Love them or hate them, the Los Angeles Dodgers are one of the most important and historic teams in baseball.

You can go back to Jackie Robinson breaking the color barrier or Sandy Koufax dominating the game.

The all time infield of Garvey, Lopes, Cey, and Russell will go down as one of the greatest in history. For the rest of baseball eternity, Kirk Gibson’s magical home run will be shown. And of course the best broadcaster in the history of sports, Vin Scully, has worked for the Dodgers longer than most people reading this have been on the planet.

But those are not the Dodgers I knew and grew up rooting for.

The Dodgers I knew lost the values of the franchise when Peter O’ Malley sold the team to Fox, a corporation interested in profits alone.

I went to Dodger Stadium and watched them lose even though expectations remained high. I sat at home and cried with everyone else when they traded away Mike Piazza. I watched LA sign a roid raging Kevin Brown to a ridiculous contract. I witnessed on field meltdowns and a championship from the Diamondbacks who had just entered the damn league.

The Dodgers I knew were not the Dodgers of Duke Snider and Willie Davis, but the team that traded away Pedro Martinez. There were great moments, don’t get me wrong. Shawn Green seemed like a savior, but ran out of gas quickly. Eric Gagne electrified the city like no other, but his performance was a lie.

The list goes on and the message is the same: I did not know what it was like to be a fan of a winning Dodgers franchise.

A History Reborn

Then Frank McCourt bought the team. There was panic in the media because he had to use some swift thinking and loans to purchase the jewel franchise of the National League. However, I thought to myself, if Bud Selig says it’s ok, then we should give the guy a chance.

And then something miraculous happened. The Dodgers won. It may seem insignificant – a single playoff victory – but it was so much more then that.

I remember the game vividly. LA was on the verge of being swept by the Cardinals, who had absolutely dominated the Dodgers in the playoffs since the dawn of time. Out of the shadows came Jose Lima, a man on a mission who soaked up every cheer from a stadium filled with close to 60,000 screaming Angelenos. When he came out for the 9th inning, fist in the air, minutes away from completing a shutout, I wanted to cry.

In fact, I was so excited that my constant jumping up and down on the stadium seat snapped the chair right through. No joke, I broke a seat because I was so excited. The game would be the only victory as St. Louis moved on, but it was a symbol: The Dodgers won a playoff game for the first time since 1988.

Los Angeles made it back to the playoffs in 06’ only to get swept, but then made a triumphant march to the NLCS in 2008 and 2009.

Losing to the Phillies in such heartbreaking fashion is something I will not soon forget. There were positives though, and one was that the team was succeeding like it never had in my lifetime – and they were doing it under Frank McCourt.

How could I complain? Matt Kemp, Andre Ethier, Clayton Kershaw, and Jonathan Broxton were budding stars and Frank had spent big money to bring in and keep Manny Ramirez in Los Angeles.

It seems easy to dismiss now with revelations about Manny’s steroid use, but it was the biggest move the Dodgers had made since I fell in love with the team. There was no reason to doubt that McCourt had proven himself worthy and his name would be attached to the Dodgers for years with championships and parades to follow.

How quickly things change.

Dodger Blue Flames

I wish I could go back in time and tell myself to temper expectations. If only I had known that the extra championship piece the Dodgers needed could have been easily attained if Frank and Jamie had one mansion instead of seven, or if they did not spend six figures on haircuts and paychecks to sons who did nothing.

The Dodgers did not need a psychic on the other side of the world sending good vibes for absurd salaries. They needed CC Sabathia.

When word came of the imminent divorce between the McCourts, I defended Frank. His public relations team painted the picture beautifully. A hard working father trying to build a winner for the city he had adopted while his cheating wife went off to Europe with a chauffeur, all on the company dime. I worried she would try to snatch away the team and destroy all the good that Frank had done.

I feel like a sap. I feel betrayed. Now Dodger fans go to bed at night praying a judge finds that Jamie McCourt rightfully owns half the team. If Frank is said to solely own the Dodgers a legal battle with baseball of historic proportions will unfold.

McCourt’s lawyers will force every team to publicly show their financial records. This will surely reveal that franchises like the Pirates and Marlins pocket more money then they should. 

A domino effect could occur. Players will realize they’re not getting a fair piece of the pie and all of a sudden, discussion on realignment heading the next collective bargaining agreement could turn into arguments about money.

Who knows where it goes from there. A strike or lockout seems to be the trend in sports these days.

McCourt will eventually lose the Dodgers. He can play his legal games and say that even if forced to sell the team, he will keep the parking lots and stadium because he has divided the Dodgers into endless different financial entities. It won’t hold up, but it will be a long and arduous process. A legal battle of this magnitude could have untold effects on every team and the MLB as a whole.

It is a sad site to see my second home these days. Dodger Stadium is a paradise that once would draw 40,000 fans for a team that was in fourth place. The perfectly cut grass, symmetrical dimensions, and surrounding area is Walter O’ Malley’s dream come to life. Palm trees float behind the stadium walls as you gaze into the blissful night where the mountains seem endless.

I was fooled by success. I was tricked into thinking Frank McCourt cared about winning and the Dodgers.

I was deceived into believing McCourt cared about me and my brethren. And now it is war, Frank. The fans are fighting back.

Larger Implications

Attendance numbers were drastically down in the first part of the MLB season mainly due to the emptiness that has become Dodger Stadium.

Why fight so hard for a city that hates you and a fan base that refuses to support you? You’re family is ruined and you are facing so many lawsuits that you have a suit against your lawyers. Now, you are threatening to take on Bud Selig and baseball despite agreeing to never sue them. You have no money and have lost all respect. You have hit rock bottom.

The only thing driving you is an all consuming ego that has created a monster, where the few friends you have probably do not recognize the man you have become.

The least you can do Frank, is cut the rope that bounds Dodger fans to you. Don’t pull us down into the abyss, we don’t deserve it.