VINSANITY!

I do a lot of reading.

Usually on my iPhone.

140 characters here.

140 characters there.

It keeps me quite busy.

But there’s nothing quite like the ink of a newspaper.

Or the staples in a magazine.

I subscribe to a bunch of publications.

I just don’t read them.

Well I don’t read them right away.

But eventually I will.

I get Sports Illustrated.

And Rolling Stone.

Sporting News.

And Entertainment Weekly.

ESPN the Magazine.

And... I’m sure there are others.

But they end up stacking up.

Way up.

Until I take a trip somewhere.

Then I read them all at once on the plane.

At least I look at the pictures.

Sometimes the news can get a little old.

But if a tree falls in the forest and nobody reads it.

Is it really old news? 

I just heard that Ella Fitzgerald died.

In 1996.

So sad.

What a voice.

A few days ago I picked up a copy of Sports Illustrated.

From August.

As I was perusing through the photos, there was this one story that grabbed my attention.

By the throat.

It was about the Los Angeles Dodgers.

And their poor excuse for an owner, Frank McCourt.

Apparently McCourt wanted a little help evaluating the broadcast team for his baseball team.

So he reached out to his season ticket holders to get their feedback.

You know, the people who come in the third inning.

And leave in the seventh.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m ok with feedback.

I used to get reviewed every year.

But there are some things you just don’t do.

You don’t tug on Superman’s cape.

You don’t spit into the wind.

You don’t pull the mask off the ol’ Lone Ranger.

And you don’t mess around with Vin.

Vincent Edward Scully.

Born this day.

84 years ago.

You may know him better as just Vin.

Well Mr. McCourt apparently thought it was time to put Vin Scully and his microphone under the microscope.

Vote two thumbs for yes and one for no?

I got a finger for you Frankie Boy.

Vin Scully has been the Dodgers announcer for the last 62 years.

Frank McCourt has been on this planet for just 58.

Vin Scully has been named the California SportsCaster of the Year.

29 times!

Frank McCourt has lived in the Golden State for just seven.

Of all the people in the world who needed to be evaluated.

Vin was not one.

McCourt on the other hand.

He should be committed.

Vin Scully is more than just a broadcaster.

He is an artist.

A painter.

He paints words with his mouth.

His voice is more soothing than a Ludens Cough Drop.

Vin Scully is the best voice to ever come out of my car speaker.

Sorry Adele.

There’s no one I’d rather spend the top of the fifth with than Vin Scully.

Or the 6th.

Or the 4th.

Vin Scully is the best storyteller this side of Mr. Rogers.

Sure he slips up from time to time.

These days.

Who wouldn’t.

Vin is aged.

Like an Italian Winery.

He got a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame when it was a cobblestone street.

Sure, if you are paying extra close attention, you might get a Luis Pujols.

Even though we all know its Albert.

Or maybe you’ll hear the same story twice.

In the same inning.

Or if you are really lucky, he might call Farmer John.

Farmer Jim.

But give the guy a mulligan.

He’s older than the dirt in the Dodger Stadium infield.

He’s broadcast like 50,000 games or something like that.

And that’s just baseball.

The Catch by Dwight Clark in 1982.

Vin Scully.

PGA Golf.

Vin Scully.

He hosted The Masters eight times.

But let’s not kid ourselves.

Vin Scully = Baseball.

Dodgers Baseball.

In the fall of 1988, Vin was working for NBC.

It just so happened that the Dodgers were playing in the World Series.

And with all due to respect to the late great Jack Buck.

It was Vin who immortalized the greatest home run in baseball history.

(Ok, the greatest home run in my baseball history.)

October 15, 1988.

Two words.

Kirk Gibson.

"High fly ball into right field, she i-i-i-is... gone!!

(67 Seconds of Crowd Cheering)

"In a year that has been so improbable... the impossible has happened!

"And, now, the only question was, could he make it around the base paths unassisted?!

"You know, I said it once before, a few days ago, that Kirk Gibson was not the Most Valuable Player; that the Most Valuable Player for the Dodgers was Tinkerbell. 

But, tonight, I think Tinkerbell backed off for Kirk Gibson. 

And, look at Eckersley—shocked to his toes!

"They are going wild at Dodger Stadium—no one wants to leave!"

And no one wants you to leave.

Happy Birthday Mr. Scully.

McCourt Jester

I have this.... friend.

Let’s call him.... Erik.

Well “Erik” is a huge sports fan.

Just like me.

That’s probably why we became friends.

22 years ago.

And like most sports fans, we are passionate.

And loyal.

Even if we root for different teams.

He loves the Broncos.

I die hard with the Raiders.

And Erik is never short on an opinion.

He’s got plenty of voice.

And he’s not afraid to use it.

There is rarely a week that goes by that Erik doesn’t submit a letter to the sports editor at the LA Times.

And the topics of his ire are limited to nothing.

The Lakers.

The NHL.

The Super Bowl.

But perhaps his number one target the last few years has been the demise of his beloved Dodgers.

More specifically Frank McCourt.

The embattled owner of the team.

Long story short....  Frank McCourt owned a valuable parking lot in Boston.

He tried to buy the Red Sox.

But couldn’t.

So he took his quarters out to L.A. in 2004.

And bought the Dodgers for $430 million dollars.

Most of it in tattered pages of I.O.U.‘s.

Well about two months ago McCourt was on the radio in LA discussing his team.

And his problems.

That’s when they decided to take some calls.

Line 1, Erik from Fountain Valley.

Now I consider Erik one of my closest friends.

Heck, we’ve been co-owners of a Fantasy Football team for 19 years.

4-Time Champion I may add.

Now even though Erik and I are close, we are very different.

I have a filter.

Sometimes.

Erik... not so much.

If he thinks something.

He says something.

No filter.

Well that day on the radio, Erik told McCourt:

“I hate that you are the owner of the Dodgers and I won’t go to another game until you leave.”

The conversation went on for several minutes.

And neither side really backed down.

Although Frank tried his best to be warm.

Or fuzzy.

When it ended, McCourt said that Erik “really struck a nerve and that he would like to reach out to him.”

Two days ago at 4:31pm Pacific Time, Erik’s phone rang.

“Erik, this is Frank McCourt.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you.”

For the first time in his life, Erik was speechless.

They spoke for nearly 50 minutes.

49 minutes and four seconds.

To be exact.

Erik knows his stats.

Let me get this straight.

In the middle of his messy divorce.

One of the messiest EVER.

And in the middle of his filing for bankruptcy.

And in the middle of watching his team.

And his fortune.

And his life falling apart.

The owner of the Los Angeles Dodgers had the time to call “a fan” to talk about his image.

For 49 minutes.

And four seconds.

Really?

That even surprised Erik.

“I’m a Joe nobody.  I’m not a season ticket holder.   I’m not a sponsor.  I’m somebody who doesn’t like him and that doesn’t differentiate me from anyone in Los Angeles.”

McCourt told Erik that he could ask anything he wanted.

Anything?

Bad move Frank.

At one point Erik told the owner:

“I can’t wait until you are gone, so I can figuratively dance on your grave as the owner of the team.”

Did I mention that Erik is sans filter?

Now I get the whole PR aspect of why a public figure that everyone despises would like to get some good pub.

A local LA television station and the LA Times both interviewed Erik today.

But maybe McCourt doesn’t realize how big LA really is.

If he’s trying to win back fans.

One at a time.

He’s got a long way to go.