It started with Marvell Wynne.
It was the 1986 Pennant Chase, and it’s right around this point that my first baseball memories were developing. I remember the likes of Alejandro Pena, Alex Trevino, Bill Madlock accompanying the Dodgers’ ‘stars’ like Steve Sax and Pedro Guerrero.
The Dodgers were involved in the Pennant Chase and I keenly recall Marvell Freakin’ Wynne hitting a bases clearing triple to win a late season game for the Padres, inching them closer to the division title that would eventually be the Dodgers’. Regardless, those fake pinstripes and ugly colors bothered me even then – I mean, you’re NOT the Yankees, lose the pinstripes. Even though my family had a fondess for and cousin residing in the city, it irked me that they wanted to be included under the SoCal umbrella. True, they were SoCal geographically but SoCal is Los Angeles. NOT Orange County, NOT Riverside, and certainly NOT the sleepy beach town that had somehow grown into a moribund metropolis.
Regardless, I ended up meeting Dale Murphy on a family vacation in San Diego the following year, and then in 1988 – as fate would have it – my first ‘real’ little league team, in Mission Hills Major Division, happened to be those ugly-pinstriped Friars. For three stinkin’ years I was a Padre, and for three years we’d come up short. The Braves, the Astros, the Cardinals – these were real teams, real organizations! – would edge us out one way or the other. Realistically, it was because they had more talent and better coaching. I knew better, though – it was because we were the Padres, the franchise that would torment Los Angeles so subtly but so consistently that I grew to out-hate by innate Bay Area rival Giants. This was a true antipathy for the Pads.
From 1990 – 1995, the Pads were a non-factor, never finishing higher than 3rd. They still pestered my beloved Dodgers, however, and Gary Sheffield’s angry bat waving and blistering bat speed might have single-handedly banished the Dodgers to 99 losses in 1993. At least in my own mind. I mean Steve Finley, Brad Ausmus – guys who would become Dodgers – were at the time some of my least favorite players. They just annoyed me, and that’s my whole point here: everything about San Diego is annoying. At least to true Angelenos. And as my adolescence progressed, I became more loyal – fiercely loyal – to mi ciudad. San Diego was a Ken Caminiti throw across the diamond from Tijuana, but the franchise seemed so antiseptic, this quasi-Disney world of self-imposed, sun-enamored isolation. I mean Tony Gwynn was a GREAT ballplayer, a really dynamic player on all levels, but he was a singles hitter. And that’s perfect Padre baseball. Even their all-time greatest legend’s best skill was getting to first base.
The 1998 World Series was particularly annoying, but being that I was in college – the rivalry to the southerly neighbors was an afterthought, and they were swept by the Yankees anyway. Take that, you fake pinstripers. No matter anyway, as the Padres reclaimed their rightful place in the N.L. West gutter for three of the subsequent five seasons.
The arrival of Bruce Bochy and his massive cabeza spawned a renaissance of Padre hatred for me in my early adult years. A pragmatic manager with mediocrity seemingly ingrained in his demeanor, he guided the club through those comfortable years at the bottom of the division. Then all of a sudden the emergence of Jake Peavy somehow thrusts this barely-over-.500 team to the Division Title. With an offense featuring Brian Giles & Ryan Klesko, they were rightfully swept in the playoffs and on their merry way. But with the Dodgers in perennial turmoil (read: Fox, McCourt), the Padres were somehow a better franchise. The Pads, especially after their Adrian Gonzalez-led division repeat in 2006, were literally a superior organization than my beloved Dodgers. Even with the most overrated closer in the game’s history in Trevor Hoffman – hey guys, try to hit my 83mph changeup, because I know you can smoke my 89mph fastball – the Padres were piling up wins faster than my team. And this annoyance was waxing again. It became evident that the Padres would be the perennial thorn in my side, at least vis-a-vis my Dodgers feelings.
Which brings us to last night. And Carlos Quentin. Carlos Quentin, who by the way, attended Stanford University, the “Ivy League of the West Coast.” Carlos Quentin, who has been hit 98 times by pitch since 2008, by far the major league leader, decided that Zack Greinke, he of the anxiety disorders, the social awkwardness, the i’d-rather-be-anywhere-than-in-the-spotlight, would intentionally throw at him in a one-run ballgame, with a full count. Based on the reactions of Greinke (kicked the dirt, turned his head), A.J. Ellis (casually pulled off his mask) and everybody in the stadium aside from Carlos Quentin, one could reasonably assess that Zack Greinke did NOT hit Quentin intentionally. Quentin thought otherwise and the ensuing brouhaha left everybody so aghast that Matt Kemp, the centerfielder, was ejected six minutes after the brawl stopped. Jerry Hairston was also ejected, and he wasn’t even playing. Hanley Ramirez made his first on-field cameo in 2013, and Josh Beckett was the peacemaker.
I was flipping back-and-forth between Vin Scully’s poetic blow-by-blow and MLB Network’s live look-in with Greg Amsinger, Mitch Williams & Dan Plesac, and the former ballplayers were downright angry. “Matt Kemp is so angry because he knows Carlos Quentin doesn’t know baseball!” Williams exclaimed. “You don’t hit a guy intentionally in that situation.” Plesac also defended Greinke, “You can tell by everybody’s reaction this wasn’t intentional. When a catcher and pitcher know that you’re throwing at a guy, the catcher will immediately place himself between the batter and pitcher after the pitch.”
Which brings us back to Carlos Quentin, and back to San Diego. It’s a city that is so engulfed in itself that it doesn’t perceive the obvious. You’re nice, you’re relaxing, but nobody really likes you. That applies to real SoCal natives and it certainly is germane to the National League West. I need to just stop concerning myself with this psuedo-rival and worry about the team that’s up north and has earned the moniker of rival through a century of playing on a level ballfield. I mean, Marvell Wynne? Really?
I was noticing how low-scoring and homerless today’s (Opening Day) games seemed. . .then I see MLB Network flash the stat:
average of 4.7 runs per BALLGAME today. Lowest for a full day (min. 7 games) since May 11, 1983.
*not lowest opening day, folks. Lowest single day run output per ballgame in 29 years!!!*
a good infotweet courtesy @espnstatsinfo: A recap of the day’s pitching and how it – and the game with the most runs – rewrote the Opening Day record book. http://es.pn/I0jIB7.
sidenote(s): Matt Kemp. Dodgers. Magic. Vin Scully. Awww yeah, it’s back!!!
Apparently, I’m not as excited as most Dodger fans regarding the landmark McCourt sale to Earvin Johnson & the Kasten-Guggenheim Group.
While I do feel that this change in ownership is necessary, and I certainly believe that this is the right ‘team’ to lead the organization for the next decade+, I’m a bit offput at both the $2 BILLION price tag. As of yesterday, the projected sale price was a robust $1.5 billion, though perhaps Time Magazine was a bit more optimistic, calling the $1.5 billion projection a ‘bargain.’ That latter conjecture turned out to be true, and while the Guggenheim team has $125 billion in assets, I don’t see how you outbid somebody by half a billion dollars. . .
That’s not my main gripe, however. The fact that McCourt still is a partner in a “land venture” in the surrounding Chavez Ravine area. Though he won’t be an organizational decision-maker so that should be sufficient reason to back the Dodger news whole-heartedly, but my enthusiasm is definitely dampened. The main reason I cut back on tickets & attendance (personally) for the past two years was due to McCourt personally. The fallout from the divorce & proceedings led to a subpar experience at Dodger Stadium and Frank-ly, the team was inferior due to the shoestring budget of ownership.
New ownership – especially by one of L.A.’s most beloved icons – is definitely an enticement to head back to ballgames & the Stadium, but as Vin Scully’s years wane, the pull to stay home and “get back to this one” on the TV may outweigh the fact that McCourt will still be getting my money. Furthermore, the unplanned-as-of-yet land venture will undoubtedly be a profit machine, adding to McCourts magical coffers. . .with my hard-earned money. I’m dubious.
Though it is definitely a ‘fresh start’ and celebratory moment at the Ravine, I’ll feel better if Magic can really occur, and somehow Earvin Johnson can make McCourt disappear for good.
Until then, it’s TIME for Dodger baseball. . .
After an inspirational 4-for-5 last night (3 doubles, one mammoth HR and a damn inspirational, “next year, we’re definitely going to make the playoffs” quote, Matt Kemp is putting together one of the greatest seasons in L.A. Dodgers history:
. . .and within THREE points and ONE homerun of the Triple Crown with six games to play. Outlandish? Of course, but the man is simply a force, and in an ironic, paradoxical finish to an otherwise toxic season in Chavez Ravine, he might join Clayton Kershaw as dual Dodger award winners come November.
Check out the leaderboard (thank you ESPN):
|NL BATTING AVERAGE||AVG|
|1. Ryan Braun, MIL||.330|
|2. Jose Reyes, NYM||.329|
3. Matt Kemp, LAD
|4. Joey Votto, CIN||.313|
|5. Hunter Pence, HOU/PHI||.313|
|NL HOME RUNS||HR|
|1. Albert Pujols, STL||37|
2. Matt Kemp, LAD
|3. Dan Uggla, ATL||35|
|4. Prince Fielder, MIL||34|
|5. Mike Stanton, FLA||34|
|NL RUNS BATTED IN||RBI|
1. Matt Kemp, LAD
|2. Ryan Howard, PHI||113|
|3. Prince Fielder, MIL||112|
|4. Troy Tulowitzki, COL||105|
|5. Ryan Braun, MIL||104|
Thanks to Tom Hoffarth of the L.A. Daily News yet again for putting us on to TUESDAY’s documentary/ESPN/30 for 30 feature.
Really good article, see the link here or copy below. Can’t wait to see this – not just as a Dodger fan, but as a spouse of a Mexican who’s family immigrated from Mexico, this will have a double importance – note the emphasis on the Mexican families being evicted from Chavez Ravine to make room for the Stadium; a particularly juicy irony for those that celebrated FernandoMania.
Why we’re all still part of ‘Fernando Nation’
The working title that Cruz Angeles had for his quickly-recruited ESPN “30 for 30” project was “The Bull and the Sleeping Giant.”
Fernando Valenzuela was the former. Fernando, “El Toro.” The other was the Mexican-American population of L.A.
But that hardly conveyed what he wanted to do: Tell the story of Valenzuela, but also revisit and rejoice in “Fernandomania” one more time, in the way he brought a somewhat fragmented city under one magical umbrella.
Angeles, a Brooklyn-based movie maker who grew up in South Central L.A. continues to stress a bit even today that his documentary, “Fernando National,” which debuts Tuesday at 5 p.m. on ESPN (it repeats at 8 pm. on ESPN2 and at 9 p.m. on ESPN Classic), could have had more about how Valenzuela was taught the screwball (from teammate Bobby Castillo, after it was originally suggested by scout Mike Brito that he learn the split-finger fastball). Or why Fernando looked to the sky before delivering his pitch (“he said it was because he was in kind of a trance for a second, visualizing his target,” said Angeles).
Those can be seen as major exclusions. So is the fact that, after a 50-day player strike, baseball needed so much to get in the fans’ good graces that when it started the second half of the season with the postponed All-Star game, Fernando, still just a rookie, was named the National League’s starting pitcher. Think of how Stephen Strasburg might have fit into that scenario.
But in the grand scheme of things — trying to document how Valenzuela made an impact on a culture and a city upon his arrival with a flury in 1981 — Angeles need not worry that Los Angeles will forget that part of it. We get enough screwball comedies on TV enough every season.
Starting and ending with Valenzuela’s connection to the controversial Mexican-American family displacements around Chavez Ravine between 1952 and ’58, the stuff in between will make your goosebumps rise again. Angeles was able to achieve both his goals.
Fernando’s story isn’t that tough to mess up, actually. The key is getting him to cooperate, which he did. And to speak on camera. In both Spanish and, for the first time many may hear it, in English.
“We only had five months,” said Angeles, who estimates they shot about 30 hours of material, and had another 60 hours of archived material to go through to cut down to about 50 minutes. Thank goodness most of the ESPN “30 for 30” projects end up for sale on DVD with the director’s additional cuts.
Angeles was approached by ESPN for any ideas he might have for this documentary project, and he had already done some initial legwork in getting Valenzuela to agree to do something about his life. So he pitched it. And they’re weren’t initially sold.
“In a way, Fernando’s story has already been told through baseball history — it’s what Joe DiMaggio did for the Italians, or Sandy Koufax for the Jewish community … aside from what Jackie Robinson did,” said Angeles. “But there was much more context to put Fernando’s story into.
That would be the history of the 170-acre land under Dodger Stadium, which bulldozed three communities of 300 families, most of whom had already moved away by the time the city council of L.A. and the county board of supervisors had given Walter O’Malley the spot to build the park. Those who remained had to be forcibly taken away, with the TV cameras rolling and the photographers snapping pictures.
That Valenzuela arrived in L.A., Angeles found out, wasn’t so much by accident. O’Malley wanted a “Mexican Sandy Koufax” to bring back the local Mexican-American fans to the stadium, even though many boycotted the Dodgers, blaming them for what happened.
A key clip in the documentary is from then-general manager Al Campanis — infamously fired in 1987 when he made racial-heavy comments about African-Americans lacking “the necessities” of becoming a big-league manager.
“Mr. O’Malley, he would say, ‘Al, do you think it’s possible that we might get a good Mexican player? there are a lot of Hispanic-speaking people here and it would be a help to have somebody of their own playing on our ballclub.”
Yes, “Hispanic-speaking” was the term he used. It reminds us of how then-Dodgers broadcaster Jerry Doggett would refer to the “Latin-speaking” fans who jammed Dodger Stadium during the 1981 season to see Fernando pitch.
Angeles taps into people like United Farm Workers of America co-founder Dolores Huerta, author and poet Luis Rodriguez, former boxing champ Oscar de la Hoya, former L.A. Opinion managing editor J. Gerardo Lopez , former ABC producer Estella Lopez and actor Ray Lara to provide the Chicano context. Interestingly, Dodgers Hall of Fame broadcaster Jaime Jarrin, who was Fernando’s main translator at the time, wasn’t interviewed.
Several people identified only as “Dodger fans” are also on camera — it turns out that Paul Haddad was used because of his vast collection of Vin Scully audio tape — and a lot from Dodgers team historian Mark Langill also move the story along. Accounts from discovering scout and former reliever Castillo are among the most humorous, as well as from Valenzuela’s agent, Dick Moss, who came up the need for a $1 million contract when Valenzuela (who made $32,500 his first year and $350,000 his second) reached arbitration because it was a nice round number.
The numbers we are reminded of with Fernando’s arrival in ’81 are still mind-blowing, starting with that 8-0 start (“and who’s to say when it will end!” says Vin Scully after he records that eighth win). Then over his career — seasons where he had 20 complete games and 21 wins, a no-hitter, the consecutive strike-out record in the ’86 All Star game. Why the Dodgers released him in such a undignified manner in spring of ’91 is still a mystery.
“But you can’t put into words what he meant — no one else will wear No. 34 as a Dodger,” says Langill.
Think of that as you see Steve Garvey’s No. 6 (even if it was to Joe Torre) or Mike Piazza’s No. 31 recently reissued.
“We need long-term heroes for our culture,” said Angeles. “This is a city founded by 44 Mexicans, and still today, we are treated like illegal immigrants. It’s a long history that we need to take ownership of.
“Fernando is the most American story you can find. We love the underdog. And with him, he represents how hard work and a Protestant ethic can achieve the American dream. He was very modest. He didn’t want to be in the limelight. But everyone has an emotional attachment to his story, and it still brings an emotional reaction. The people living in L.A. need that context.”
So Manny has officially left the building, joining the All-Dodger outfield in Chicago with Juan Pierre & Andruw Jones. While some local media are wishing Manny good riddance, YKI has no animosity toward Manny Ramirez.
Dodger fans were the benefactors of the most exciting second half (season?) in recent Dodger history, on the back of Manny(wood) and his dreadlocks – consistently providing power & excitement that YKI doesn’t recall seeing at the Stadium. Of course the 2009 Fertility Drug fiasco put a damper on the ‘legacy’ of Ramirez, but he still put up good numbers in the games he played (.290/16/63), an effect that continued this year despite copious injuries. Was he worth $45mm? Probably – he put asses in the seats and balls into the Pavilion. And guess what? The Dodgers were the focus of the baseball word for reasons other than the heinous McCourt divorce for the greater part of his tenure.
Lastly, we know this was coming – we’re fortunate to have been part of the resurrection of Chavez Ravine, and there was a definitive expiration date on his viability. That was exceeded, and Colletti dumped the salary and furthered his reputation as the best damn penny pinching big market GM in the game. Good work, and good luck to Manny. Thanks for the Memories.
YKI is trying hard not to get excited about the potential for a Wild Card (Dodgers are 5.5 games back as of today). . .but thus is baseball, with hope springing eternal, the fat lady not quite singing yet and there still being a sliver of hope until you’re officially mathematically eliminated.