it would be, it would be so nice

October 9, 2009

Seriously I hope the music person at Dodger Stadium was on the ball (ahem) last night. Or at least played “Loretta” by the Nervous Eaters. Or, in honor of the game-winning hit, “Fist City” by Loretta Lynn. And I know I broke up with the Dodgers a decade ago, but this was just an amazing end to a game I wasn’t paying attention to at all until I saw the score in the eighth inning at the gym.

Ho hum series tied WAIT WHAAAAAAAATholliday

Since about June or so I’ve forgotten how wonderful baseball can be. Amazing how that realization is easy to come by when you’re watching two good teams battling it out.

Despite my defection (you can’t spell it without “defect”) to the Mets, as a native Los Angeleno I am hoping for a Freeway Series. In which case I’ll be rooting for the Angels, because I haven’t forgiven the Dodgers that much.

Otherwise, let’s go Twins and Rockies.

ETA: I didn’t hear this, but apparently Vin Scully said, “Matt Holliday is the loneliest man in all of Los Angeles as 51000 echo to the sky.” I miss that man.


an open letter to the los angeles dodgers

October 16, 2008

Dear Los Angeles Dodgers,

I write to you in a state of disrepair (much like your bullpen in Game 4 of the NLCS! Lolz!). Throughout this postseason I have vacillated from disappointment to envy, disillusionment to schadenfraude, dismissal to–finally–vague interest.

Last year this was not the case. Last year, after I coaxed myself out of numbness following the Mets Collapse™, I managed to be brought along for the October fun by the Jesus Rockies and Eye Candy Sizemore and all those goddam Red Sox fans I know. This year has seemed futile except for Tampa Bay (and I await AndyMarkyMikeyJohnnySully’s FAAACKKKK YOOO. GO SAHX!) and, lo(l) the ever-underwhelming Cubs. But I wasn’t that invested with their fates.

The one common thread between this October and last: searing hatred of the Phillies.

Now Dodgers, you know how I feel about you. You know that I was in love you, prepared to give you my life, but you went and betrayed me during a period that should have solidified our coupling. You gave me Kirk Gibson hobbling around the bases. You gave me Hideo Nomo (the thing eventually broke down and nearly set the house on fire but it was lovely for a while). You gave me Mike Piazza, and then you took it away. This to me, as a hormonally unbalanced teenager, seemed like the ultimate betrayal. So I left you for the Mets. And though they may treat me badly, like I’m Meredith Baxter Birney in a Lifetime movie, I don’t feel betrayed by them. Beaten, abused, unsatisfied, unfulfilled, sure. But never betrayed.

You had the opportunity to do something good for me just this once, to–if not win back my love–earn my respect. And you let those clowns from Philadelphia just walk all over you. You were never a stand-up guy, Dodgers. It’s funny to think about it ten years later, but I knew that walking out on you was the best decision I could’ve made. I knew that the feverish passion I had for you was a product of my youth, of timing. I knew it would dissipate. Because I knew in the end you wouldn’t give a damn anyway.

Perhaps I should thank you for ten years ago. For instigating my shifting of loyalties. Because man, I may be disappointed, but at last I’m not the one who has to look at you right now: sitting there on the couch, belly hanging over your belt, dozing off with a beer in one hand as cheesesteaks rain on your fat head.

Thanks for nothing,

-Your Crazy Ex-Girlfriend


this is getting old

May 7, 2008

And so am I, as I celebrated my birthday over the weekend–the Mets lost, but they bookended it with two wins in Arizona, so I felt like that was good enough. What isn’t good enough, however, is how they have been playing in Los Angeles. Now, my plan this year was to be in L.A. this week so that I could see the Mets play at Chavez Ravine, where I have not been since I was 14. Due to monetary issues that didn’t happen, but I guess there’s a silver lining here because it means that I’ve been spared witnessing the debacles of the last two nights.

So, Oliver Perez may be looking for a five-year, $60 million contract? Excuse me while I LOfuckingL. Hey Ollie, maybe you could work on making it out of the sixth once in a while first? Sad thing is, he’ll probably get it.

Of all the unbelievable things about last night, I’m not sure which one is the most mind-boggling:

  • Moises Alou stealing home. Really? WHAT?!?!? Yes.
  • The Mets having bases loaded with no outs in the second and not scoring another run. On second thought, this one is all too believable. Especially considering Ryan Church hit into a 1-2-3 double play. “1 2 3.” Estefan strikes again!!!!!!
  • Yet another bafflingly dominant performance by Hong-Chi Kuo. This one reeks of déjà vu. But hey, at least he didn’t homer this time.

So the best we can hope for is a .500 performance on this road trip that started so well. Sorry to say, but that seems like the MO of the 2008 Mets.


ESCAPE FROM L.A.

June 13, 2007

“Boy do we stink right now.”

So the Mets are playing really appallingly lousy baseball right now. I almost can’t believe how awful they’ve been since June. Basically, they’ve been playing loser-ball since I won my bet with Stan. Who am I, Pete Rose? Dear Mets: I will never place another bet on you if you agree to start winning in your early season ho-hum fashion again. I’d much rather have that than any free meal.

I was feeling pretty okay with their performance in Detroit up until the final game. Sosa was brilliant in the first game, and even the following 8-7 loss had some upswings (at least they were hitting the goddam ball!) even if it had some depressing lowlights (the re-appearance of shaky Ollie, Guillermo Mota’s complete breakdown, Carlos Delgado grounding out with the bases loaded AND THEN ending the game with the exact same groundout with the tying run on first). And then Glavine got knocked around and that was that.

What rubs more salt in this ever-deepening wound is the fact that the Mets are now being dismantled by the Dodgers. I grew up in L.A., so of course grew up a Dodger fan (Kirk Gibson, ’88 World Series, need I say more? Shit like that is why we love sports). But they became basically dead to me when they traded my beloved Mike Piazza (one of the worst, most ill-informed trades ever, but I have a tendency to be melodramatic). Now I’m not even sure I can name more than two players on the team, unless Hideo Nomo is still around? (LOLOLOL I make joke) Having my former favorite team beat up on my current favorite team is kind of like having the boy you used to like (and who treated you like shit) say mean stuff about the boy you’re currently interested in. This happened a week ago. It sucked.

It’s like some Lynchian nightmare, what’s happening right now. Though Maine gave up three consecutive homers last night, basically ensuring the loss, I don’t think the Mets have been pitching all that badly, the last two Detroit games notwithstanding. The problem really has been their offense. It almost feels like everyone has gone to sleep, with the exception of David Wright (14-game hit streak, which included a four-game home run streak, and career hit #500 last night). They’re stranding about a million people on base. It is just brutal to watch.

Hong-Chih Kuo? Really? You couldn’t hit off of Hong-Chih Kuo? And he hit a home run? This is the worst L.A. nightmare since Crash.

But hey, at least Canter’s gave some delicious food to former Dodgers Shawn Green and Paul Lo Duca. L.A. has a bad rep, I know, but I love it in the same way you love your crazy uncle, and if you did right by us once, we’ll always welcome you back.

But Jesus, get the hell out of there already. Jorge Sosa pitches tonight, so let’s hope he can perform the way he has this season (which is to say: surprisingly fantastic). Then we have another subway series with the Yanks. Who are, uh, on a seven-game winning streak. Boy, have the tables turned since last month.


congrats, anaheim

June 7, 2007

Now that’s what a hockey town looks like! I guess?

Dear Anaheim,

You must be excited that your Ducks have FINALLY won that long-elusive Stanley Cup. I can only imagine lots of dancing down Ball Road, or maybe everyone stopping their cars on the 57 and re-enacting “Everybody Hurts,” except in your town, Everybody Wins! Let’s go to the Block!

It’s great that there’s a sporting team that can, in response to the question “You just blahblahblah, what are you gonna do next?” say “I’m going to Disneyland!” instead of the glitzier Disneyworld, cos at least they live near it. Who wants to go to Florida? Nah, I’ll head down to Disneyland Drive again. I mean BASICALLY it’s the backyard.

Be thankful that you also have an Anaheim sporting team that EMBRACES it’s Anaheimness, unlike your previous champions the Angels. Pfffft. One World Series and they think they’re better than you. Oh yeah, that’s a nice ring, Angels. Oh, you think that bitch L.A. is gonna give you everything you ever wanted? Another house? More rings? You motherfucker. We stuck with you for so long and now you wanna leave? Change your identity? We’ll NEVER let you forget where you came from. “OF ANAHEIM.” Yeah, take that Angels. You look foolish now and your name sucks, you displaced confused jerk. Now we’ve got a team that is fine with letting the world know they’re OC boys. Named after a Disney movie fer Chrissake!

What’s that? They dropped the “Mighty”? You mean they stopped using this awesome logo?

Why must everyone here be ashamed?!?!?! WOE IS ANAHEIM.

xoxoxox,

a former resident (actually I was born in Hollywood and was raised in Culver City but I spent a few months there when I was a kid!)