It was a cool, damp, “June gloom” night at Dodger Stadium. I sat there, with my Dodger hat and old style satin Dodger jacket. I was 12 years old and the most enthusiastic fan in the park. I was intent on watching every single pitch and hoping for victory. The marine layer was slowly moving its way over the outfield. Eddie Murray came up to bat. I thought a prayer might help the situation. I closed my eyes and said, “God, please let Eddie Murray hit a home run.” In a daze, I slowly opened my eyes, and it happened. The ball was slowly flying through the mist and into the stands in right center field.
Dodger Stadium was more than a ballpark. It was a place you could be proud of, a place where you felt at home. While other teams were playing electronic sound effects, the Dodgers relied on Nancy Bea Hefley’s organ serenades. She would play music to fit each occasion. Vin Scully’s voice filled the air through radios scattered throughout the stands. It was the perfect ambiance for the perfect team, and our hearts were filled with pride.
Several years later, I found myself interning with the Dodgers and everything had changed. Mike Piazza, the franchise player of the 1990’s, had been traded. A large corporation, News Corporation, owned the team. These days, two men controlled the entertainment on a mixing board, playing sound effects and a song for each player as they came up to bat. As much as we tried, it was not the same. To the true fan, it seemed like Nancy Bea’s role was relegated to the 7th inning stretch. Vin Scully was still there, but the sound of the radio was drowned out by electronic noisemakers. Silly gimmicks tried to entertain the fans while fights occurred around the stadium and in the parking lot.
Then hope arrived in the form of Frank and Jamie McCourt. They purchased the team from News Corporation and immediately the attitude began to change. We were a family owned team again. The Dodgers began to make more appearances in the playoffs. We listened to Frank and Jamie talk about bringing home the Dodger tradition. Frank could be seen with Tommy Lasorda walking around the ballpark, visiting with fans. He would send our family a friendly wave, even though we were several rows above him. After a trip to the Spring Training Camp in Glendale Arizona, I approached Mr. McCourt at the airport. I told him how grateful I was for what he had done for the team. My encounter was pleasant, and he signed my souvenir program. I had little indication that the team would soon file for bankruptcy and hope would be snatched away again, like a third basemen robbing us of an extra base hit.
Now our team is up for sale. My hope is that the new owners maintain the history of the Los Angeles Dodgers. They must understand that this franchise is bigger than all of us. If the new owners are genuine and truly understand the team, the fans will reward them with an outpouring of support. Maybe this time we will knock the ball through those gloomy skies and into a renewed era of Dodger Baseball.