Vin Scully gave a lengthy interview to Tom Hoffarth of the Daily News – so lengthy, in fact, that some overrun where Scully answers reader questions can be found here.
Tag: Vin Scully (Page 17 of 17)
When you think back to being a kid, who were the stars that meant the most to you? They weren’t actually all stars, were they?
The heroes of my youth, the people in sports and culture who affected me, influenced me and changed me … it’s no April Fool’s joke, but no one in their right or wrong mind would have the same group. A mix of legends and larks – some off the wall, some on – all making for good stories.
Some were special for obvious reasons, some only because they arrived in my consciousness at just the right time, just when I needed someone to emulate, or celebrate, or maybe just smile about. They arrived just when I was ready to love them. And I think I do love them. I don’t think I’d be writing about them today if I didn’t love them.
Here is a tribute to some of those who, for different reasons, made a lifelong impression on me as a kid growing up in Los Angeles:
Happy Hairston: In 1972, my final year of living in the first house I knew, the Lakers were having a little bit of a winning streak. For the first time that I can recall, I played basketball with my older brother in the driveway. I was 4 going on 5; he was 8 going on 9. We would pretend to be the Lakers, and he would be Gail Goodrich and tell me that I was Happy Hairston. Even at that young age, I had the sense that I was getting the second-fiddle player – something told me that a basketball player named Happy couldn’t be that good, and might even be a dwarf. But he wasn’t bad, and most importantly, he was my guy. My first sports identity.
George Long/WireImage/Getty Images* * *
Kent McCord: My earliest “What do you want to be when you grow up” was a policeman. Then, I decided I wanted to be a TV star. Then I saw Adam-12, and I realized I could become both. Even at such a young age, I learned the names of the actors. Kent McCord wins in a tossup over Martin Milner. (It’s funny how times change – my 7 1/2-year-old daughter still hasn’t seen a primetime show because of all the kiddie options available to her, but I was soaking them up on my own TV before my fifth birthday.)
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Hank Aaron: On vacation at the White Stallion Ranch in Tucson, Arizona, when I wasn’t riding horses, avoiding cactii, wearing a bolo tie (John Wooden got it from me) and getting covered in dust, I was chalking up the earliest baseball memory that sticks with me to this day: being in front of a TV set with a bunch of other dude ranchers when Henry Louis Aaron hit his 715th home run. I don’t remember it well – it’s more of a still frame shot in my mind – and deep down, I fear my sister will read this and tell me I’ve got the details all wrong, but all I know is I’ve been seeing that scene in my memory forever. (Below is Vin Scully’s marvelous call.)
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Dr. George Fischbeck: Lots of different things work into this one. At the end of a field trip to a museum early in grade school, I came home with a book, “The World of Weather and Climate.” Around the same time, I started going beyond the comic section of the newspaper and into the weather page. And then there was night after night of watching Channel 7 Eyewitness News on our 5-inch black-and-white kitchen TV, with Jerry Dunphy, Christine Lund, Fast Eddie Alexander, Stu Nahan … and Dr. George, the Captain Kangaroo of weathermen. My brother, sister and I even wrote a song one December, “We Wish You a Merry Fischbeck.” Not only did he introduce me to barometric pressure, he also hosted Saturday night, pre-prime-time half-hour shows, including one burned into my brain that introduced me to the Hindenberg. Oh, the humidity! TV cop had been replaced in my ambitions. I was going to be a TV weatherman.
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James Harris: I just liked him at first because he was good. He was the quarterback the night I truly became a sports fan – August 9, 1975, a preseason 35-7 slaughter by the Rams over the Cowboys at the Coliseum, where for the first time I was truly captivated by the game in front of me. (And they say exhibitions don’t matter!) That I later learned that Harris was a relative pioneer as a black quarterback only enhanced my childhood passion for him. I even had a brief fascination with Grambling. I went from weather to sports, and almost never left.
Nate Fine/Getty Images* * *
Lawrence McCutcheon: Lawrence of Los Angeles. I still have the T-shirt I wore 35 years ago – I even had my 5-year-old son try it on … carefully … a few weeks back. One 1,000-yard season after another. The first great player that I discovered for myself. O.J. Simpson and Franco Harris were more famous, but they weren’t mine. Lawrence was my first Pedro Guerrero – an underappreciated heavy-hitter.
Martin Mills/Getty Images* * *
Spider Sabich: Later immortalized (if I may use the term ironically) in news and then on “Saturday Night Live” as the skier who was “accidentally shot” by Claudine Longet, Sabich was in a ski film that we watched during our beginner days at June Mountain in the mid-’70s. A race announcer said that Sabich had broken his neck. Then there was a pause. And then, the announcer said – as if he needed time to think about it – that Sabich would be unable to continue racing that day. My brother and I thought that pause was just hysterical. Poor Spider.
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Manny Mota: This one really needs no explanation. Suffice it to say, Mota might have been my first sports folk hero.
Diamond Images/Getty Images* * *
Bob Cousy: The sports books I read as a kid had a profound effect on me. I checked a Cousy biography out of the school library, not really knowing anything about him – honestly, I’m not sure I had even heard of him. I might have just checked it out because there was a basketball player on the cover. Reading about the hours and hours of practice he put in as a schoolboy, I got my first introduction to the idea of working at becoming a great athlete – up to that point, I think I assumed sports heroes were born great. For a brief time, I allowed myself to believe that if I worked at it, I could become great – and though that turned out not to be true, I can’t say that ethic has hurt me.
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The Superstars: It was an exhibition … but you couldn’t have told me it didn’t matter. The Superstars on ABC in the mid-’70s were huge to my brother and me. We would watch religiously and stage elaborate recreations. Just thinking of the Obstacle Course makes me sigh … I mean, this was even bigger to me than Battle of the Network Stars.
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Reggie Smith: Garvey, Lopes, Cey and Russell should maybe be on this list, but again, the underappreciated tend to win out for me. And on those 1970s Dodger teams, Smith was underappreciated. I used to think “cool” meant the Fonz and the Sweathogs. Then I realized “cool” meant Reggie Smith. The Yankees could have their Reg-gie, Reg-gie – I liked ours.
Michael Zagaris/Getty Images* * *
Lynn Swann: In the first Super Bowl I can remember watching live on TV, my life was forever changed by Swann’s tip-to-himself catch of a Terry Bradshaw bomb in a key moment of the Steelers’ victory over the Cowboys. No other football play in my life did I reenact more.
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Ron LeFlore: The roots of this story go to LeVar Burton’s portrayal of LeFlore in “One in a Million: The Ron LeFlore Story,” a TV movie. A baseball player who came … from jail? Rock my world.
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Slick Watts and Curly Neal: For reasons that I can’t explain, if you were a bald basketball player with incredible skills, you had me transfixed.
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Don Chaney: I couldn’t shoot when I first started in grade-school pickup games. My first summer at John Wooden Basketball Camp, when I was 9, my coach actually had me stay in the backcourt while our team was on offense. Thank goodness for the Lakers acquiring Chaney, which introduced to me the concept of the defensive specialist. Now that was something I could aspire to. Now that blocked shot I had at basketball camp on a one-on-one fast break wasn’t just a random event – it was the start of something big. Of course I was fooling myself just as much, but you can still credit most of my understanding that there was more to basketball than scoring to Don Chaney.
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Franz Klammer: “Into the bear turn!” To this day, Klammer winning the gold at Innsbruck is the greatest ski run I’ve ever seen.
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Wes Unseld: One day I decided either I needed a new favorite basketball player, or I wanted to adopt someone who wasn’t a Laker – I forget which, but either way it was just for fun. So I took the boxscores of that morning’s sports section, closed my eyes and stuck a finger down on the name Unseld. I can’t remember the point total next to it, but it probably said 2. And the next day, maybe it said 5. At first, I was disappointed that I had landed on someone who didn’t even score as much as Happy Hairston, but eventually I learned what a great defender and rebounder he was. Wes Unseld was all right in my book.
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Abraham Lincoln: Okay, it’s not exactly profound to include Lincoln, but he makes the list because his geared-for-kids biography was a primary example of the right book making someone larger than life accessible to me. I can’t tell you how many times I re-read that book. It three-dimensionalized him.
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Magic Johnson: Another of my favorite sports stories from kidhood comes from John Wooden Basketball Camp. Each session, Wooden would hold a Q&A with the campers. In the summer of ’79, shortly after the NBA draft, one of the campers asked Wooden which new first-round draft pick would be better for the Lakers: Brad Holland or Earvin Johnson. Wooden avoided the easy choice – Holland, the UCLA graduate – and went out on a limb to choose Magic. And then Magic hugged Kareem, and everyone in Los Angeles had a new best friend.
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Pedro Guerrero: I can remember when Guerrero played second base for the Dodgers. That’s how solid my Guerrero cred is. I can tell you how he batted .625 in his first season. I can explain to you the Bill James argument for why he should have been the 1981 World Series MVP – by himself – and tell you all about the glorious summer of 1985. I will stand no aspersions cast at Pedro Guerrero.
AP* * *
Ken Coleman: The Red Sox announcer wrote a book, “So You Think You Want to Be a Sportscaster.” As it happens, I did think I wanted to be a sportscaster. And I read Coleman’s book inside and out, up, down and sideways, and began trying to broadcast games in my bedroom. And then I turned to writing.
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Steven Bochco: Along with Michael Kozoll, Bochco was the man behind “Hill Street Blues,” the television love of my life. Turned onto it by my brother, I watched it every Thursday, rooting for it to survive its terrible ratings. When my brother went off to college in 1981, I recorded every episode, watched them, then watched them again in late-night marathons with my brother on winter and spring vacations. But strangely, it never occurred to me as a kid to write for television as a grownup, and I think you can blame my overall obsession with sports for that. I spent more time dreaming of making a leaping catch at the wall or a turnaround three-pointer at the buzzer than writing for the greatest show of my generation.
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R.J. Reynolds: Hmm, I think I’ve said a thing or two about R.J. in the past.
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Vin Scully: Around the time I realized I was never going to be a pro athlete, there was Vinny to give my life purpose. I can’t tell you how lucky I feel that to this day, he exists as a role model, as well as the greatest broadcasting voice I’ll ever know.
There is so much about Vin Scully that is artistry: his approach to calling a game, the stories he tells, his tireless preparation, his ability to appreciate and articulate the true emotional sensation of a moment, big or small. So much about him that is the work of a master, a genius.
But integral to the way Scully connects with us is something that is simply a physical part of who he is, and that’s his voice.
It’s at once authoritative and soothing. It is friendly without being overly folksy or saccharine. Ever have that teacher in school who you grew up to become good friends with – mentor and peer, all in one? That is all in Scully’s voice.
And it stands in such contrast with the voices of most broadcasters today that seem to have come from an assembly line. Those poor factory products – they simply don’t have it. You can hear them, but often it feels like we can hear them all too well.
In my mind, the way I describe Scully’s voice is to call it a “Fordham drawl.” It’s an entirely invented term, one that’s meant to be taken anything but literally. It’s just meant to capture the trace hint of his New York upbringing and the relaxed, elongated speech pattern he has evolved into. The Fordham drawl is the voice of a Northerner who took up residence cowboying in the West, who embraced the relaxed way-of-life but found the happiest of mediums in his accent.
Scully is hardly Jack Palance, the Pennsylvania-born actor who won an Academy Award playing Curly Washburn in “City Slickers.” Hardly that rough and tough. But you can certainly imagine Scully holding up one finger and convincing you that he knows the secret to life. Because it’s all in that voice.
Scully was not even 10 when he began dreaming of becoming a broadcaster. Not only wasn’t he old enough to be aware of his gift, he hadn’t even acquired the gift yet from the puberty gods (although what we wouldn’t give to have a recording of an 8-year-old Scully doing play-by-play of some stickball game in his neighborhood.) But somehow, the perfect voice found the perfect man for it.
It’s really sort of a miracle – a blessing for Dodger fans.
“Hi everybody, and a very pleasant Sunday to you, wherever you may be. Hope you don’t mind if I take a moment out: First of all, I am sorry to have caused the accident that caused so much stress. I’m very sorry for that. I’d also like to salute the gentle heroes of 911 in Calabasas, and the doctors and nurses at West Hills Hospital, for taken care of me so very, very well. However, now that I’ve done that, let’s get to the more important thing, and that is the game. The Dodgers and the Indians. Jake Westbrook will be on the mound for Cleveland. Left-hander Eric Stults will be on the mound for the Dodgers. And Lord, I am happy to be here. We’ll be with the ballgame, right after this.”
Yep, Vin Scully is back. Before today’s broadcast, he talked to reporters briefly about his eventful week, and Tony Jackson of ESPNLosAngeles.com has details.
… “All of a sudden, I felt one of those big, bronchial coughs coming up, and I thought I could get to the bathroom,” Scully said. “So I jumped out of bed — bad idea — I got dizzy, and then, trying to keep the cough in until I got to the bathroom, I did something to myself. I’ll explain: I went from the bedroom toward the bathroom, and there was a marble floor, and all of a sudden, I blacked out.“I woke up sitting in the floor, my wife calling 911 and blood on the floor.”
Scully had hit his head on the floor, as well as bruising his arm and slightly injuring his back. When he arrived at the hospital, he received staples in the back of his head.
“Instead of stitches, they put in five staples with a thing like a staple gun,” he said. “I will never go by that office supply store without thinking of what happened. … I won’t mess around with a marble floor ever again. But I never thought I was in any [life-threatening] trouble at all.”
Scully was in the broadcast booth for Sunday’s Cactus League game with Cleveland, the first game he has called this spring. He said he was under no restrictions following the accident.
“I’m supposed to cut back on dangling participles, and I’m not allowed to split any infinitives for at least another week,” he said.
Talk about your health scares, though: former Dodger player and current minor-league instructor Lenny Harris had emergency quadruple bypass surgery. “Harris was stricken with chest and arm pains Friday, but did not suffer a heart attack as there was no heart damage,” reports Ken Gurnick of MLB.com. “In a Saturday operation, doctors found blockages in four arteries, with one 95 percent blocked.”
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- Ronald Belsiario’s visa paperwork is completed, according to an anonymous source of Jackson’s, meaning that the Dodgers could see him as soon as Monday or Tuesday.
- Though Russell Martin is improving, taking live batting practice Sunday, he is still not expected to be in the lineup Opening Day because of the probable need of a rehab assignment. In contrast, Brad Ausmus had a flareup of chronic back pain, but is expected to be on the Opening Day roster. No. 4 catcher Lucas May was optioned to Albuquerque, at least for the time being.
Those of you who went to bed at a proper hour avoided a scare late Thursday: Vin Scully was hospitalized after a fall at his home. Word came relatively quickly, however, that it was not serious, though he was hospitalized as a precaution.
Chris Williams/Icon SMI
Vin Scully
Vin Scully
The news is still unnerving for obvious reasons, and recalls the passing of legendary Lakers broadcaster Chick Hearn – unbelievably, more than seven years ago – being precipitated by a couple of falls. Scully said in a statement that he is still planning to broadcast his first game of the year Sunday from Camelback Ranch.
“I just spoke with him,” Dodger vice president of communications Josh Rawitch added at 11:30 p.m. last night, “and he told me that he was in bed this evening and simply got up too quickly and fell and bumped his head. For precautionary reasons, he went to the hospital and will stay overnight for observation but he fully expects to be at Camelback Ranch this weekend for the the telecast on Sunday.”
Vin: Just don’t rush it if you need the rest.
P.S. Assuming all is okay, Tom Hoffarth of the Daily News is hosting a Q&A with Scully, for which you can e-mail your questions now.
All this time we had been preparing for baseball’s J.D Salinger to show up. But the moment he first appeared before us, it was Grace Kelly. With maybe a touch of Lincoln thrown in.
Grace and wisdom, in the flesh. Sandy Koufax was here on Earth (Earth being the Nokia Theater in downtown Los Angeles), at once mortal and ethereal. He came to talk Saturday night – talk only about a meaningless game and a person who played it – and yet for as long as people had been waiting to hear him, he might as well have been revealing the secrets to the universe.
As Koufax pointed out, he is not the recluse he is made out to be. “I don’t know that I’ve dropped out of sight,” he told interviewer T.J. Simers in his slightly raspy but congenial voice. “I go to the Final Four year after year (not in disguise) – I wear a jacket and jeans. I go to golf tournaments. I’ve been to Super Bowls. I’ve been to Dodger Stadium. I go to dinner every night; I go to movies.”
But if he’s not in hiding, he’s not holding press conferences either. And so the audience hungered for each and every word he spoke, like ballpark kids for drifts of cotton candy.
There were distractions – some more tolerable than others. It was not just a night for Koufax – it was a night also for Joe Torre, whose Safe at Home Foundation (combating the damage of domestic violence) was the reason Koufax agreed to the interview. It felt at times like an intrusion when questions were directed at Torre, because we’ve all seen so much of Torre. But Torre was quite interesting, thoughtful and entertaining in his replies – providing a useful reminder of how improbable his own success has been in overcoming an abusive father.
And then of course there is Simers, who wears irreverence on his sleeve in neon, and sometimes teased Koufax, just as he did when he interviewed Vin Scully and John Wooden on this stage in 2008.
But we did get our answers. As Simers himself suggested, we did separate fact from fiction. And Koufax was happy to share with us.
We learned that although many of us have think of Koufax as gentle, particularly in contrast to his partner-in-arms Don Drysdale, we were wrong.
“It sure as hell isn’t ‘gentle,'” Koufax said of how he would describe himself, “especially playing the game. Competing to me is being the last man standing. It has nothing to do with kicking water coolers. That’s ego-massage.”
Koufax was asked about a rare incident in which he was accused of hitting a player (Lou Brock) on purpose, and when the story was related to him and it was said he told Brock he was going to hit him intentionally, Koufax said that was all wrong. He never said anything like that to Brock – before hitting him intentionally.
“If you’re gonna hit someone,” Koufax maintained, “you never tell them.”
And while choosing not to talk in detail about the frightening day that Giants pitcher Juan Marichal hit Dodger catcher Johnny Roseboro with a bat, Koufax denied that the game-winning homer Willie Mays subsequently hit off him came because Koufax had become too cowed.
“Willie told me later he was sure I wouldn’t throw inside,” he said. “But that had nothing to do with it. He’s Willie Mays.”
“Nobody could hit Willie,” Koufax added. “You could throw at him all day, but you couldn’t hit him.”
Koufax spoke with similar respect for Hank Aaron. When Torre wondered aloud about the seven batters Koufax walked intentionally in 1963 when his ERA for the year was 1.88 – saying that “those seven guys must be in the Hall of Fame” – Koufax joked, “He is.”
But on this night, no one had greater stature than Koufax. In case you thought it was all hype, just a case of history rolling a snowball downhill, there was an absolutely stunning moment.
As a surprise special guest, the Dodgers flew in from Spring Training the pitcher who has drawn more comparisons to Koufax than any Dodger, Clayton Kershaw. When Kershaw came on stage, Simers had him compare the size of his hand to Koufax’s. The 6-foot-3 Kershaw held out his palm, and when Koufax’s met it, Koufax’s fingers extended jaw-droppingly farther. Koufax has finger extension like Scully has a vocabulary.
Combined with a serene poise, you understood what made Koufax so great. He even corrected Scully’s famous description during the ninth inning of his 1965 perfect game that the Dodger Stadium mound might be the “loneliest place in the world.”
“No, I had eight people on my side, standing all around me,” Koufax recalled. “While a perfect game is important, we were in a pennant race in September. We were leading, 1-0, and we had to win.”
Koufax also found himself accompanied by another friend in that ninth inning – the knowledge that he was at the pinnacle of his talent – this time corroborating Scully, who said that the night was the only time in his six-decade career with the Dodgers that he sensed in the first inning that a pitcher had no-hit stuff.
“There are times when everything is right,” Koufax said. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had better stuff or better control than I did in the final two innings of that game.”
Koufax acknowledged the years prior to the 1960s when it didn’t always come so easy. Without pointing fingers, he said he “wasn’t pitching often or pitching well … I’d go warm up in the bullpen, and I’d hear an echo” of the guy warming up in preparation to relive him.
“Really encouraging,” Koufax said.
He thought with more frequent work, he had a chance to become a better pitcher sooner. But following the 1960 season, he prepared to walk away from the game.
“I just tossed (my gear) in the garbage can and went home,” he said.
But he was back the next spring.
“First, I worked that winter and found out it wasn’t a lot of fun,” he remembers. And then he made it to Vero Beach for Spring Training in 1961, and longtime Dodger clubhouse man Nobe Kawano handed Koufax what had been in the trash.
“Nobe said, ‘I thought you might need these,'” Koufax remembered with fondness.
Koufax also noted that as a bonus baby who earned more the moment he signed his first contract then some Dodger regulars earned all year, he faced resentment from his teammates in his younger days. There were two exceptions: pitching coach Joe Becker, and Jackie Robinson. In particular, Koufax said that Gil Hodges “didn’t want to have much to do with me.”
“I got a $14,000 bonus, and I was 19 years old,” Koufax said. “I was invited to every poker game. … (but) I wasn’t really welcome in that clubhouse.
“Jackie and Joe Becker were two guys who really went out of their way to try to make it okay. … But after I won my first game, Gil and his wife Joan became as good friends as I ever had.”
The real turning point, according to Koufax, came when Hodges, near the end of his great career as a Dodger first baseman, was managing the Dodgers in a split-squad game. The Dodgers were short on pitchers, and Hodges put a finger in Koufax’s chest and said, “You’re going eight innings today.”
On the trip to the game, Koufax and his roommate, catcher Norm Sherry, had the conversation that prompted Koufax to try not to throw so hard. Koufax said he walked three in the first inning, but got out of it and pitched no-hit ball for those eight innings. The legend was about to be born.
From 1962 to 1966, Koufax pitched 1,377 innings with a 1.95 ERA and 1,444 strikeouts. He started 176 games and completed 100. But he said that the cascade of arm trouble that would ultimately end his career at age 30 originated not on the mound, but as a baserunner, when he landed on his elbow while diving back into second base on a missed bunt by Junior Gilliam.
He didn’t think anything of it at first, but after his next start, his arm filled with fluid “and stayed that way all of 1964.” The Dodgers talked about giving him extra rest during the 1965 season, but it never happened. Instead of pitching every fifth day, he was pitching every fourth day, and then every third day. He won Game 7 of the 1965 World Series on two days’ rest, throwing 132 pitches in a three-hit, 10-strikeout shutout.
Ignoring the irony that the ’65 season was nearly Koufax’s last, Simers used the story to mock today’s pitchers who think a “quality start” is six innings. And Koufax didn’t argue at first, saying that in his mind, “a quality start is shaking hands with the catcher.”
But in the next moment, Koufax indicated he understood the modern approach.
“I think longevity plays a big part in (pitch counts),” he said. “I don’t blame ’em.”
Back then, Koufax pointed out, it was different.
“You didn’t win, you didn’t get a raise,” he said.
Memorably, Koufax and Drysdale held out before the 1966 season for more money, with no leverage other than early retirement. But Koufax said it was easier for him, because he had already decided to hang ’em up by the end of ’66, and so at most he was risking one year of his career. Drysdale was risking much more. Ultimately, the players came to terms, and Koufax finished his Dodger career with a 27-9, 1.73 season, before holding that final press conference.
In front of what might have been the largest crowd to hear him speak until tonight, a stoic Koufax announced his farewell.
“There was emotion. I wasn’t happy about it. But there’s no crying in baseball,” he concluded with a laugh.
Koufax laughed plenty on this night – he seemed utterly at peace with himself and his place on the stage, literally and metaphorically. This was not an uncomfortable person. This was not a recluse. This was a happy man.
“My grandfather just felt time was the most important asset you had,” Koufax said. “As you get older, I’ve developed the habit: Spend your money foolishly and your time wisely.”
Sandy Koufax has a considerable legacy, but to it we can add this: Sandy Koufax loves life.
Vin Scully will appear on the next episode of Fox Sports West’s “Kid Pitch,” scheduled to air Sunday at 10:30 a.m. and March 5 at 4 p.m.
Bill Shaikin of the Times has another batch of revelations from last week’s Jamie McCourt legal filings indicating that, while player payroll has remained steady through last year, the Dodgers planned on keeping it below 2009 levels for most of the next decade despite projected increases in revenue.
For my part, I don’t happen to think the Dodgers are capable of predicting what their team payroll will be eight years from now, as the documents suggest. As Vin Scully might say, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your 2018 budget.”
Furthermore, as Shaikin writes, the projected payroll (relative to projected revenue) in these documents is so low that even MLB commissioner Bud Selig (or, in all probability, his successor) would object.
… The Dodgers spent 46% of revenue on player compensation in 2007 and 42% in 2008, according to the documents. The projections call for that percentage to fall to 25% by 2013 and remain at about 25% through 2018.
Commissioner Bud Selig encourages teams to spend about one-half their revenue on player compensation, according to two high-ranking major league executives contacted by The Times.
“That’s Bud’s rule of thumb,” one of the sources said. …
In other words, while this seems juicy, I wouldn’t overreact. The documents, Shaikin writes, were “prepared by the McCourt management team in May to solicit Chinese investors for a partnership that could have included the Dodgers, a soccer club in Beijing and another in the English Premier League.” They’re designed to make the Dodgers’ profiteering, if you will, look as glowing as possible. It doesn’t seem to me that the scenario they describe is any more realistic than one that suggests the Dodgers have cheap ticket prices and top-of-the-line payroll. The truth is somewhere in between.
There’s something about having this article come out while I was watching the latest episode of the chaos that is the fourth season of HBO’s “Big Love” that somehow seems all too appropriate. These families have all these ambitions, but the domestic conflicts threaten to destroy them all.
Ernie Harwell, whose departure from the Brooklyn Dodgers broadcast team paved the way for Vin Scully’s arrival, will be honored with the Vin Scully Lifetime Achievement Award in Sports Broadcasting.
Harwell, acquired by Dodger chief Branch Rickey in an actual trade for catcher Cliff Dapper in 1948, is 92 and suffering from inoperable cancer. He then joined the Giants in 1950 and was replaced by Scully. He gave a memorable farewell speech to his Detroit Tigers fans last September.
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- The career of former Dodger draft pick Luke Hochevar gets a lengthy stats-and-observation-based analysis from John Sickels of Minor League Ball. Sickels also has a comparison of the Dodgers’ Scott Elbert with Colorado’s Franklin Morales.
- Steve Dilbeck of Dodgers Blog catches up with Tommy Davis, who remains disappointed that he ended up playing with 11 teams over a 10-year period.
- Rob Neyer of ESPN.com and Craig Calcaterra of Hardball Talk discuss how Major League Baseball itself appears to be taking over the Giants’ position against Tim Lincecum in their salary arbitration hearing.
- Tom Glavine has officially retired and taken a front office job of the special assistant variety with Atlanta.
- My Variety colleagues and I wrapped up the fourth season of Friday Night Lights in an online chat at Variety’s On the Air blog. For those who don’t have DirecTV, the fourth season premieres on NBC on April 30.
- Finally, I’m loving this: Hannah Mitchell, the 8-year-old daughter of Times staffer Houston Mitchell, is blogging the Olympics from Vancouver for the Times.
Hi! My name is Hannah Mitchell and I am 8 years old. My dad works for The Times, and he asked me to write a blog sometimes on the fun I am having in Vancouver for my first Olympics. If this is boring to you, blame him. And I want to say hi to all my classmates at Sonrise Christian in Mrs. Doolittle’s class. Yes, Mrs. Doolittle, I am doing my homework. And hi to Mrs. K, Mrs. Free and Mrs. Ambrose.
On my first day in Vancouver, I already have had two really fun things happen: I was interviewed by a TV station and I saw the prime minister of Canada, Stephen Harper. …
