This will be less about analyzing plays and games of the World Series (there are a thousand articles and talk shows for that) and more about my disappointment with my boyhood team. And I offer this as hopefully constructive criticism because I love this franchise and it breaks my heart to see what its become.
I attended the Saturday night game. That’s the one where they blew a 4-run lead with three innings to go. I’ve probably been to six or seven World Series games at Dodger Stadium. This one was different. I was at the famous Kirk Gibson home run game. Everyone stood on their chairs and cheered and screamed for at least fifteen minutes (and I’m not exaggerating). There was a real love affair between this town and this franchise. These were our “guys,” whether they were Orel Hershiser or Sandy Koufax or Fernando Valenzuela or Mickey Hatcher. You invested your emotions in them because they were YOUR Dodgers. You didn’t worry that Sandy Koufax had an opt-out in his contract.
Sitting in the stands, the same stands I’ve sat in since I was a kid, I felt a real disconnect to these Dodgers. These weren’t my “guys” – these were pawns management was putting out there on this particular night. Analytics have taken over Major League Baseball. And no team tries so hard to crunch numbers to get an advantage than the Dodgers. Their top management team is a collection of Wile E. Coyotes who clearly believe they’re smarter than everyone else. There is so much maneuvering during the season it’s ridiculous. Hardly a day goes by when they don’t change the roster. The message is clear to the players: “we have a game plan and the minute you don’t fit it you’re gone. Oh, and we change the game plan at our prerogative.”
How can you ask players to give their hearts and souls to an organization that does that? The answer of course is that the players don’t; not really. Yes, they want to succeed, they want their numbers to go up (so they can make more money), and they have pride so they want to win, but that’s for them, not for the Dodgers, not for the community, and not for the fans. Under the circumstances I can’t blame the players.
Analytics are fine but these are human beings. They have emotions. They’re not just pawns. Win or you’re fired is not a real incentive. Some things analytics can’t measure so they dismiss as non-factors. Things like team chemistry. I’ve been around Major League Baseball long enough to know that team chemistry does matter. How many assholes on the club matter. How good is the food on the plane matters.
Ownership groups are hiring young managers, some with no managerial experience because they “relate better to the players” and embrace analytics. In many cases the real reason is they’ll agree to be puppets for upper management who will make all their decisions for them.
In 2014 the Dodgers made a deal with Time-Warner Cable for $8.35 billion for their television rights for 25 years. Time-Warner figured they could strong arm other cable companies and satellite services into paying big bucks to carry the Dodgers. They all rightfully said, fuck you.
Five years into the deal and 70% of the Southern California market can’t watch Dodger games. For the first few years fans were denied Vin Scully’s final seasons. What message does THAT send to the fans?
Then Scully retired and the 70% who can only follow the games on radio are saddled with a announcer who makes chronic whopper mistakes, has trouble seeing, doesn’t know the finer points of the game, and has the world’s most inflated opinion of himself. The ratings are a 1.0 share, even with championship teams – so what message does that send? For a team where its greatest asset for 67 years was its announcer, you’d think they’d realize the value of a good announcer and find someone better than Charley Steiner. They don’t care. Screw the fans. Again, if he got big numbers the Dodgers would have every right to say, “he’s very popular, you just don’t like him, that’s too bad.” But a 1.0 share when there are no other options. That’s flat out appalling.
This World Series game is the first time I attended Dodger Stadium this year. For eight years I hosted Dodger Talk, ending in 2010, so I went to every game. Saturday was quite an eye-opening experience. First off, they charged $60 for parking. Then they directed you to the farthest reaches of the stadium, a million miles from your seat. When Walter O’Malley designed Dodger Stadium on levels it was so you could park close to your seat. The new ownership group doesn’t give a shit where your seats are. Roads are blocked off and the motorist has no choice but to park where they tell hin. And getting out is an absolute nightmare. Cars all jockey for position trying to wedge into a few lanes. Instead of having parking attendants direct traffic and keep the flow moving they literally just stand there. It can easily take over an hour to get out of the parking lot. And once you are out you’re fed into the exit they select. Too bad if you live in Long Beach because depending on where your car is you’re fed into the exit that leads to the San Fernando Valley.
The stadium opened in 1962. You think they could have figured out the fucking parking by now.
I went to the concession stand for some food. A Coke cost $9. I said that was outrageous. The disinterested clerk just shrugged and said, “It’s the World Series.” Oh… so it’s okay to just jack up the prices? THAT promotes good will.
Originally the exterior of the stadium was designed with planters featuring flowers throughout the park. Now those planters looked dingy, unkempt, and just a collection of weeds. The seats are faded and in desperate need of a paint job. The great thing about Dodger Stadium was that, like Disneyland, it always looked brand new. Not anymore. It shows its age and then some.
I can’t stress enough that all of this pains me greatly. I love the Dodgers. I worked for the Dodgers. My greatest achievement in broadcasting was one day when I got to call the play-by-play alongside Vin Scully on a Dodger game. Dodger Stadium was mecca. As a kid I’d fall asleep with my ear to a transistor radio listening to a Dodger game. One day on MASH we were watching a Dodger playoff game and Mel Brooks came into the office. Usually that was a major treat because he is even funnier in person. But after a few minutes we gently ushered him out because we were watching the game. I went to downtown Dodger parades. I almost got the shit beaten out of me because I wore a Dodger cap at a Giants game at Candlestick Park in 1974. My son’s Bar Mitzvah party was at Dodger Stadium. I made Dodger Stadium sand castles when I was a kid. I begged my parents to take me to Vegas to see Maury Wills sing (they wisely said no). I would listen to games on the radio and keep score. I made a pilgrimage to Dodger Town in Vero Beach, Florida. I keep Sandy Koufax’s autograph in my wallet. So when I point out the ways in which I believe the organization is letting down the fans and not putting out the best product it can, it is with the sincere hope that they can restore the love and commitment we had for them. And they won’t have to win the World Series to win our hearts: we’ll once again be TRUE blue.
from By Ken Levine
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