracy?

There isn't a Dodger fan who would say that Tracy has had championship-caliber talent since he became manager for the 2001 season. But in three years and a month, Tracy is 280-233 - a .546 winning percentage, which translates to 88 wins per 162 games.

It's easy to pick out his mistakes, but like an umpire, the good calls just fade into the background. On more occasions than I can count, he has gotten the right guy in the lineup and made the right move in a dicey situation. He gives players a chance to succeed, but doesn't give them forever. He has won games.

The Dodgers have never been out of the playoff hunt under Jim Tracy. Given the players he has had - a stud here and there, but no team of All-Stars - I wouldn't exactly call Tracy an underachiever.

This year, it's the same story. In some areas, there is talent - in others, it's just a ragtag bunch. The Dodgers may make the playoffs or they may not, and it's very possible that the final verdict on Tracy will depend on the result.

So for now, with the team leading the National League, with the team providing some excitement, let's throw some credit Jim Tracy's way. There are worse epitaphs than, "He must be doing something right."

May 13: Let's Go, Cora!

But I think about the events of that day again and again. And somehow I know that Winnie does too, whenever some blowhard starts talking about the anonymity of the suburbs or the mindlessness of the TV generation, because we know that inside every one of those identical boxes, with its Dodge parked out front and its white bread on the table and its TV set glowing blue in the falling dusk, there are people with stories, there were families bound together in the pain and the struggle of love. There where moments that made us cry with laughter, and there were moments, like that one, of sorrow and wonder."

- The Wonder Years, pilot episode

To watch Alex Cora in the seventh inning Wednesday night was to witness the crescendo of a perfect game in a single at-bat - an ferocious privilege. I can touch my face and still feel the heat from the excitement that built up in me and around me. It was an at-bat of sufficient length to be shown as a half-hour special on ESPN Classic.

It left me with a wish, a wish that all fans from other parts of the country could have seen it.

About halfway into the streak of consecutive foul balls Cora hit, the Dodger Stadium crowd started to take notice. As he reached double digits, a roar started to come with each swing. The scoreboard operator, not at all imprisoned from spontaneity, threw a running tally of the foul balls onto the big screen. Around foul ball No. 11, the crowd was rising to its feet. A cheer of "Let's go, Cora!" sprung from somewhere and immediately swept the entire stadium.

Something epic was happening and everyone knew it. Everybody got it. Everybody got that they were witnessing something special, something spectacular, in a series of liners and ground balls to the right of first base.

Foul ball - roar. Foul ball - roar. Foul ball - ROAR.

Cora was going 15 rounds, the underdog in a fight with an Apollo Creed in the polished Matt Clement. And the Dodger fans were in ecstasy. They weren't playing with beach balls. They weren't leaving early. They were there. They were in the game.

And then, after 14 foul balls, on the 18th pitch of the at-bat, Alex Cora swung and drove a long, high fly to right field. Back went Sammy Sosa, back. At the wall. Gone!

The crowd went berserk. And they earned every bit of their insanity.

Folks, I grew up in the suburbs and I grew up a Dodger fan, and neither has a nationwide reputation for generating crackle or passion or heat. But it is not because we have nothing better to do or nothing else to care about that we go to games, 3 million strong each year.

To anyone who might be reading this from the outside, who has bought into the stereotype of the Dodger fan, who has mocked us, please try to understand. Just try.

Dodger fans are real.

June 2004

June 7: The Man Pays Attention

Vin Scully does more than tell good stories about World War II and point out kids in the stands, in case you hadn't noticed.

As Adrian Beltre came to the plate for the first time Sunday, Scully spotted on our behalf that Beltre was not wearing a left ankle guard and commented that Beltre's ailing ankle must be improving.

Sure enough, Beltre homered to left in that at-bat, homered to right-center in his final at-bat, and in between hit a blistering shot at third base that should have been an RBI double, but instead turned into a line-drive double play.

June 16: Unhold That Thought

It's Adaptation, Dodger-style. It's a view into the process. Dodger screenwriter Jim Tracy and his doppleganger, Jim Colborn, simultaenously supporting and counfounding themselves.

Usually, Dodger fans see only the end of the inner management conversation - a decision to hire someone, to fire someone, to start someone, to bench someone.

With the Untitled Hideo Nomo Project, we've entered the collective Dodger mind in messy, uncompleted thought.

Back and forth Tracy and Colborn go, writing over each other's dialogue, acutely aware that Nomo is not performing and unsure how to proceed. From the Times, the Daily News and MLB.com, you can piece together the different forces pulling at the Dodger manager and pitching coach.

Let me take the writers away from the script and try to act as therapist.

Tracy and Colborn say that you don't give up on a guy who has pitched so well over the past two seasons, figuring he will come around. Consider a middle ground, however. Consider, as we've said before, a move out of the starting rotation, so that Nomo can enter a game at less meaningful point and prove that he can piece together two solid innings, then three solid innings, then four solid innings, then five solid innings. However long it takes.

Tracy and Colborn say that they have few other options to replace Nomo with. Consider that you only need one option to succeed. Consider that Edwin Jackson can certainly produce an ERA lower than Nomo's 7.56. Consider that however concerned you are with the development and psyche of the 20-year-old Jackson, you were willing to test those by placing him in the starting rotation in March. Replacing the obviously ailing Nomo offers considerably less pressure.

A therapist doesn't dictate how a client should act. A therapist helps a client see more clearly so that the client can better choose how to act.

Provided they are not backed into a stubborn, defensive corner, Tracy and Colborn know what to do. The next act is already in their heads. They just need to let it out. Right now, we're watching the journey.

June 13: The Atrophy Trophy

Last week, I wrote that Eric Gagne had pitched only 4 1/3 non-blowout innings in the past 30 days.

It's now 37 days, and the number of meaningful innings remains the same.

There is surely no one more aware of this than Dodger manager Jim Tracy. What may explain Tracy's reluctance to push Gagne into games sooner are the outstanding efforts by Guillermo Mota, Duaner Sanchez and Wilson Alvarez. Sure, Gagne is better than these guys - but not ridiculously better.

However, Tracy should not confuse the 2004 versions of Darren Dreifort and Tom Martin with outstanding relievers. If Tracy is going to look for ways to get his best pitcher into more games, he might think about going to his best relievers sooner, bypassing Martin and Dreifort until absolutely necessary.

We're not just talking about games like the one Friday, where Tracy chose Martin over Gagne in a 1-1 tie - though it didn't take hindsight to realize that a rested Gagne, or at least the surprising Sanchez, belonged in that game. It's also the games where the team is down by two runs in the fifth inning. There's no law that the Dodgers must turn those games over to Dreifort. Not every day, but some days, they can go to the core of their relief staff sooner.

If it means that on some day, the Dodgers end up with Dreifort pitching in a crucial late-inning situation, so be it. At least the Dodgers won't be going days at a time without Gagne seeing meaningful action.

June 18: Rousing!

... And then, Eric Gagne. Imagine a seven-year-old spying Superman on a fly-by. That's how you have to hear Vinny's call on the final pitch of the game - a called strike three, of course.

"Oh, yes! Oh my gosh, what a pitch! That's amazing! That's not fair. After a 97-mile-per-hour fastball, you can't tell, but that pitch was in the 60s ... a rainbow curve."

June 20: Rashomon Project: 'Yankees Suck' Is a Figure of Speech

In 1769, the first European land expedition party through California came upon a river, which they christened "Nuestra Señora de los Angeles de la Porciúncula." By 1781, a settlement was established there, which was named "El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Angeles de Porciúncula" or "The Town of Our Lady the Queen of Angels of the Little Portion." The official name of the city founded there was shortened to "El Pueblo de la Reina de Los Angeles" and came to be known by its shorthand version, "Los Angeles." (Source: Los Angeles Almanac)

By sheer happenstance, the second of the two words in this village's name started with a vowel, which made it ideal, 200 years later, for basketball fans in Boston, baseball fans in San Francisco, and others to initiate and perpetuate a cheer, "Beat L.A." Conversely, the second initial of the various sporting rivals of El Pueblo de la Reina de Los Angeles is not a vowel, rendering "Beat S.F." or "Beat N.Y." insufficiently melodious for effective use.

As a result, fans of the Los Angeles Dodgers baseball club have had to find other ways to confront their opponents. This past weekend, facing the New York Yankees for the first meaningful games in 23 years, some Dodger fans began chanting, "Yankees Suck," which spread fairly effectively through the stadium at an intermittent rate, though by no means a relentless one, at least on Saturday or Sunday.

What was so interesting at the ballpark Sunday, sitting in the stands, standing in the food lines, walking through the aisles, was how many Yankee fans one could hear responding to this cheer by citing evidence that the Yankees, in fact, do not suck. As if this were an epsiode of Law & Order, they objected, pointing out, for example, that the Yankees have the best record in baseball, that they have won more World Series titles than any other team and more league championships than any other team. The literalness with which they responded to this chant could only have been exceeded if they had also pointed out that no, in fact, the Yankees do not purse their lips and use their saliva in an inhaling fashion to enjoy a lollypop, nor do they perform oral sex on other men, that in short, they really do not suck.

There's no denying the obnoxiousness of the "Yankees Suck" cheer, any more than the obnoxiousness of the "Beat L.A." cheer. In general, I'm from the cheer-for-your-own-team school for a number of reasons - some vague feeling that it's impolite to jeer or boo, some vague fear that negativity toward the other team will incite its players to do better. But grudging respect is pretty clearly the subtext of these types of cheers, and I found it hard to believe, all annoyance aside, that the Yankee fans didn't enjoy the "Yankees Suck" cheer deep down - for the very opportunity it provided them to point out how great the Yankees are.

And so, for all of the electricity the night offered, it was also all very civilized. No roughhousing that I could see. Time after time, the "Yankees Suck" cheers would fade, the momentum of the game would shift, and a "Let's Go, Yankees" chant would rise up among the transplants. Not once did one group try to shout down the other. Yankee and Dodger fans, taking turns. Global politicians, take note.

Make no mistake: Fans of both teams really wanted to win this game. The shared history of the two teams, the fact that Sunday's attendance was another near-record crowd at Dodger Stadium, capping a record for a three-game series here (more than 165,000 fans), the fact that this was the rubber game of the series, was all part of the zeitgeist - the stakes were defined. Sunday meant one game in the standings for either team, but meant even more in terms of pride, in terms of self-esteem. With division rivals looming on the schedule for the week ahead, the loser of the game was destined to forget about it within a day, but the winner would be welcome to crow about it until October.

For the first few innings, I wondered what they were saying about the game, and in particular the Dodgers, on ESPN. Though the Dodgers perform on national television from time to time, there is an unavoidable reality that in baseball, the Yankees are Broadway, and the Dodgers hadn't performed on Broadway in 23 years. The Dodgers have an outstanding defense, for example, but no one outside the pueblo would ever notice until Cesar Izturis' Ozzie-like backhanded stop of a high hopper Friday night - against the Yankees. Dodger fans have been staying to the end of the game, to see Eric Gagne pitch, for about two years now, but as far as Newsday writer Jim Baumbach was concerned, when the Dodger fans remained in their seats until the very last pitch Friday, this was "unheard of in Los Angeles."

No - it was plenty heard of in Los Angeles, actually. But it was unheard of in New York. Anyway, it's heard of now. And - no surprise - it happened again Sunday.

After the start-of-game shadows gave pitchers Jose Contreras and Jose Lima a false sense of security, both pitchers were tagged with rough innings in the second and third, respectively, with Lima emerging ahead, 4-2. The Dodgers missed a chance to extend their margin in the bottom of the third inning when Milton Bradley inexplicably did not go from second to third on a groundout to second base by Shawn Green, leaving him one base short when Paul Lo Duca launched a one-out deep fly ball in the next at-bat.

As lively as the first three innings were, the middle three were tame. The biggest cheer from the crowd came during the KissCam segment in between innings, when the Cam focused on a man and a woman, and the woman turned - not to kiss the man to her right, but instead the woman to her left.

The game reignited in the seventh inning - and there was no relief from its intensity at that point until the game ended. The flames were kindled when, after Lima gave up a leadoff single to Jason Giambi, Dodger manager Jim Tracy forced us to go through the motions of Darren Dreifort and Tom Martin, rather than going straight to Guillermo Mota - even though you could sense that Mota would need to bail the team out anyway.

A key play in the inning came when ex-Dodger Gary Sheffield, target of half-hearted boos by some, hit a vicious sinking liner at Dodger left fielder Dave Roberts. Roberts had a chance to make a diving attempt, but in doing so would risk the ball skirting past him for what would probably have been a triple. Instead, Roberts played the ball for a single, holding Giambi at second. Though the tying runs were on base, there was some relief in knowing that Dreifort was past his biggest challenge. And indeed, Jorge Posada hit into a routine double play.

All Dreifort had to do was get past Hideki Matsui. But wait - I forgot - Matsui is left-handed, so of course Martin had to face him and give up an RBI triple that barely missed being a home run. Now, finally, Mota could come into the game and retire pinch-hitter Ruben Sierra on a fly ball.

Then, just minutes after Roberts played a ball conservatively in left field, he came to the plate and lined one to left field himself. Only this time, the left fielder, Matsui, charged the ball even though it was an automatic double. The ball sped under Matsui's glove, and Roberts, untethered, raced around the bases with time to spare before Matsui could retrieve the ball. The Dodgers led, 5-3, and the crowd danced on air.

(And see, if ever there was a time for the "Yankees Suck" cheer, this was it - as this was a sucky play by Matsui. But it didn't come. So you can see my point. It's not meant literally.)

In the top of the eighth, in an event obviously but altogether effectively staged since the stadium cameras were trained on it from the start, Dodger owner Frank McCourt gave Jack Nicholson an LA cap to replace the yellow-Laker-colored NY cap he was wearing. Nicholson promptly disposed of the cap like it was a stinky rag, and everyone laughed - yes, it's a ballgame here, a rivalry, not a war, and ain't that how it should be.

In the eighth, the crowd got nothing less than a memory it could keep forever. Eric Gagne vs. Alex Rodriguez. Hey, turns out you don't need to pay $5,000 for ringside seats to see a heavyweight prize fight - you can just go down to Dodger Stadium.

Inherting a runner at second base from Mota, Gagne got his first two strikes on Rodriguez with identical 89-mph breaking balls. He then struck out A-Rod on nothing less than a pure challenge pitch, a sandblasting 96-mph 2-2 fastball in the heart of the zone that I can still feel the wind from.

Gagne came right after Giambi leading off the top of the ninth and allowed a home run, cutting the lead to 5-4, and of course, even though the homer could be explained away as Gagne pitching to the score, not messing around with a batter who wasn't the tying run, it was completely realistic now that the record-setting save streak was about to end. Too bad the Tony Awards just passed, because what a story that would be for Broadway, huh?

If you want to measure the quality of a baseball game by how nervous you get that the team you are rooting for might lose, this was one high-quality baseball game. I don't know if it came across that way on its various broadcasts, but man, I cared deeply about what was going to happen next.

Sheffield grounded out, hard (is it ever anything less with Sheffield?) to Adrian Beltre. Posada flied out, medium-deep, to Roberts in left center. And up came Matsui, who had the big hits both Saturday and Sunday, yet now, because of his error, found himself in need of redemption. Classic Yankee Bernie Williams was on-deck to pinch-hit in case Matsui got aboard.

Matsui took the count to 3-2, then took a pitch that, from my angle on the second level between home and first, looked high and outside. It seemed that home plate umpire Jeff Kellogg took a moment to think about it - before he rang Matsui up. "Home-team call!" someone exclaimed bitterly. Like that has never, ever happened in the Bronx, I suppose.

Out we walked from our seats, "Yankees Suck" being shouted by a few people here and there. Out we drove from our parking spot, "Yankees Suck" being shouted by a guy smoking from behind the wheel of his pickup truck.

I'll clarify it for the record. The New York Yankees lost two of three games this weekend. They made some mistakes in this series - Classic Yankee Derek Jeter making more than one with his bunting and baserunning. But the New York Yankees most certainly do not suck.

As it turns out, however, neither do Los Dodgers del Pueblo de la Reina de Los Angeles.

June 23: Role Reversal

4/25/03 Dodgers 8.5 games behind Giants
6/18/03 Dodgers 0.0 games behind Giants
7/08/03 Dodgers 8.5 games behind Giants

5/12/04 Giants 8.0 games behind Dodgers
6/22/04 Giants 0.5 games ahead of Dodgers

What happens next?

I still don't think the Giants have the pitching depth to sustain a division-winning record nor the organization depth to significantly improve.

But they are more than pesky.

June 25: Blah

Blah. Blah blah blah. Blah blah, blah blah, blah blah blah blah. Blah.

Bleah.

June 30: Reputations Don't Drive in Runs

After Dave Ross slid like a runaway boulder into second base and Cesar Izturis gazelled it to first to avoid an inning-ending double play in the bottom of the eighth inning Tuesday, Paul Lo Duca came up in a 1-1 game, runners at the corners, two out, Shawn Green on deck.

Lo Duca is a contact hitter batting well over .300. Green is a slumping hitter hoping to stay at .260. Does draw a walk occasionally, though that's about it in his post-surgery world.

Giants manager Felipe Alou decided he would rather have Felix Rodriguez face Lo Duca. Most of the group I was with at the game felt the opposite, me very much included. We came to the conclusion that the only reason the Giants pitched to Lo Duca was because of the past-its-expiration-date reputation Green has as a dangerous hitter.

The last thing you like to do is load the bases with an intentional walk and leave your pitcher with no margin for error. But when the guy on deck is hitting like Shaq at the free-throw line, isn't he the one you want to take your chances with? When you need just one out, don't you want to go with the guy most likely to produce that out.

Definitely seemed that way at the time, and Lo Duca's game-winning hit did nothing to change that.

Back at home, we can look at the stats and see that thanks to his walks, Green's on-base percentage is the same as Lo Duca's - and higher than Lo Duca's against right-handed pitchers. Given that a walk would have been as damaging as a hit with the bases loaded, it was more than fair that Alou went after Lo Duca.

Let's close with a hypothetical, however. Dave Roberts was apparently nursing an injury and unable to play Tuesday. Say the bases do get loaded for Green. Does Dodger manager Jim Tracy let Green bat, or does he pinch-hit Roberts, who has a higher on-base percentage, who can draw a walk as well as beat out an infield hit?

You can be fairly certain that Tracy would leave Green in to bat - even if he believed Roberts would have the better shot to win the game. Tracy would be hoping for the hit that would turn Green's season around, and beyond that, Tracy doesn't want to have to face the grand jury investigation that would arise from pinch-hitting for a $16 million-a-year player.

No. You don't go seismic in the middle of the game.

Nevertheless, the day is coming. Tracy sees the lemon in Green and is just waiting to squeeze the lemonade. You don't get the sense Tracy really thinks Green (who, incidentally, loafed it like Roman Meal on a foul fly ball to right field early in Tuesday's game) is coming around, but rather that Tracy is keeping Green at No. 3 to humor him, to placate him, however temporarily. And though Tracy may believe - perhaps rightfully - that without a productive Green, the Dodgers don't stand a chance, you sort of feel like Tracy is eager to try to see just how far the Jayson Werths and Jason Grabowskis can take him.

Just a couple more 0 for 4s like tonight, and those Dodger fans impatient for Green to drop in the order may finally get see it happen. It won't be a happy day - far from it. And it's not like anyone else besides Adrian Beltre is any kind of pyromaniac in the batter's box. But for too long now, as noted baseball critic Gertrude Stein would be happy to tell you, with Shawn Green, there's been no there there. And Jim Tracy can see the emptiness as well as you and me.

July 2004

July 1: They Booed a Man in Reno, Just to Watch Him Die

I've never been booed in my life - not because I've never deserved it, but because, despite a famous In the Bleachers cartoon of years past, writers rarely get heckled by 50,000 angry fans.

Maybe being booed isn't so bad. Maybe if I had experienced it, I wouldn't be so sensitive to it.

Of course, I haven't been smacked with a 2-by-4 either. I could try that too.

* * *

Why did some fans boo Hideo Nomo when he walked off the mound last night?

It's not a trick question. I know what an 8.06 ERA is.

Though I don't boo people, I can understand fans venting while the opposition cracks, shellacks, lacquers and spackles their pitcher, and while their manager tolerates it. That's often as much about booing the event as the man.

But after it's over, after a guy has sweated through 95 pitches, almost every one of them traumatic in some fashion, how do you boo him?

Was it once-in-a-blue-moon attendees who booed, annoyed that their game had been spoiled?

Was it diehard fans who booed, to send a message that Nomo shouldn't return to that mound until the day - if that day is to ever come - he is ready to pitch with authority rather than prayer?

Was it the fates who booed, enforcing the rules that those who earn cheers one day must earn boos the next, to balance out the cosmos?

At a certain point, the past becomes irrelevant when you play the game. You have to send out your best nine of that day, regardless of how great a career someone has had. Otherwise, the starting center fielder for the Giants last night would have been Willie Mays.

But when a guy is walking off the field, if you have any knowledge at all to what he has done for your team in the past, the joy he has brought so many people, the effort he has put in for so many years, booing sounds way more hurtful to me than an 8.06 ERA.

* * *

Turning to Shawn Green ...

The original title of this piece was going to be, "Did They Boo Loo Gehrig?"

I have wondered over the past few days whether Yankee fans in 1939, before they knew that Gehrig was fatally ill, had booed their hero when his performance suddenly fell off the eight-year-old Empire State Building.

Some quick research on Retrosheet this morning reminded me that Gehrig made it through only eight games in 1939. Though he was 4 for 28, that probably wasn't enough time for Yankee fans to get angry at someone so beloved. Gehrig was coming off a fine 1938 season, batting .295 with 29 home runs and 114 RBI.

No one on the Dodgers, as far as I know, has Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. But I've never seen a power hitter still in his prime look more weak, look more like he was suffering the initial effects of Lou Gehrig's Disease, than Shawn Green.

Wednesday, Dodger manager Jim Tracy dropped Green to sixth in the order, and, though he is still holding out for patience, Green has accepted the demotion.

"This team, right now, Belly should be hitting fourth," Green told MLB.com. "Today's lineup, it's fine. I haven't been productive. If you move a guy down with the intent of it being a holding pattern until the player gets hot, sure. I'm just trying to get in a good groove and not worrying about anything else. When my swing is right, it's right."

Obviously, Dodger fans aren't happy that Green is struggling. Some will be satisfied that he was dropped to sixth in the lineup; others won't be satisfied until he is dropped further or benched.

For my part, no matter how much he claims otherwise, Green does not convince me that something isn't physically wrong with him. He kept quiet about being hurt last year and had a major health issue heading into this season. There is very little evidence that Green would publicly disclose a physical problem.

I can be unhappy about his performance. I can even yell at him when he only jogs after a foul fly ball to right, as he did Tuesday.

But I can't boo an injured player. And something - whatever it is - about Green is hurting - even if I'm wrong about the physical and it turns out to be only mental.

July 7: Winner! The Most Obscure but Memorable Dodger Is ...

The quest: Name "The Most Obscure but Memorable Los Angeles Dodger."

The level of response was memorable and hardly obscure: a total of 216 nominees.

And now, the real challenge comes - to determine a winner. What Los Angeles Dodger holds the perfect balance of anonymity and fame? Who pulled the greatest disappearing act? Which forgotten Dodger is most deeply and intimately recalled?

Who is the guy that you haven't thought of that you think the most of?

The key is balance. He can't be too memorable - goodbye, Terry Forster - or too obscure - goodbye, Fred Kipp. He can't be too recent - Bruce Aven - or too ancient - Randy Jackson. He can't have been a folk hero whose name comes up every year, like Dick Nen, nor someone you see asking trivia questions at Dodger Stadium every game, like Jim Gott.

He can't have virtually the same last name - Greg Gagne - as the most famous current Dodger. He can't be the brother of a famous Dodger - Dave Sax, Chris Gwynn. He can't have been an infamous disappointment - Greg Brock, Dave Goltz. He can't have had a real career with another team - Enos Cabell, Sid Bream.

And he certainly can't be my favorite Dodger of all time, R.J. Reynolds.

He should be a folk hero whose folk heroism went unrewarded.

I've given this a great deal of brain-churning thought over the past week. I have struggled. I have chosen and unchosen. And I have the answer - the definitive answer. The Most Obscure but Memorable Los Angeles Dodger is:

Mike Ramsey. Not the other Mike Ramsey. This Mike Ramsey.

Michael James Ramsey came out of nowhere to win the Dodger starting job in center field in 1987. When the regular season began, he stroked 10 hits in his first 28 at-bats. Then it started to come apart. He tried to hang in there with a batting average in the low .200s, but by late May, the Dodgers gave up and traded for John Shelby.

Ramsey was sent back to the minors. He came up in September, only to be used as a pinch runner and defensive replacement. The season ended, and with it, the major-league career of Mike Ramsey. He never made it back.

So that's how Ramsey became a finalist - someone who had hopes pinned to him like Eeyore's tail, wagging for a brief moment, only to fall off and disappear into the soil and grass of summers gone by.

The clincher for Ramsey is that only two years earlier, the Dodgers had another player named Mike Ramsey - Michael Jeffrey Ramsey. This First Mike Ramsey was more obscure and less memorable than The Second Mike Ramsey. And yet, both exist. So while The Second Mike Ramsey was memorable, it is also true that by virtue of his brief April/May career and his need to be distinguished from The First Mike Ramsey (as Bob Timmermann did in nominating the pair as "The White Mike Ramsey and The Black White Ramsey"), he retains his core obscurity. He holds the balance between being and nothingness.

The Second Mike Ramsey is, in short, The Most Obscure but Memorable Los Angeles Dodger.

Honestly, I think it's a real honor.

July 30: Advice to Local Media and Talk-Show Callers

Talk about Paul Lo Duca as the Dodgers' heart and soul all you want. Really. It'd be reprehensible to ignore it.

But "heart and soul" can't be the only words that cross your lips, any more than "Heart and Soul" should be the only song you can play on the piano. Tonight, I listened on the radio to broadcasters and callers, one after another, talk at length about the trade without mentioning a single statistic from any of the players the Dodgers received in exchange - not even a negative one that would support their anger over the trade. They couldn't be bothered.

"I just can't understand it," they wailed. Well, maybe if they took five minutes to do some research, they might find an explanation. It doesn't diminish one's love for Paul Lo Duca to look for answers.

If you consider both sides and decide the Dodgers have made a mistake, then we'll all be grateful to hear your arguments. But if your summary of today's trade is Paul Lo Duca, Guillermo Mota and Juan Encarnacion for lint, you are doing the Los Angeles sports community a serious disservice.

August 2004

August 1: Thinking It Through

... I have spent the past two days discussing the trades with my brother and father, neither of whom understand the moves. I've been explaining where DePodesta is coming from. They weren't familiar with how good Penny and Choi have been this season or how much potential they have. I'm reminding them that Lo Duca is 32 and entering the decline phase of his career, that the value of a Mota pitching four innings each week isn't equivalent to the value of a Penny pitching 7 to 14 innings each week.

It hasn't been hard to convey the value of ridding ourselves of Martin and Encarnacion, two players signed to contracts that pay them for perceived value rather than actual value.

Now, my family is now open-minded about Penny and Choi. Choi is a great pickup that will help the team this year and beyond. Again, in the Dodger lineup, substituting Choi for Encarnacion (even with Green making a slight step backward defensively to right field) is a positive.

At the same time, I've been struggling with the transactions more than you might expect - and it's because of Lo Duca.

It's not the "heart and soul" argument. I do feel the emotional impact of losing Lo Duca - truly, madly, deeply - but I looked at that Dodger team tonight, and they're going to be fine carrying Lo Duca in their hearts. And eventually, so will we.

It's just such a glaring hole at catcher. Whatever you thought of the Dodger starting pitching, there wasn't this huge crevice of performance that you were staring at. But when you look behind the plate, the void represented by the disappointing Dave Ross and the newly acquired Brent Mayne is huge.

Then, I went back to VORP. Essentially, given the choice between a starting battery of Wilson Alvarez (20.3 VORP) and Paul Lo Duca (22.3) or Brad Penny (33.3) and Dave Ross (-2.4), I'm actually going to take Alvarez and Lo Duca. With the stats to back me up.

Overall, the Dodgers have won the trades on paper. They have acquired more talent than they have given up. But I'm not sure I'm going to argue in favor of the trades any more, because I'm not sure that they've won the trades by enough.

There's no law, is there, that says I have to decide in advance whether these trades were good or not. I know it seems like there's such a law - in fact, it feels like it must be in the Constitution, the imperative is so strong. But I checked the books and it doesn't exist.

The remaining pre-trade Dodgers may render the trades unnecessary. Or absolutely necessary. I'm not convinced either way.

I am officially taking the position of wait and see, with hopes for the best. You may think it a cop-out, but I've given it a lot of thought and I find this to be the strongest position I could take.

August 9: Rotation, Rotation, Rotation

If Odalis Perez leaves his start Saturday writhing in agony, the trade for Brad Penny is looking pretty savioriffic.

Instead, it's Penny who runs off the mound Sunday like his arm was caught in a grease fire, and life in Dodgertown takes on a whole new meaning, pending the diagnosis.

The twin scenarios illustrate both the rationale and the risk behind the acquisition of Penny. Was Penny an injury risk? Perhaps, but you can't ask that question without asking the same about Perez. Both have had a history of arm troubles - Perez as recently as a month ago. A more proper question would address the relativity of the risk among the pitchers.

Today, the Dodgers have eight starting pitchers on their 25-man roster and disabled list, with immediate questions surrounding half: Penny, Edwin Jackson, Hideo Nomo and Kazuhisa Ishii (who had been demoted less than 24 hours before Penny's injury), not to mention lingering concerns about the long-term health of Perez and the long-term viability of Wilson Alvarez, Jose Lima - and what the hell, Jeff Weaver, too.

While many will find Penny's early departure Sunday adding injury to the insult of the Paul Lo Duca trade, I don't think it requires too convoluted a journey, as bizarre as it sounds, to conclude that Penny's injury justifies his acquisition. The Dodgers have been playing well, but their starting pitching is like strapping tape, nearly impossible to tear - until it is punctured, that is.

August 15: It's No Mendacity To Talk Tenacity

Disappointed but not discouraged was the tone I was prepared to take this afternoon. Two straight losses to a potential playoff opponent would be nothing to celebrate. But they were tight games, with perhaps the Dodgers' two most fallible starting pitchers (aside from Hideo Nomo) matched against two Chicago Cub aces - and therefore not indicative of how a postseason series might go.

Then came the comeback, from Mark Prior striking out the first four Dodgers to another derailment of the Cub bullpen and an 8-5 Los Angeles victory. To paraphrase Tennessee Williams, "There's nothing more powerful than the odor of tenacity."

This is a tenacious Dodger team. I don't offer that description as a character reference, though it may be apt. But rather, with that bullpen, that lineup and that bench, on a performance basis, there really isn't that much surrender to be found.

How did it happen? Better on the infield compared to 2003, better in the outfield, better on the bench.

I've been preparing for a swoon to come, fomenting in the middle relief and at catcher - a single loss quickly turning into five. But it hasn't come yet. Right now, this is not a team that gets buried for long.

August 18: Next Stop Porterville

Dodger announcer Ross Porter discusses an L.A. team in contention, the July trades, and the day, however far off, that change might come in the broadcast booth

Presidents come and go, both in the Oval Office in Washington D.C. and the Dodger office in Los Angeles, but Dodger announcers are like Supreme Court justices. The broadcast booth is the high court, a hallowed place that offers a lifelong vocation.

That doesn’t mean that it immediately occurred to Ross Porter back in 1976, when the Dodgers introduced him to the media as their newest announcer, that he would be still be broadcasting Dodger games nearly three decades later.

"The day that they announced that I was joining the broadcasting team, Walter Alston had just announced he was retiring after 23 years,” Porter told Dodger Thoughts in an interview Wednesday. “The 1976 season had just ended, and they had a little thing to introduce me to the media. Walter O’ Malley, bless his heart, was still alive ... and Walter got up to introduce me, and I’ll never forget he made this statement: ‘We’re happy to have Ross with us’ and something to the effect of Walter Alston just retired after 23 years, and we’ll come back here in 23 years and Ross will still be going.

“And I’ve thought about that often, and I’ve gotten to 28 now.”

Twenty-eight years is as long as any U.S. Supreme Court Justice has ever served, save John Marshall (1801-1835). Of course, Porter works alongside a man who puts Marshall’s tenure to shame: Vin Scully is in his 55th year in the high-backed chairs.

Inevitably, when the opportunity to discuss Dodger broadcasting appears, the elephant in the interview room is how long Scully will remain a Dodger broadcaster. But the question also applies to Porter, often considered the heir to Scully’s Chief Justice seat - yet someone who is 65 years old himself.

Porter emphasized that neither he nor Scully have any plans to leave the Dodgers, and that their departures, while inevitable someday, aren’t currently being discussed with the Dodger executive branch. However, that doesn’t mean that Porter and Scully don’t address the subject in chambers.

“Vin and I will talk about what’s coming up,” Porter said, “what he sees ahead, and we both realize that neither one of us has too many years left. He has not put any year on the end of his career; neither have I. And I’ve always said I never wanted to be the one to step into those shoes. I think the person who replaces Vin Scully has got a major problem. Like Gene Bartow replacing John Wooden.”

Those words would shock no one. But then Porter went on to share a less obvious scenario, yet one that would be remarkably poetic. It’s just a thought, lightly etched, but nonetheless a dramatic one for longtime fans of the Dodgers.

“I think in the back of my mind,” Porter said, “it would suit me wonderfully if Vin and I went out at the same time.”

* * *

Porter has been humbled before. At the start of his career, he relied so much on statistics that he drew significant criticism. While to some extent Porter is still the distaff brother in an Everyone Loves Vinny world, that criticism has softened for a number of reasons.

“I’ll give you my view on it,” Porter offered. “Somebody once said, ‘Statistics are the soul of baseball.’ I think that’s true. I think when I got started, that I leaned on them too much. ... I overdid it, I admit that. I think over the years I’ve cut back on that. I think over the years, I haven’t heard too much of that criticism. Yeah, occasionally somebody writes a letter to the editor. But the style has changed in baseball - you turn on a telecast and you’re gonna get a lot of numbers.”

Porter is intrigued by the more advanced statistics now available - he is a reader of this site and others that use them - but admitted he is not in a comfort zone with them. In any event, even in a climate more willing to embrace statistics, Porter remains wary of going overboard.

“I think I really believe now that it’s more prevalent than it ever has been,” Porter said, “but I’ve gone out of my way to cut back on (statistics) as much as I can. Some people e-mail or say to me, I sure appreciate you put the numbers out there. But I’ve also worked hard of late to try to tell more stories, and get a more personal view of the players in. It’s been an interesting 28-year ride, let me put it that way.”

The ride never got more interesting than just a few years ago, when nearly yearlong attempts to explain a persistent throat irritation Porter was experiencing culminated in an unimaginable diagnosis.

“First I had a four-hour sinus operation, to go up in there and clear some things out,” Porter said. “They found a quarter-sized hole over my brain, then I had a 10-hour brain surgery.

“I was in the hospital eight days. When I got out of the hospital, the Dodgers had been nice enough to put up a message that you can send Ross e-mail. The message was up for 13 days, and I got 1,300 e-mails from people, and that really kind of staggered me. And I think that gave me a greater appreciation of what I do and how many people love the Dodgers and want to see them do well, and kind of look to me as a member of the family. I think it makes me more grateful.”

So yes, like Vin Scully - if not with Vin Scully - someday Ross Porter will leave the Supreme Court of the Dodgers. But the job still has more than enough to offer him, and he still has more than enough to offer to the people.

September 2004

September 1: The July Trades: Despite a Hazy Outcome, A Clear Rationale

On April 16-17, Eric Gagne allowed runs in consecutive appearances.

They came a day after he had thrown all of 12 pitches on April 15, following four days of rest from April 11-14.

They came with Guillermo Mota on the roster.

They came without an uproar of any kind.

* * *

On August 18-20, Eric Gagne allowed runs in three consecutive appearances.

They came following rest on August 16 and 17. They came following a stretch in which Gagne made one appearance, totaling 23 pitches, in seven days (August 11-17). They came 15 days after Gagne had allowed his last earned run.

They came without Guillermo Mota on the roster.

And the reaction was as if someone had taken an axe to the Statue of Liberty.

The Dodgers have destroyed their bullpen. They've ruined Eric Gagne!

* * *

A few years ago, I wrote and edited for an Internet news service focusing on technology coverage. The publisher was a savvy businessman, who found the capital to build the company and who kept it alive even during the dot-com plunge. He knew as much about journalism, however, as a camel knows about an igloo.

Early on - but after I had taken the job, unfortunately - the publisher articulated his philosophy about how you write a news article. He felt quite strongly about it, in fact. He believed that first, you write the story with the point of view you want to convey, and then, you call to get quotes from sources that will fit what you have already written.

I can't begin to describe how appalled I was. It was the journalistic equivalent of "I'm gonna fit in this size-2 dress even if it kills me." (The more cliched version of this is, "Never let the facts get in the way of a good story.")

Such has been the case with much of the discussion of the Dodgers since July 30. Many pundits believed that the Dodgers had made a mistake in trading Mota and Paul Lo Duca - and so they were going to find a way to back up that opinion if at all humanly possible.

The fact is, the Dodgers did weaken their bullpen when they traded Mota. No one can deny that. However effective Yhency Brazoban and Giovanni Carrara have been since Mota's departure, having them in combination with Mota would be glorious.

The other fact is, the Dodgers surely weakened their catching in parting with Lo Duca, the key element of the trade for the Florida Marlins.

But those facts needs to be put in perspective. Today is September 1. The first day of a new month. Let's use this occasion, shall we, to put to rest the notion that the trade was unjustified.

Tonight, in the heat of a pennant race, the Dodgers will start a pitcher with an 8.06 ERA, Hideo Nomo. The Dodgers traded Lo Duca and Mota precisely so that this tightrope act would not occur. Instead, they designed that spot to go to a pitcher with a 3.02 ERA, Brad Penny.

In other August moments, the Dodgers started a pitcher whom they wanted to demote to the bullpen, Kazuhisa Ishii, and a pitcher who himself wanted to be demoted to the bullpen, Wilson Alvarez. They regularly started a journeyman in Jose Lima.

I like Nomo's chances to lower his ERA tonight, especially against the Arizona Diamondback lineup. Ishii has had consecutive solid starts. Lima has been respectable. Alvarez had half of a good month.

But truly, with a starting rotation ERA (4.27) that is eighth in the National League - worse than possible playoff opponents St. Louis, Atlanta, Chicago, Houston and San Diego, despite the nurturing environs of Dodger Stadium - how can anyone fault the Dodgers for wanting Penny?

In case it has gotten lost in the shuffle, I determined August 1 that I wouldn't have made the Lo Duca-Mota trade. "Overall," I wrote, "the Dodgers have won the trades on paper. They have acquired more talent than they have given up. But I'm not sure I'm going to argue in favor of the trades any more, because I'm not sure that they've won the trades by enough."

In other words, I felt that the Dodgers risked too much for the potential reward. I felt very much that the Dodgers might come out ahead, but that it was definitely a wait-and-see, and that they almost as easily could come out behind (especially in 2004, as opposed to 2005, 2006, etc.).

However, the fervor with which any Dodger ill gets blamed on the Lo Duca-Mota trade has made my summer in the "Keep Lo Duca" camp truly uncomfortable.

News flash: Even with Mota, Gagne has and would have been vulnerable to a stretch where he would give up - gasp - runs.

Even with Lo Duca, the Dodgers would have been vulnerable to nights of no production from their catching.

And if had Penny not been acquired, and any existing Dodger starting pitcher had gone down with injury, how stretched out would the pitching staff be then?

Beyond that, I've noticed that the July trades tend to be thought of as separate entities: 1) Penny/Hee Seop Choi, 2) Steve Finley. But shouldn't they be evaluated as one, since they were clearly done in concert with each other?

As far as their 2004 roster is concerned, the Dodgers gave up a decent hitter, especially for a catcher, and a superlative reliever. In return, they got two hitters and a pitcher.

Choi and Penny haven't produced much for the Dodgers. But Finley, on the other hand, has been in center field what Mota was for the bullpen. Finley has been the ace setup man for Adrian Beltre.

The Dodgers are currently on the losing ends of the combined trades because Penny, after pitching eight shutout innings in his first apperance with his new team, got hurt, and Lo Duca, after homering in his first appearance with his new team, did not. Had the reverse occurred, the Dodgers would be clear winners. Had neither player gotten hurt, the Dodgers would be just fine.

So is there any way at all people can stop asking, "How could the Dodgers have traded Lo Duca and Mota?" Because the explanation is clear, and has been clear from the get-go. They wanted a starting pitcher and more left-handed power. They paid a lot, but they got a lot. Brad Penny, Steve Finley and Hee Seop Choi constitutes a big haul.

The only notable event is that we simply haven't seen all of this haul in action for the past three weeks.

As someone who was at best ambivalent about losing Lo Duca, I hardly expect everyone to like the trade. But those who judge should at least bring in all the facts.

September 16: Your Morning Sedative

If the Dodgers trailed in their division and their final 15 games were against teams with a combined .551 winning percentage, wouldn't you feel pretty poorly about their chances?

That's the dilemma - that's right, the dilemma - facing the San Francisco Giants beginning Friday ...

September 24: Don't Drop the Boy

My 7 1/2-week-old son, who has never known the Dodgers not to be in first place in his lifetime, was quite agitated between 9 and 10 p.m. tonight. My wife thinks it was constipation, but you and I know the real reason.

So there he was in my arms, for about a solid hour, as the countdown to win a game by avoiding Barry Bonds went down. (As Vinny said in the line of the night, "You know how the Dodgers try to get the ball to Gagne? The Giants are trying to get the bat to Barry.")

I held the boy steady when Cesar Izturis made the diving stop to retire Deivi Cruz. And I held the boy steady when Eric Gagne, one out away from victory without Bonds, threw his 12 consecutive balls to the next three batters.

I told myself that I had to take care of the boy, no matter what.

And I whispered to the boy with the bases loaded, "Bring it home."

And he did.

October 2004

October 2: Chemistry!

"WAAAAHOOOOOOOOOO!" screameth the Dodger fan. "WAAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

Chemistry. Lo and behold, the Dodgers have it.

We all loved Paul Lo Duca, but even without him, they're ionized.

Because chemistry is not an ingredient, it's a product. In the Dodgers' case, it's certainly not a product of hitters putting the team ahead early, or starting pitchers going the distance. It's a product of being ready to seize the moment, no matter how late nor how improbable.

Jump up, Dodger fans. Jump up!

* * *

And for those who insist that chemistry matters, what about the chemistry discussed after the game? What about the idea that the acquisition of Steve Finley mixed a playoff veteran into a broth of playoff virgins? What about the team meeting that Finley and Robin Ventura held three weeks ago to guide the Dodgers over the pressure cooker stretch run?

The Dodgers went 15-10 in their final 25 games up to the clinch. That's .600 ball, and they were maligned and questioned almost every step of the way.

* * *

September 11, 1983 is still the greatest regular season game in Los Angeles Dodger history. Start to finish, it had everything, while today's game was 8 1/2 innings of prelude to a half-inning of incredulity. But for a new generation, October 2, 2004 will never be forgotten. Some new baseball fans were born today.

Others were born two months ago. Remember "Don't Drop the Boy"? I was tested again, through a 31-minute bottom of the ninth.

This time, my wife offered to take my son from my hands. But something told me I shouldn't let go. I stood, pacing with him, from Shawn Green's single just in front of a should-have-been-defensively-replaced Barry Bonds all the way through Finley's walkoff grand slam.

Then I put the boy down and jumped up.

* * *

The Dodger bullpen pitched nine innings today and allowed three runs. That ought to have been plenty, as was suggested in the morning.

But the Dodger offense went the entire game without hitting a line drive, and didn't really put solid wood on the nose of the baseball until the final at-bat of the game today. It was the team's worst showing at the plate this season.

Last week, the hitting was there but the pitching was gone. This week, the reverse.

If both get on or off next week, we're looking at a playoff series sweep, one way or another. If they alternate - more nailbiters.

* * *

Eric Karros was the color commentator on Fox for today's game, which added an interesting touch. First of all, he wasn't bad.

He tended to shout a little - he got a little too revved up. And more than once, he stated the obvious - or even the proto-obvious, like when he pointed out that A.J. Pierzynski, who was 8 for 8 in his career against Elmer Dessens, was either due to get out or likely to get a couple more hits.

But you have to give Karros credit. He was dignified in his opening conversation about Jim Tracy, who in 2002 was the man removing an underpeforming Karros out of the lineup. If Karros was a little too enthusiastic in questioning Tracy's decision not to pinch-hit for Wilson Alvarez with two on and one out in the fifth inning, perhaps he can be excused - it was the key moment of the game until the bottom of the ninth.

Even more surprisingly, well before the remarkable comeback, Karros came out in favor of Paul DePodesta's July trades. Karros hit all the points - that the struggles of the Dodger pitching validated the need to acquire another starter, that Hee Seop Choi - significantly, Karros' competitor for playing time in Chicago in 2003 - had strong potential, and that chemistry and Lo Duca weren't the be-all and end-all. At the end of the game, Karros said emphatically that Finley was the best deadline acquisition by any ballclub this year, and who could argue?

There's an edginess to the on-air Karros that I always sensed about him on the field. He has a sense of humor, and is articulate, but there seems to be a level of intensity - if not anger - just below the surface. If he can find the right, um, chemistry of all these elements, I can see him succeeding in this new career.

I just hope it doesn't come at the expense of a broadcaster that I like.

October 9: Prima Lima - He's a Dreama

Prior to tonight, the two most exciting Dodger pitching performances I've witnessed in person:

1) Fernando Valenzuela's no-hitter in 1990.

2) Pedro Astacio's three-hit, 10-strikeout shutout in his major-league debut.

Jose Lima's shutout against the best offense in baseball, in the playoffs, in an elimination game, easily makes this a top three.

I was forced to be at home for the Dodgers' amazing division-clinching comeback against San Francisco two weeks ago. I saw the entire game on television (Dodgers, I'm hopelessly TiVoted to you) and was thrilled.

But the difference in being able to attend the game is the glory of being able to genuflect, to offer your praise and feel it being received. And it was just a magnificent experience. I mean, I was waving and yelling to Lima from the Loge level - and I'm pretty sure he knew it.

Leaping to your feet in front of the television set just isn't the same.

Lima's roughest inning tonight was the first, when Tony Womack became what turned out to be the only Cardinal to reach third base. When Lima escaped that dilemma, he earned a standing ovation - who knew if we would able to give another?

As it turns out, we gave him about a dozen.

While I was in the food line, the Dodgers got a break when Lima was ruled safe on a hinky bunt to load the bases with none out in the third inning. Not apologizing for that one, considering how rough it's been for Los Angeles this week. The play came just after Alex Cora was deked by Scott Rolen into not sliding into third on Brent Mayne's single and almost got himself tagged out. Razor-thin margin for error, these Dodgers have.

Cesar Izturis popped out to short left, and Jayson Werth struck out. Just as it looked like the Dodgers would miss their latest, and perhaps last, golden opportunity, Steve Finley delivered a broken-bat two-run double to put the Dodgers ahead.

Shawn Green then hit two solo home runs in the fourth and sixth innings - bigtime plays that help make up for Adrian Beltre's sudden power shortage - to give Los Angeles and Lima a 4-0 lead.

When Lima came up with the bases loaded in bottom of the sixth, one can understand the tempation to pinch-hit for him. Would four runs be enough against St. Louis? Did Lima have more than one good inning left in him?

While I was against Jim Tracy's decisions in recent weeks not to pinch-hit for Wilson Alvarez against the Giants on September 25 and not to relieve Jeff Weaver in Thursday's Game 2, I supported his choice to let Lima bat for himself. Lima's pitch count was in the sixties (he needed only 65 pitches to pitch the second through seventh innings) and he was so integral to this game - to remove his energy from the mound with three entire innings to go seemed premature.

After all, Cardinals manager Tony La Russa walked perhaps the worst-hitting catcher in baseball, Brent Mayne, with a runner on first base. Do you think he expected the Dodgers to take Lima out?

Lima cruised through the seventh and was one strike away from a perfect eighth before Womack singled. Lima suddenly looked a little wobbly - a couple of pitches went in the dirt. Eric Gagne was warm in the bullpen. With Larry Walker up and Albert Pujols on deck, this figured to be the end.

Instead, Lima retired Walker. Eight innings in the books.

And indeed, that seemed enough. You didn't want to see Lima's outstanding outing marred by a collapse - and you had a rested Gagne ready. But then again, with a four-run lead, wasn't it worth a shot to see if Lima could ride this horse all the way back to the stables? The Dodgers certainly planned to remove him if one batter reached base in the ninth.

Facing the three All-Stars, Pujols, Rolen and Jim Edmonds, Lima retired them in order on 10 pitches - 10 pitches! - Beltre flairing a basket catch of a popup to end it.

Lima kneeled down and genuflected. As did we all.

What an incredible night in Los Angeles baseball history.

October 10: Tip 'o the Hat

Sad but satisfied, I bid adieu to the 2004 Dodgers. I enjoyed them tremendously.

Dodger Thoughts will continue in the offseason. I might take a few days off after the World Series, as I did last year, but otherwise I hope all of you who have found this place during the season will stick around. We'll start looking ahead almost immediately, but for now, it's with a great deal of fondness that I tip my hat to 2004.

Beltre comes alive.

Cora's 18-pitch home run.

Bittersweet farewells to Guillermo Mota, Dave Roberts and Paul Lo Duca.

Pulling for Nomo even though there was nothing left.

Weaver outpitching Kevin Brown.

A find in Jayson Werth.

Robin Ventura, Jose Hernandez and Olmedo Saenz - the oldies but goodies.

Shawn Green's second-half comeback (Did you notice in the paper today he finally admitted his shoulder was still bothering him in the first half?)

Izturis keys a galloping gourmet defense.

Lima Time is no joke.

Tim Wallach makes believers.

Yhency is fency.

Jason Grabowski provides some key help amid first-half injuries.

C'mon, Milton, light my fire ...

Odalis' big win in San Francisco.

Steve "finally, a deadline acquisition that works" Finley.

Nancy Bea, we cherish each moment they give you.

Paul DePodesta, we're keepin' the faith.

Jim Tracy, you're always learning. You might just make it after all.

Ross Porter, you're coming back. I'm overruling whoever says you're not. No way you're going like this.

Ishii, I'm so used to your act right now, it doesn't even faze me.

Brian Jordan, you - whoops, wrong year.

Wilson Alvarez, tough going today, but we still like ya.

Did you think I would forget Eric Gagne? You're all right, kid. Come back real soon.

Congratulations to the Cardinals. That's a fine team.

October 13: Soul Survivors

In the end, chemistry had nothing to do with it.

Those who today criticize the Dodgers' trade of Paul Lo Duca, with the season in rear view, point to the stretch-drive failings of Hee Seop Choi, Brent Mayne, Dave Ross and/or Brad Penny.

Perhaps I missed a corner of the Internet, but I didn't find anyone this week who was attributing the Dodgers' first-round playoff exit to a loss of chemistry, heart or soul.

Part of this is because the Dodgers displayed what many would interpret as chemistry, heart and soul - not to mention blood and guts - in surviving something of a September performance collapse to win 94 games, a division title and one more postseason victory than it had achieved in any year since "Don't Worry, Be Happy" was Billboard's No. 1.

But the lesson here is that even for July's chemistry diehards, results were what mattered.

If some combination of Choi, Mayne, Ross and Penny had performed to expectations - and make no mistake, none of them did - even critics would have viewed the trade more favorably by degrees.

If Lo Duca had excelled in September, people would have pointed first to his numbers, not his personality, in noting what the Dodgers had lost.

If the Dodgers had fallen out of first place and/or missed the playoffs, those clawing at the carcass would have hit on chemistry only if there were no bones to pick over the on-field performance of the aforementioned principals.

I say this as someone who loved watching Lo Duca, who loved the way he played the game. But I think the past two months have shown the limits that one person's chemistry has on a 25-man roster.

Lo Duca's heart and soul certainly infuse his own play, and perhaps they serve as a limited influence on others. But it's not significant.

If there's any more doubt, consider Jose Lima, who picked up the Dodger heart, soul and fire banner where Lo Duca left it. Lima enlivens and inspires. But he didn't inspire the other starting pitchers to pitch better, he didn't inspire the hitters to give the Dodgers early inning leads, and it's unconvincing to say that he had any meaningful role in the late-inning comebacks.

There are reasons to feel support the Dodgers' trade of Lo Duca and reasons to critique it. For example, on the one hand, the Dodgers needed starting pitching and cheaper offense for the future. On the other hand, was it worth acquiring both a first baseman (Choi) and an outfielder (Steve Finley) in a pennant race when only one position was available for them, while at the same time diminishing the catcher slot?

Frankly, my desire to continue this debate is as over as the Dodger season. Many of you might feel the same way. But if this debate continues - or if a new one begins, say over Lima - I am hopeful that, it will be about the real issues, not invented ones like chemistry. As much as I love seeing players play with heart and soul, this would save me a lot of heartache and soulache.

October 26: The Hole Closes Up

I first became aware of the hole closing up in 1997, the year after an incident in which, for the second time in about 18 months, a friend of mine died unexpectedly and tragically.

This was someone I saw or talked to on an almost daily basis, someone who combined joy and thoughtfulness, someone who taught me when I was single, unemployed and depressed - taught me like I was learning to walk - that I was still young and that my life was very much ahead of me.

It wasn't that John Egan didn't have his own troubles, but he didn't let those troubles run his life. It is not trite, but rather simple fact, to say that Egan conveyed to me much of the means I needed to cope with his passing.

Egan's death, just before his 26th birthday, left a hole in my life painful enough that I could physically feel the wound open.

Though it was one of the deepest, this was not the first time in my life that I could feel such a wound. In fact, I'm fragile enough to have felt it after a breakup. Even the pang I feel in my stomach when I leave a place where I've built sentimental ties, I associate with that wound.

But something about the lessons Egan passed on to me made me experience his wound in a new way - and I say this with some regret. In helping me be positive about my life amid the gloom, he made me conscious of how the holes that open in your life almost always close. The wounds heal. There might be a scar, but faint.

And so it is today that when I think of John Egan, my very good friend, I don't feel pain, but disbelief. I don't feel physicality. I just wonder, wonder what his life would be like today, what he would share with his family, and his friends, and me.

I find it strange that I had not connected this awareness with the Dodgers until this month. The Dodgers won a division title, won a playoff game, celebrated more than they had in years. They did so without a player, Paul Lo Duca, who was part of the fabric of the team, whose departure ripped open wounds for many fans. Lo Duca is remembered and his contributions missed. But the outpouring of grief, which had people all but rending their garments on July 31, is gone. Nowhere to be found. The hole closed up.

And so it is today that I return from a weekend away at my college reunion, a weekend all about connections made and lost, to learn that Ross Porter has officially been told not to return to the Dodger broadcasting booth.

This is not a tragedy, not a death in the family. Some fans won't even miss Porter, though I think even most of those, as has been written elsewhere, cringe at how callously his departure was handled. (Among other insults, Dodgers.com did not even do a news story on the event, instead publishing only that feeble press release.)

But for me and many others, when we think of the Dodgers right now, there is that hole where Porter sat, where his friendly drawl floated through the air. There is that emptiness.

For selfish reasons, I feel this even more than a few others. Porter, as you might know, became a friend to me and this website this year, friendships that I consider among my highlights of 2004. Those won't end with his departure, but I will certainly regret the distance as he moves on to his next job.

We can cherish the fact that Vin Scully is still around, but the hole of Porter's absence remains.

For now.

From where I sit today, what saddens me the most about Porter leaving the Dodgers is not that it leaves a hole, but that the hole will eventually close up. And what we'll be left with are just the hair's-width memories of what it was like to listen to him talk about the Dodgers with some of the same passionate level-headedness that I try to bring to this site.

Today, people feel Porter's departure. Tomorrow, all they'll do is remember it. Because, as John Egan certainly would have shown me by his example, there's so much in this world to feel good about. When I think of Egan at this moment, it is sadness mixed with a smile. How could it not be?

But, even in deference to Egan, I say this. Time marches on, time grabs lives before they are lived and careers before they are completed, and I don't like it.

November 2004

November 9: The Last Dodger HR Leader

When Adrian Beltre took over the major league lead in home runs this season, it was widely reported that he was the first Dodger to do so since Tim Jordan, way back in 1908.

The ensuing number of people rushing to tell the story of Jordan numbered, well, in the zeroes.

Until now!

November 14: The Disposable Baseball Blogger

Farewell, Brian Gunn.

Farewell, Edward Cossette.

Rest in peace, Doug Pappas.

Baseball blogging is young, young like the days when there were hundreds of automobile makers instead of a handful, young like the days when there was enough test pattern time on your television that anyone with an idea and a sponsor could grab a regular time slot (although, thanks to cable and satellite, you might say TV clumsily clings to its youth.)

The brief history of baseball blogging has been a land rush - acres and acres of virgin www out there for the pickings like an online version of the old American West, requiring only a little moxie to stake a claim. But just like the dark side of Manifest Destiny, not every homesteader hangs on. Some stick it out for only a few months, or weeks, or days, or - you've seen it, no doubt - hours.

The tattered remnants of their domains can still often be found, scattered about like ghost towns or crosses in the dirt. It's been axiomatic in the genre that even very intelligent voices are better suited to be regular readers than regular writers. And some cityfolk never had any business being out in that wilderness to begin with.

But 2004, perhaps, marks the first year in which a couple of baseball bloggers who struck it rich creatively, a Huntington and a Stanford (hey, it's Big Game week) of baseball blogging, have decided to walk away on top. Within weeks of each other, Gunn and Cossette, the leading bloggers of this year's World Series teams at Redbird Nation and Bambino's Curse, pulled up stakes and head back to their former lives.

Most certainly, this year marked the first time that the passing of a baseball blogger was mourned. Doug Pappas, a contributor to Baseball Prospectus, also authored his own website, Doug's Business of Baseball Weblog, which was the world's most lucid and informative provider of legal and business information and commentary related to baseball. Pappas died unexpectedly in May, at the age of 42.

It's enough to make the hardiest consider questions of their own baseball blogging mortality. No one sticks it out in the Great American Blog without passion and dedication, but in a world where financial compensation could be years away, if it's coming at all, in a world where there's always some young whippersnapper ready to try his luck at being his own baseball-writing boss, in a world where some of the best have already bid us goodbye, some serious questions come to mind.

No. 1 on the list is this: How fleeting is a baseball blogger's existence?

December 2004

December 16: True Dodgers, Part II

From Monday's group discussion on "True Dodgers," Dodger Thoughts readers Ling Ngoh and Tim Weiss got their comments into Jim Alexander's Riverside Press-Enterprise column today on sports and loyalty. (Read Dodger Thoughts, become famous!)

It's an interesting piece, although I think it gives us fans too much credit. We are as quick to abandon a player when he falls on hard times as they are quick to abandon us for a better offer.

You'll notice, I think, not a single tear being shed over Hideo Nomo's departure (this year or the first time it happened a few years ago) - even though he captivated fans for long stretches. Kirk Gibson was only with the team for a couple of seasons - much less than home-grown flops Jose Gonzalez or Billy Ashley. But is Gibson less of a true Dodger? Nope.

Whether that means fans are jaded, I don't know. But I think the reality is that you become a true Dodger just by doing well in a Dodger uniform, not by how long you wear it - and I think that's not a recent development, that it's been true for a long time.

That being said, though, I don't think anyone can top Eric Enders' description of what it means to be a true Dodger. For those who missed it:

OK, here's my definition, I guess. A "True Dodger" is like your girlfriend: You know she's slept with others before you, and will sleep with others after you, but you don't care, because she's sleeping with you now and that's all that matters. You just have to be careful to avoid the ones who are too young or all washed up...

Ex-Dodgers also have subcategories like ex-girlfriends do:

- There's the one who, although long gone, you smile every time you think about. (Fernando)
- There's the one you wish you had back. (Pedro Martinez)
- There's the one you hope you never see again. (Carlos Perez)
- There's the one who never shuts up. (Lima)
- There's the one who was really special, although you never seem able to explain why. (Dave Hansen)
- There's the one who you thought would be really great but turned out to be a major disappointment. (Greg Brock)
- There's the one that was short-lived, but incredibly hot while it lasted. (Steve Finley)
- There are the one night stands, with names you can barely remember. (Hey there, Garey Ingram.)
- Last, but not least, there's the one who ran away with all your money. (Andy Ashby)
- (And one more) The one you go out with because you really have the hots for her sister. (Chris Gwynn)

By the way, a number of sportswriters in recent weeks, including at the Winter Meetings, have told me how impressed they are by the quality of discussion in the comments on this site. That Alexander came here to solicit thoughts for his column further supports the point. You folks really deserve a pat on the back.

December 16: Transition

ESPN reported the Beltre signing Thursday afternoon. Mariners general manager Bill Bavasi could not be reached to comment, but a club official said the team doesn't comment on signings until they are finalized.
- MLB.com

As we wait on official confirmation ... for the white smoke to appear ...

Thinking about Pedro Martinez ... although at the time, he didn't leave a hole the size of the one the Dodgers are staring at now ...

Thinking about Mike Piazza ...

Thinking about how unlikely it is that any of the Dodger middle infielders should play third base ...

Thinking about whether a trade of an outfielder to come and a run for Carlos Beltran is in store ...

Thinking and reading ... your comments, the wires ...

Thinking about whether 2005 becomes a rebuilding year ... and reminding myself that the A's under Billy Beane haven't needed to have rebuilding years, so why should the Dodgers?

Someone mentioned Joel Guzman ... thinking about whether he will be rushed to the big leagues like Beltre was ...

Thinking about how much I'll miss watching the blossoming of Beltre before my eyes ... but how I won't have to worry that it won't continue ...

Thinking I really do have Beltre indigestion ...

On the front page of ESPN.com this morning was the following poll:

Which is the best athlete born on December 30?

Kerry Collins (32 years old)
LeBron James (20)
Sandy Koufax (69)
Tiger Woods (29)

My answer was not automatic, except for dismissing Collins. James is clearly impressive, and I continue to love Tiger the way I saw others continue to love Michael Jordan.

Koufax.

To help make sense of the Dodger announcer reconstruction for 2005, I checked in with Tom Hoffarth, who succeeded me as sports media columnist for the Daily News nearly 13 years ago and hasn't let go of the gig since. (It's the relative equivalent of Franklin Roosevelt succeeding William Henry Harrison, without the polio or pneumonia.)

One thing you'll notice is that the yet-to-be-hired color commentators may get more air time in some games than play-by-play men Charley Steiner and Rick Monday. And, despite rumors to the contrary, Monday will do no color, "although that's probably what he's better suited for," according to Hoffarth.

Here's the breakdown, as Hoffarth sees it:

When Vin Scully is working a TV game:
TV play-by-play: Vin (entire game)
TV commentary: none
Radio play-by-play: Vin (innings 1-3), Steiner or Monday (innings 4-6), Steiner or Monday (innings 7-9)
Radio commentary: none (innings 1-3), one analyst, "probably" Al Downing (innings 4-9)

When Vin is not working, Steiner and Monday will alternate between radio and television for play-by-play, but the individual color commentators will stay on either television or radio throughout the game. Downing, if hired, would do radio only.

The current leading candidate for TV commentary when Vin doesn't work is somewhat astonishing. From Hoffarth's column last week:

After a merry-go-round search to find a credible former Dodgers player who could serve as a TV analyst willing to work 50-odd road games a season, several sources indicate the Dodgers appear ready to give up and hand the job over to Steve Lyons, who has been doing Fox national and regional games for the past few years as well as TV for the Arizona Diamondbacks. Lyons has no connection to the team either as a player or broadcaster, except for the fact he was suspended by Fox last season after insensitive comments he made concerning Shawn Green sitting out a game in October in observance of Yom Kippur. Lyons also has a pending sexual assault and battery charge case coming up next month in L.A. Superior Court from a woman who filed a suit after an incident in Maui in 2002. If the Dodgers do use Lyons, sources say it will have to be for more than the $1,000 a game that the team was reportedly trying to pay someone like Steve Sax or Eric Karros.

Does any of this make sense?

Five people will work behind the Dodger microphone in 2005. It's not quite this simple or direct, but it may tickle some of you to note that it will have taken three people to replace Ross Porter.

"Pull up a chair," Vin Scully would say. Rich Lederer of Rich's Weekend Baseball BEAT, the son of a Long Beach Press-Telegram (among other places) sportswriter, tells some great stories this rainy-day morning about his contemporary, star pitcher Bert Blyleven.

Just for starters, we learn that the Holland-born but Garden Grove-raised Blyleven delivered the newspapers Lederer's father, George, was writing for. Soon after, Lederer tells the story of the time, fresh out of high school, he umpired a scout league game Blyleven pitched.

Dressed in my umpire’s attire (including an old-style balloon chest protector just like the A.L. umps of that day), I watched Blyleven toss his seven or so warm-up pitches before taking my position behind the catcher, gently bending my knees as the lead-off batter stepped into the batter’s box. The tall right-hander took his sign, went into his windup, and threw the most hellacious curve I had ever seen. The ball started chin high, and it broke sharply downward, crossing the plate just above the batter’s knees.

It was my turn to let out the big “steee-rike” call. Instead, I froze. Even though I had mentally prepared myself for Bert’s wicked hook, I had never seen one quite like that up close. I knew it was a strike. Everybody in the ballpark knew it was a strike. However, by the time I had processed the pitch in my mind, it was too late. I hadn’t said anything, and I hadn’t signaled a strike with my right hand.

A home plate umpire has a split-second to call a pitch a strike or a ball. In the vernacular of baseball, a pitch is a ball unless called a strike. As such, my no call meant the pitch was a ball. I looked out to the mound, and I see Bert standing there with his hands on his hips, wondering if I was ever going to pull the trigger. After a few seconds, his astonishment turned into a head shake and a chuckle.

Lederer then takes us through the highlights of Blyleven's entire career. Get to know this should-be-Hall of Famer in a way you haven't before.

Three-fifths of the 2004 Dodger starting rotation, covered in one night ...

From the Isn't Free Agency Confusing to Everyone Department:

Odalis Perez is under the impression the Mets need a starting pitcher and that he will meet with general manager Omar Minaya to discuss a contract this week. Neither is true.

"My agent, Fernando Cuza, informed me that Minaya is coming to the Dominican Republic to talk to me personally. ... I'm excited about the possibility of joining Pedro Martinez in the Mets' rotation," Perez told The Associated Press yesterday.

But Mets officials said Minaya has no plans to visit the Dominican this week and the team is not interested in Perez. The Mets have their rotation in place with Tom Glavine, Kris Benson, Victor Zambrano and Steve Trachsel behind Martinez.

- Peter Abraham, The Journal News (N.Y.)

Peter Botte of the New York Daily News does console Perez with the knowledge that this could change, that the Mets could still come a callin' while entertaining the thought of trading Trachsel to the Dodgers.

Trachsel, oft-considered The Slowest Working Man in Show Biz based on the amount of time he takes between pitches - a Human Rain Delay for the 21st century - nevertheless has rehabilitated his career from a mid-run dip to post three consecutive above-average seasons: 3.91 (116 ERA+), 4.24 (112 ERA+), 4.27 (107 ERA+). On the down side, Trachsel is already 34, will make roughly as much money in 2005 as Perez will (they made the same $5 million salary in 2004) and has a strikeout rate lower than Perez.

You can't stand to look at him, can you? You see Kazuhisa Ishii the way the Omegas saw John Blutarsky, don't you?

Of course, that's Senator Blutarsky to you, pal.

No Dodger pitcher has confounded in the past three years the way Ishii has - check out the Dodger Thoughts archives for evidence.

April 9, 2003: Kazuhisa Ishii pitches like my childhood bedroom looked ... a slopfest on the mound - pitches strewn about everywhere like clothes and toys all over the floor.

April 17, 2003: I worry about losing my credibility.

When a pitcher throws seven shutout innings, allowing three hits and three walks, I should be able to praise him, shouldn’t I?

How can I defend .204-hitting Adrian Beltre one day, and in the same week, still raise questions about Kazuhisa Ishii after Wednesday night’s winning performance?

May 9, 2003: Kazuhisa Ishii, who I have said should go to the bullpen, pitched six innings of one-run ball Thursday and lowered his ERA to 2.95.

But the rest of the world has caught up with deconstructing Ishii. Whereas in 2003 I wrote that "no one seemed to notice that his ERA was high despite a winning record," now that's all people notice.

In the meantime, what they're missing is, however inconsistent, a pitcher who more than occasionally embarasses the opposing lineup.

It's not just that Ishii produced 16 quality starts in 31 games last season. Quality starts are overrated. Particularly in the context of Dodger Stadium, at least through 2004, allowing three runs in six innings - a 4.50 ERA - is not all that impressive.

Here's a game-by-game review of Ishii's 2004 performance. Note not only the quality starts, but the fact that he pitched 13 games (in bold below) in which he allowed two runs or fewer in six innings or more.

IP  ER
6.0  1  April
6.2  4
4.0  7
9.0  0
6.0  2 
6.2  2  May
4.0  2
6.1  3
4.2  2
6.0  0
5.0  3  June
8.0  1
6.0  3
5.0  5
6.0  3
3.0  7  July
9.0  0
6.0  2
3.1  6
4.0  6
6.1  1
2.0  5  August
7.0  2
4.0  5
7.1  2
6.0  1
5.2  3  September
2.1  4
4.2  4
7.0  1
5.0  3  October

How many games of six innings/two runs did free agent prize Matt Clement have last season? Twelve. (Odalis Perez, by the way, had 18.)

The key to Ishii is that despite his corpulent walk totals - 305 in three seasons - opponents punish him about as effectively as Greg Marmalard and Doug Neidermeyer would. In 2004, Ishii allowed a slugging percentage of .414 - 24th-best in the National League. In previous seasons, Ishii's opponents' slugging percentage was even lower: .384 in 2002, .394 in 2003.

The disturbing trends with Ishii are not only that the slugging is on a slight rise, but that his strikeout rate went on double secret probation in 2004. After averaging more than eight strikeouts per nine innings from 2002-03, Ishii fell to 5.2 strikeouts per nine innings this past season.

Oh, and not coincidentally, there were the 10 games last season that Ishii put the bullpen through a workout by not making it out of the fifth inning. Sometimes, it does help to sit through an entire class.

I saw Animal House probably 30 times before my 13th birthday - there was a stretch when I was watching it on a daily basis when I got home from school. I can't say I have the same desire to see Ishii that many times before my 38th birthday next November.

Nevertheless, those who think Ishii should be expelled without remorse are mistaken. There are certainly several baseball teams out there who don't have five better starting pitchers than the Dodgers' Delta House mascot. He's overpaid for his current performance, but there's a whole fraternity of folks like that.

Just because Ishii isn't great, or even average, doesn't mean we should ignore what value he does retain.

If you're one of the people sitting around why the Dodgers didn't sign Jose Lima for one season at $2.5 million, the way the Royals did, understand that it just wasn't possible.

In all likelihood, Lima would not have settled for that amount before the deadline for teams to offer players salary arbitration.

And, had the Dodgers offered Lima arbitration, we now know he would have accepted, based on the idea that the $2.5 million deal was his best offer.

And, had Lima accepted, they would be paying Lima more than $2.5 million for 2005 today.

As recently as 2002, Lima was making more than $7 million in a year. In 2004, he made $950,000. Arbitration raises for 14-game winners (including the playoffs) tend to be considerable. Had Lima gone to arbitration, you can easily imagine he would have ended up at a salary higher than $2.5 million.

Now, feel free to argue the merits of offering Lima more money or years to retain him. Personally, I'd have been wary, though personally, I'm now wary of the Dodgers' 2005 work-in-progress starting pitching in general.

But you cannot conclude at all that the Dodgers weren't willing to offer Lima what Kansas City did.

It is a peculiarity of the current system that arbitration-eligible players are encouraged to leave their most recent teams. Last week, 29 teams could have offered Lima a one-year, $2.5-million contract. The only team that couldn't was the team with which his rebirth continued - the Dodgers.

Watch something similar happen with Alex Cora - he may well sign a contract within the Dodgers' price range, but below the minimum the Dodgers could have expected to pay through arbitration.

Missed you all ... good to be back. Hope many of you are getting as many days off as possible to enjoy this week - and thanks for responding so positively to my most recent message.

Oh - and about the double-posting problem - we've tried to solve it, and we are working on improvements to the site. In the meantime, know that the first time you post, it usually goes through even if you get an "internal server error" message.

As a precaution, I suggest that just before you post, copy the entire text of your message to your clipboard (control-A, control-C or apple-A, apple-C for example) and hang onto it to see if your post registers. Sometimes, it doesn't happen until the next person after you posts a comment. Sorry for the frustration!

All posting comments to this website, please read carefully.

Folks, I'm going to take one more concentrated family break before the year's out. I'll be back by next week. Please feel free to continue the discussion.

It's a great thing that we can all come together here. The comments on this board h