Please indulge me for a moment while I tell you why my opinion matters. If you really don’t give a bulls’ crap just jump right to my report. Otherwise, read on. I love the Dodgers, plain and simple, though it might just be the result of fate though. See I was born in the winter of 1957 in Brooklyn. In the spring of 1958 my Dad conveniently got a job he couldn’t turn down in Los Angeles so we moved. I don’t remember much about the old neighborhood because I was raised in California, and that’s the typical recall potential of most 5-month olds. My brother had a few more borough memories, having been born in 1951…October 3, 1951. Uncle Louie said Dad was not happy about my brother peeking out of the birth canal on that day, until the day was over, after which he was happier to have spent it looking at what he hoped was a future dressed in blue starting shortstop instead of where he was planning on spending that day. He cried, right along with every other Dodgers fan was doing at the Polo Grounds at that exact same time, but for an entirely different reason. So like I said, I love the Dodgers. So much so, I’ve spent the better part of the past 35 years writing about them under various names for various publications. Now I find myself in El Paso, and thanks to 600 ESPN and this marvelous electronic age where games can even be seen on my phone, I can do some regular writings while enjoying cheaper beers, even if they come sans Dodger-dog. Plus after the last few seasons I’ve accepted the fact that more beer can sometimes make this team look even better thanks to alcohol induced memory loss. Yes, I’m a serious writer, just not taking my literary contributions as serious as I once did. Plus, having only been here a short time, I’ve learned to love El Paso’s tendency to involve a good cold cerveza with any recreational function or between occupational duties. The only thing I don’t like about El Paso is all the damn Yankees hats. I don’t know what’s with these kids who wear their hip-hop style Baseball cap as a statement. Putting any team’s logo on your head should be about passion, not fashion. Besides, what kind of real fan would ever wear a RED Yankees cap?!? In my 35+ years of covering Baseball I don’t ever remember seeing one Baseball card documenting a game-used variation of red. You might as well replace those pin stripes with polka dots, same credibility. So there you have my back-story…fated fan, writer because it beats lying in the gutter with a bottle in my hand, and now an El Pasoan. Hopefully I will give you some insight into the team I love as the season unfolds. I would like nothing more than to take a thrilling 6-month joy ride together, one that ends with a real ride along westbound I10 because there’s nothing better than being at Dodger Stadium in October. Just ask Kirk Gibson.* *Game 1 of the 1988 World Series took place in Los Angeles on October 15. Gibson’s 2 out, 2 run pinch-hit homer in the 9th was his only plate Series appearance.
