Ha, I got the last laugh - the Dodgers missed the playoffs last season. Originally posted on 8/9/06:
If you've seen my MySpace profile, you can probably guess what my favorite sport is. Someday I'll write a long article about why I love the game so much, but today is not that day. I just wanted to relay a little humorous altercation I had at Dodger Stadium last night that should explain why I'll never root for the team that plays there.
Even though I was raised in Los Angeles, I have always despised the Dodgers. Growing up in the 1970s, my favorite team was the Cincinnati Reds, and the Dodgers were their #1 rival. I was never well liked at Dodger games and considering how venomous my hatred was of their team, I couldn't blame their fans for throwing stuff at me. As time has gone by, the much-hated Tommy Lasorda left as manager, and it's been 18 years since their last World Series, so I've softened in my vitriolic behavior at their games. The other reason I hated the Dodgers is that I cant stand anything about their obnoxious stadium, from the fans to their overrated concessions to the no fun of any kind attitudes of their ushers and security people. Also, the Dodgers basically stole the Chavez Ravine area from its longtime Mexican residents in the 1950s via some evil political machinations, and I always feel bad when I drive around the stadium knowing this was the place where a thriving latino community once stood before the city of Los Angeles bulldozed it in the name of progress (check out the song, "3rd Base, Dodger Stadium" by Ry Cooder a cut from his recent masterpiece album Chavez Ravine for a poignant reminder of what once stood on the grounds of the stadium). Growing up, I could never understand Dodgers fans; they show up in the 3rd inning, leave after the 7th to beat the traffic, spend half the game doing the f-ing wave and playing with beach balls, and on average, show an almost unbelievable lack of knowledge of the game. I also hate the way they react excitedly to any ball that's hit in the air as if its got a chance to be a home run, from a weak popup to short to a foul ball down the 1st base line. There, I guess I made my point, eh?
As much as I hate the Dodgers, I go to a lot of games. My friend has killer season tickets, and i'ts always fun to root against the Dodgers and watch visiting teams and players that I admire. Anyway, last night, we went to the Rockies game, and it was an exciting one. The only thing that marred it was an annoyingly uptight foursome of Dodger fans who showed up during the 4th inning (what the fuck?!? why bother?) and sat right in front of us. The parents were in their late 40s/early 50s and the kids were late teens early 20s; I could tell the mother was a real flatliner, uptight librarian type who looked like she would much rather be at home watching the coverage of the Connecticut primary than being surrounded by obnoxious baseball fans. Now, I know I tend to be a little loud, as I have a mild hearing problem and don't always realize when I'm projecting my voice beyond a normal decibel level. This is especially true when I'm at a very loud PUBLIC SPORTING EVENT!!! Additionally, my two friends at the game are just plain loud talkers who have a tendency to uptalk (putting so much emphasis on the last syllable of a sentence that everything sounds like a question, similar to the way Australians do). Anyway, during the 8th inning, in the middle of a very exciting one-run game where a rally was being mounted by the Rockies, I was extremely perturbed that some idiot decided to break open their beach ball stash; numerous beach balls were flinging by my head and I almost got slammed in the face by someone who thought they were playing in an AVP event in Manhattan Beach. So, my buddies and I vowed to destroy the first ball that came our way, and when one did, Chris stepped on it so hard that it sounded like a gunshot when it popped. We laughed our asses off at all the pissed fans who had come to play beach ball and not focus on the game, and they started calling Chris "the ballkiller". He even took a curtain call, and it was pure theater for a moment.
So, while this is all going down, the uptight librarian witch in front of me turns around with a sour look on her face and says, You're very loud. Would you please be quiet? Incredulously, I asked her to repeat herself, because as I said, I'm a wee bit deaf. She repeated her admonition, and I honestly was so taken aback that I advised her that I was hard of hearing and that's why I project so much. She then made the mistake of saying, Well, I'm not and I'd appreciate it if youd be quiet. I couldn't hold back, so I said, "During the 8th inning of a fucking one-run baseball game?!?" (profanity added by me to emphasize how ridiculous the situation was). She continued to bitch about me to her family, so we decided to make the sensitive of hearing, Dodger-loving assholes miserable for the rest of the game. I spent the next half hour speaking at about 2x times my previous volume, booing and cheering like it was Game 7 of the World Series. My buddies were even more incessant in their auditory onslaught, clapping excessively, whistling, and screaming at the top of their lungs. When the game ended, they couldnt have run faster to escape the torture we were subjecting them to; I suppose the woman went home to her quiet room, took an Excedrin and popped in her earplugs. I hope the Chicago Cubs fan that ruined her evening by enjoying himself at a ballgame haunts her dreams for years to come.
Oh, and the fucking Dodgers won their 11th game in a row! There is no joy in Mudville and definitely no justice at Chavez Ravine!
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