I read the news today, oh boy! The Dodgers were sold to a consortium fronted by Magic Johnson. For two freaking billion dollars! I'm not exaggerating! Frank McCourt took the money so he could pay off his divorce settlement. Good riddance! Because of McCourt I have gone two years without seeing a game at Dodger Stadium. A place I've been visiting since 1965, maybe a 1000 times overall. I missed the experience but promised myself not to give that guy a dollar, even if the tickets were free! So now what?
It seems too good to be true. After all I share a memory of note with Magic Johnson. We were both at the last World Series game played at Dodger Stadium. Game 2 in 1988 when Orel Hersheiser shut out Oakland with his arm and his bat! I was waiting in a beer line on the field level when I heard a rustle of commotion and turned to see a towering figure heading to his seat. People were applauding and giving Magic high-fives. It was such a sweet time in Los Angeles, both the Lakers and Dodgers winning championships in 1988. It seems so long ago.
My happiness about the sale is tempered by the news that McCourt has a partial stake in the land surrounding Dodger Stadium. If it's developed (see my last piece about an NFL stadium site) he will make even more money. Are you kidding me? That's like getting married and your wife says: "Oh yeah, my ex-husband lives next door. Don't worry, he won't bother you." Anytime McCourt's named is mentioned, its going to bother me.
Meanwhile across the country something truly wonderful is happening. The Florida Marlins have become the Miami Marlins (nice ring to that!) with new uniforms and a new retractable roof ballpark that makes me want to get on a plane and check it out. No more rain outs for the franchise that won the World Series in 1997 and 2003. That's right, a team that began in 2003 has won two championships in the same time the Dodgers have won zero. I've always liked the Marlins, who won a dramatic Game 7 in extra innings to beat Cleveland in 1997 and vanquished the mighty Yankees in 2003, becoming the last team to win the Series at old Yankee Stadium. Those playoffs included the infamous Steve Bartman inning vs The Cubs, one of the wildest baseball games ever played.
Miami's new stadium looks incredible, like something out of Star Trek and the new uniform looks great on their big free agent signing Jose' Reyes and new manager Ozzie Guillen. I'd like to think this is the year for the Dodgers, but the McCourt hangover is going to last until Magic and his partners completely take control. Until then, I think a team doing all the right things should win it all, and that team is the Miami Marlins.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
McCourt's Parking Plans Leave Dodgers Idling
"Ding dong the witch is dead!" was the triumphant cry of the Munchkins when the Wicked Witch was killed by Dorothy's falling farmhouse. Yet their worries were not over because another Wicked Witch would seek revenge. That's the way I feel right now about the Dodgers and their upcoming sale. The wicked Frank McCourt has been forced by Bud Selig's falling fist to sell the Dodgers and that's cause for great celebration. However, McCourt somehow figured out how to keep the Dodger Stadium parking lots separate from the sale of the team. Whoever buys The Dodgers will have to lease the lots from McCourt. Somehow this wicked witch has cast an evil spell on the Dodgers which will outlast his ownership!
I've been going to the stadium I once loved since 1965. I've probably attended 1000 events there. Yet McCourt's mismanagement of the team and their resources have kept me away for the past two seasons. I have turned down free tickets simply because I don't want even a dime of beer money to go to McCourt. Many other Dodger fans feel the same and in 2011 the team failed to draw at least 3 million fans for the first time since 1992.
My biggest concern is that McCourt might try to use the parking lots to attract an NFL team to Dodger Stadium. There's a perfect spot to build a football stadium behind center field. Its called Lot 5 and it sits in the original Chavez Ravine, surrounded on three sides by steep hills that lead to a flat surface almost exactly the size of a football field. Looking at the spot its easy to imagine a football stadium nestled into those hillsides. With all the talk of building a new stadium downtown (where there's no parking at all) or out in the City of Industry (really?), this has always seemed to be the perfect spot.
Peter O'Malley wanted to build a football stadium there in 1996 before Mayor Richard Riordan asked O'Malley not to pursue an NFL team. He wanted to concentrate on bringing a team to the historic LA Coliseum. Historic, yes but also an aging dump with notoriously bad parking. O'Malley was so disappointed he ended up selling The Dodgers and since then the team's fortunes have gone downhill.
Just when I thought it was safe to go back to Dodger Stadium, it may be even worse. McCourt has already ruined the Dodgers. The thought of him ruining a chance to bring NFL football back to L.A. is too much to handle. The thought of him owning the new football stadium makes me sick!
I've been going to the stadium I once loved since 1965. I've probably attended 1000 events there. Yet McCourt's mismanagement of the team and their resources have kept me away for the past two seasons. I have turned down free tickets simply because I don't want even a dime of beer money to go to McCourt. Many other Dodger fans feel the same and in 2011 the team failed to draw at least 3 million fans for the first time since 1992.
My biggest concern is that McCourt might try to use the parking lots to attract an NFL team to Dodger Stadium. There's a perfect spot to build a football stadium behind center field. Its called Lot 5 and it sits in the original Chavez Ravine, surrounded on three sides by steep hills that lead to a flat surface almost exactly the size of a football field. Looking at the spot its easy to imagine a football stadium nestled into those hillsides. With all the talk of building a new stadium downtown (where there's no parking at all) or out in the City of Industry (really?), this has always seemed to be the perfect spot.
Peter O'Malley wanted to build a football stadium there in 1996 before Mayor Richard Riordan asked O'Malley not to pursue an NFL team. He wanted to concentrate on bringing a team to the historic LA Coliseum. Historic, yes but also an aging dump with notoriously bad parking. O'Malley was so disappointed he ended up selling The Dodgers and since then the team's fortunes have gone downhill.
Just when I thought it was safe to go back to Dodger Stadium, it may be even worse. McCourt has already ruined the Dodgers. The thought of him ruining a chance to bring NFL football back to L.A. is too much to handle. The thought of him owning the new football stadium makes me sick!
Monday, December 12, 2011
Tim Tebow's Positive Energy Beats My Negative Vibes
Yesterday I stuffed envelopes with my holiday cards while watching NFL football. That's when I witnessed a Christmas miracle. Since the Packers were destroying the Raiders I turned my attention to the Broncos vs Bears match up. After all, Tim Tebow has everyone talking about Denver and their big turnaround since he took over as quarterback. They'd won 5-in-a-row and many of them in thrilling fashion. So when I saw The Bears leading 10-0 with five minutes left in the game I stopped everything and focused on the action.
What I saw cannot be described with mere words. The Bears went to their prevent defense which gave Tebow plenty of time to pass the ball. The guy had completed only 8 out of 23 passes until then but suddenly completed seven in a row including a touchdown pass to make it 10-7 Bears. Divine intervention? No, bad idea to change from an aggressive defense to a conservative one.
Now it was starting to look like a Hollywood movie and I knew how it would end. The Bears would run out the clock because Denver had no more time outs left. Instead, Chicago running back Marion Barber ran out of bounds to stop the clock. Inexcusable since he would have won the game by sitting down and letting time expire! Tebow gained enough yards to put kicker Matt Prater in line for a 59 yard field goal and he made it to send the game to overtime.
Divine intervention? No, just perfect conditions in the thin air of Denver to boom one through the uprights. So the Bears get the ball and only need a field goal to win in sudden death overtime. Except the mistake-prone Barber fumbles the ball and Denver recovers it! Almost looked like Marion was throwing the game on purpose! Tebow made a couple of plays before Prater drilled a 51 yard field goal to win the game for the Broncos 13-10. Even the Packers helped out by beating the Raiders and putting the Broncos in first place in the AFC West.
Divine intervention? Maybe! I cannot explain why Tim Tebow looks like Clark Kent for 55 minutes and suddenly transforms into Superman seizing victory when defeat seems so certain. Someone said he is in such great physical shape he gets stronger while opponents get weaker. Teammate Eric Decker says Tebow radiates positive energy. That doesn't explain why Denver's defense has stepped it up or why the offensive line gives Tebow consistent protection. No one on TV knows the answer and neither do I.
I just know I'll be watching next Sunday...when there's five minutes left in the game.
What I saw cannot be described with mere words. The Bears went to their prevent defense which gave Tebow plenty of time to pass the ball. The guy had completed only 8 out of 23 passes until then but suddenly completed seven in a row including a touchdown pass to make it 10-7 Bears. Divine intervention? No, bad idea to change from an aggressive defense to a conservative one.
Now it was starting to look like a Hollywood movie and I knew how it would end. The Bears would run out the clock because Denver had no more time outs left. Instead, Chicago running back Marion Barber ran out of bounds to stop the clock. Inexcusable since he would have won the game by sitting down and letting time expire! Tebow gained enough yards to put kicker Matt Prater in line for a 59 yard field goal and he made it to send the game to overtime.
Divine intervention? No, just perfect conditions in the thin air of Denver to boom one through the uprights. So the Bears get the ball and only need a field goal to win in sudden death overtime. Except the mistake-prone Barber fumbles the ball and Denver recovers it! Almost looked like Marion was throwing the game on purpose! Tebow made a couple of plays before Prater drilled a 51 yard field goal to win the game for the Broncos 13-10. Even the Packers helped out by beating the Raiders and putting the Broncos in first place in the AFC West.
Divine intervention? Maybe! I cannot explain why Tim Tebow looks like Clark Kent for 55 minutes and suddenly transforms into Superman seizing victory when defeat seems so certain. Someone said he is in such great physical shape he gets stronger while opponents get weaker. Teammate Eric Decker says Tebow radiates positive energy. That doesn't explain why Denver's defense has stepped it up or why the offensive line gives Tebow consistent protection. No one on TV knows the answer and neither do I.
I just know I'll be watching next Sunday...when there's five minutes left in the game.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The Greatest Night In Baseball History
I went to my first baseball game in 1965. For nearly fifty years I've been a fan of the game. I've never seen anything like the night of September 28, 2011, the greatest single evening in baseball history. Eight teams playing four games with two playoff berths on the line on the last day of the regular season with two of the match-ups going extra-innings. It was something I'll never forget.
One month ago I was like most fans. Bemoaning the lack of a close pennant race as the Yankees and Phillies dominated their respective leagues. Even the wild card playoff berths seemed pre-destined. The Atlanta Braves had a 8 game lead over the St. Louis Cardinals, while the Boston Red Sox claimed a 9 game margin over the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. But the month of September was cruel to Boston and Atlanta who found themselves tied for the two wild card spots with the teams who finally chased them down..
My TV clicker almost blew up as I went back and forth between the four games on two ESPN channels. The Red Sox took an early lead over the Orioles and the Yankees had a 7-0 lead over the Devil Rays. If the Red Sox held on they were going to the playoffs and Tampa was going home. Then it started raining in Baltimore (as if the night needed any more drama) and Tampa rallied to make it 7-6 in the bottom of the ninth. With two outs they sent to the plate a guy named Dan Johnson with a .108 batting average. In the type of pressure situation every kid dreams about he knocked out a solo home run to send the game into extra innings.
Meanwhile the Red Sox game resumed and they quickly wished the rain had never stopped. Baltimore, a team with nothing to play for but pride, scored two runs in the 9th to win the game 4-3. Now the Red Sox had to root for their fierce rivals to beat Tampa. The Yankees had clinched top seed in the playoffs a week earlier so they also had nothing to play for and I'm sure they did not want to play extra innings. They held on until the 12th when Evan Longoria hit his second homer of the game, winning the wild card for Tampa and completing the epic collapse of Boston.
While all of this was going on there were two important games being played in the National League. One of them had St. Louis romping over Houston 8-0 . Then the Cards turned their attention to the Atlanta Braves vs. Philadelphia Phillies marathon. The Phils, like the Yanks, already had the best record in the National League and thus had nothing on the line. I'm sure they were not happy to go extra innings but they kept their best players in the line up until finally beating the Braves 4-3 in the 13th. That sent the Cardinals to the playoffs and the Braves into the record books for their historic choke job.
The Red Sox and Braves are two of baseball's heritage teams. When September started they looked like wild card winners. But the Sox won only seven games and the Braves won only nine while the Devil Rays and Cards never gave up hope. It took the greatest night in baseball to decide the ultimate winners and losers. Now its time for the playoffs to see who wins it all. It'll be a tough act to follow.
One month ago I was like most fans. Bemoaning the lack of a close pennant race as the Yankees and Phillies dominated their respective leagues. Even the wild card playoff berths seemed pre-destined. The Atlanta Braves had a 8 game lead over the St. Louis Cardinals, while the Boston Red Sox claimed a 9 game margin over the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. But the month of September was cruel to Boston and Atlanta who found themselves tied for the two wild card spots with the teams who finally chased them down..
My TV clicker almost blew up as I went back and forth between the four games on two ESPN channels. The Red Sox took an early lead over the Orioles and the Yankees had a 7-0 lead over the Devil Rays. If the Red Sox held on they were going to the playoffs and Tampa was going home. Then it started raining in Baltimore (as if the night needed any more drama) and Tampa rallied to make it 7-6 in the bottom of the ninth. With two outs they sent to the plate a guy named Dan Johnson with a .108 batting average. In the type of pressure situation every kid dreams about he knocked out a solo home run to send the game into extra innings.
Meanwhile the Red Sox game resumed and they quickly wished the rain had never stopped. Baltimore, a team with nothing to play for but pride, scored two runs in the 9th to win the game 4-3. Now the Red Sox had to root for their fierce rivals to beat Tampa. The Yankees had clinched top seed in the playoffs a week earlier so they also had nothing to play for and I'm sure they did not want to play extra innings. They held on until the 12th when Evan Longoria hit his second homer of the game, winning the wild card for Tampa and completing the epic collapse of Boston.
While all of this was going on there were two important games being played in the National League. One of them had St. Louis romping over Houston 8-0 . Then the Cards turned their attention to the Atlanta Braves vs. Philadelphia Phillies marathon. The Phils, like the Yanks, already had the best record in the National League and thus had nothing on the line. I'm sure they were not happy to go extra innings but they kept their best players in the line up until finally beating the Braves 4-3 in the 13th. That sent the Cardinals to the playoffs and the Braves into the record books for their historic choke job.
The Red Sox and Braves are two of baseball's heritage teams. When September started they looked like wild card winners. But the Sox won only seven games and the Braves won only nine while the Devil Rays and Cards never gave up hope. It took the greatest night in baseball to decide the ultimate winners and losers. Now its time for the playoffs to see who wins it all. It'll be a tough act to follow.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Champions League Final Brings Back Memories!
There's something in the air, can you feel it? Do you smell the fresh cut grass and hear the kids cheering on their teammates? Its spring time and that means balls are flying through the air down at the local...soccer field? That's right, I'm talking about that funny little game that most American adults claim to dislike yet somehow all their kids are playing nearly every day. I used to be one of those haters, turning up my nose at the mere thought of watching a match and clinging to my love of a real sport, like baseball. Now the Dodgers are a disgrace and I'm embracing my love for football, the kind that's really played with the feet, not the kind with helmets and bone-jarring tackles.
It took a long time for me to see the light. Back in 1994 when the World Cup final came to the Rose Bowl, I joined up with some fellow skeptics to watch the match between Italy and Brazil at a local pub. The game ended 0-0 and Brazil won the title on penalty kicks. In other words, the perfect example of why most Americans don't like soccer. Low scores, deliberate play and lots of flopping around on the field. It would be ten years before I watched another match.
By then I had a new job and a new co-worker named Kelly. Her love for soccer rivaled my once-passionate affection for the Dodgers. She had discovered the game late in life and was determined to watch and play as much soccer as possible. In 2004 she and her husband invited me over to watch the Euro Cup final between Portugal and Greece. It was another low-scoring game but something was different about this match.
Portugal was heavily favored to win on its home pitch and I became familiar with the names of such greats as Luis Figo, Deco and Cristiano Ronaldo. Despite the star-power of the host team, Greece kept the game close thanks to the goal keeping of Antonios Nikopolidis. In a few months, Greece was going to play host to the Olympics, and they looked woefully unprepared for the task. When their team won the Euro Cup 1-0 it seemed to energize the country who ended up staging a wonderful Olympics.
Like any sport, it helps to know the players and the more I learned the more I realized I needed a favorite team to sustain my interest in soccer.
In 2005 Kelly and I watched the Champions League Final between Liverpool and AC Milan. I'd been to Liverpool before and toured all the landmarks associated with my beloved Beatles. It looked bad for "The Reds" who were down 3-0 at the half but they staged a furious comeback to tie the match 3-3. Its been called one of the greatest comebacks in sports history and when Liverpool won the title on penalty kicks I was hooked. Liverpool was my team and I was now a genuine soccer fan.
When I discover something new I tend to get a little crazy with my passions. I started out buying soccer movies to whet my new appetite for the game. The one every knows is "Victory" (1981) with Sly Stallone and Michael Caine. Its a fun movie with marvelous footage of soccer great Pele' in his prime. Then came the little known "A Shot At Glory" with Robert Duvall and soccer star Ally McCoist. This one takes place in the Scottish league and I learned a lot just by watching the opening credits. Later I discovered "The Longest Yard" was remade into a soccer movie called "Mean Machine" with former player Vinnie Jones. My favorite turned out to be "Fever Pitch," the original film version of Nick Hornby's book about growing up in England as an Arsenal fan.
One of the things I love about soccer is the brevity of the game. Most matches take only two hours to watch and except for half-time its non-stop action. I read once that an average NFL game features around 12 minutes of actual playing time and it takes over 3 hours to complete! So even if the soccer match turns out to be a boring "prawn sandwich" it doesn't take up an entire afternoon. My favorite time is the 8am Sunday telecast of the English Premier League. In my bed with coffee in hand I cheer for my favorite player, Steven Gerrard, and root against such powerhouses as Chelsea and Arsenal. I'm already looking forward to watching the Champions League final taking place in London on May 28th. This is a rematch of 2009 when Barcelona won the title behind the magnificence of Lionel Messi, perhaps the best player in the world. They beat Manchester United and Ryan Giggs, perhaps the most beloved player in the world, and the Red Devils will be ready for revenge at Wembley Stadium. It should be a helluva match!
It took a long time for me to see the light. Back in 1994 when the World Cup final came to the Rose Bowl, I joined up with some fellow skeptics to watch the match between Italy and Brazil at a local pub. The game ended 0-0 and Brazil won the title on penalty kicks. In other words, the perfect example of why most Americans don't like soccer. Low scores, deliberate play and lots of flopping around on the field. It would be ten years before I watched another match.
By then I had a new job and a new co-worker named Kelly. Her love for soccer rivaled my once-passionate affection for the Dodgers. She had discovered the game late in life and was determined to watch and play as much soccer as possible. In 2004 she and her husband invited me over to watch the Euro Cup final between Portugal and Greece. It was another low-scoring game but something was different about this match.
Portugal was heavily favored to win on its home pitch and I became familiar with the names of such greats as Luis Figo, Deco and Cristiano Ronaldo. Despite the star-power of the host team, Greece kept the game close thanks to the goal keeping of Antonios Nikopolidis. In a few months, Greece was going to play host to the Olympics, and they looked woefully unprepared for the task. When their team won the Euro Cup 1-0 it seemed to energize the country who ended up staging a wonderful Olympics.
Like any sport, it helps to know the players and the more I learned the more I realized I needed a favorite team to sustain my interest in soccer.
In 2005 Kelly and I watched the Champions League Final between Liverpool and AC Milan. I'd been to Liverpool before and toured all the landmarks associated with my beloved Beatles. It looked bad for "The Reds" who were down 3-0 at the half but they staged a furious comeback to tie the match 3-3. Its been called one of the greatest comebacks in sports history and when Liverpool won the title on penalty kicks I was hooked. Liverpool was my team and I was now a genuine soccer fan.
When I discover something new I tend to get a little crazy with my passions. I started out buying soccer movies to whet my new appetite for the game. The one every knows is "Victory" (1981) with Sly Stallone and Michael Caine. Its a fun movie with marvelous footage of soccer great Pele' in his prime. Then came the little known "A Shot At Glory" with Robert Duvall and soccer star Ally McCoist. This one takes place in the Scottish league and I learned a lot just by watching the opening credits. Later I discovered "The Longest Yard" was remade into a soccer movie called "Mean Machine" with former player Vinnie Jones. My favorite turned out to be "Fever Pitch," the original film version of Nick Hornby's book about growing up in England as an Arsenal fan.
One of the things I love about soccer is the brevity of the game. Most matches take only two hours to watch and except for half-time its non-stop action. I read once that an average NFL game features around 12 minutes of actual playing time and it takes over 3 hours to complete! So even if the soccer match turns out to be a boring "prawn sandwich" it doesn't take up an entire afternoon. My favorite time is the 8am Sunday telecast of the English Premier League. In my bed with coffee in hand I cheer for my favorite player, Steven Gerrard, and root against such powerhouses as Chelsea and Arsenal. I'm already looking forward to watching the Champions League final taking place in London on May 28th. This is a rematch of 2009 when Barcelona won the title behind the magnificence of Lionel Messi, perhaps the best player in the world. They beat Manchester United and Ryan Giggs, perhaps the most beloved player in the world, and the Red Devils will be ready for revenge at Wembley Stadium. It should be a helluva match!
Monday, March 14, 2011
More Sunlight For March Madness!
Daylight Savings Time is here. In the nick of time if you ask me. With so much trouble all over the world its nice to have more hours of sunlight. Last Sunday was my favorite day of the year. Our politicians screw up many things but moving up daylight savings time was their shining moment. Especially when it comes to the All-American tradition of Spring Break.
I know it sounds funny for a baby boomer to talk about spring break which to many conjures up images of Connie Francis and Fort Lauderdale. In Southern California spring break is redundant. Who needs a break from 72 degrees and hazy sunshine? The people who need a break are those freezing souls east of the Rockies. This has to be their worst winter in decades.
I lived on the Great Lakes for three winters and came home with my California soul craving sunshine. Even in a mlld winter you could go a month without seeing the sun. That was the hardest part for me. I made the drive every March down to Daytona Beach just to see the sun and it was worth every one of the 21 hours it took to get there. In Florida there were college girls and spring training baseball games. Disney World without the humidity or the long lines. Lots of happy people grateful for the sun, watching March Madness basketball games in palapa bars from St Pete to Vero Beach.
I saw the Dodgers play in the latter city and loved the whole Dodgertown vibe. Tom Lasorda driving a golf cart along side a group of fans heading to the ballpark. Sitting on the grassy knoll with served as the outfield barrier before they installed fences. My friend sleeping one off under a tree in the adjacent park and getting hit by a foul ball. Driving back to Daytona and hoping an old friend wouldn't mind if we crashed on his floor. A free MTV concert at the historic bandshell on the beach. Florida in March will always be the epitome of Spring Break.
Back then the only problem was Daylight Savings Time arriving in April, too late for most vacationers. This year it arrived on March 13th, right before the fun starts. St. Patrick's Day, March Madness and of course, Spring Break. Kind of a holy trinity for party people. Unless you gave up partying for Lent. If so, good luck.
I have no such reservations. Upon returning to California twenty years ago, I have kept the spring break tradition alive. Even if its just a three day weekend to get away from the foggy coast, I go somewhere and its always a blast.
Now that flying is such a hassle, I'd rather drive which means I can bring everything I need to have a good time. Beach chair, boombox, food and drink. Minimalism for maximum fun.
Last year I did spring training in Arizona. The new Dodgers ballpark is nice but lacks the funky vibe of Vero Beach. Its way out in the boring suburb of Glendale. I preferred riding the Metro trolley to the A's ballpark in Phoenix and getting in 9 holes at Rolling Hills Golf Course! Right across the street from the stadium. Something I couldn't do in Florida when it was still standard time.
This year I'm going to Las Vegas. There won't be any baseball games but there will concerts, hot tubs and girls. Did I forget March Madness? The greatest thing about this wonderful month? That's why I'm going to Sin City, to watch the action in the sports book and make some money betting on the games. This year is special because my alma mater made it to the Big Dance. That's right, the UCSB Gauchos take on mighty Florida in the first round. Chances are they won't be playing by the time I get to Vegas, but its spring time, and hope springs eternal!
I know it sounds funny for a baby boomer to talk about spring break which to many conjures up images of Connie Francis and Fort Lauderdale. In Southern California spring break is redundant. Who needs a break from 72 degrees and hazy sunshine? The people who need a break are those freezing souls east of the Rockies. This has to be their worst winter in decades.
I lived on the Great Lakes for three winters and came home with my California soul craving sunshine. Even in a mlld winter you could go a month without seeing the sun. That was the hardest part for me. I made the drive every March down to Daytona Beach just to see the sun and it was worth every one of the 21 hours it took to get there. In Florida there were college girls and spring training baseball games. Disney World without the humidity or the long lines. Lots of happy people grateful for the sun, watching March Madness basketball games in palapa bars from St Pete to Vero Beach.
I saw the Dodgers play in the latter city and loved the whole Dodgertown vibe. Tom Lasorda driving a golf cart along side a group of fans heading to the ballpark. Sitting on the grassy knoll with served as the outfield barrier before they installed fences. My friend sleeping one off under a tree in the adjacent park and getting hit by a foul ball. Driving back to Daytona and hoping an old friend wouldn't mind if we crashed on his floor. A free MTV concert at the historic bandshell on the beach. Florida in March will always be the epitome of Spring Break.
Back then the only problem was Daylight Savings Time arriving in April, too late for most vacationers. This year it arrived on March 13th, right before the fun starts. St. Patrick's Day, March Madness and of course, Spring Break. Kind of a holy trinity for party people. Unless you gave up partying for Lent. If so, good luck.
I have no such reservations. Upon returning to California twenty years ago, I have kept the spring break tradition alive. Even if its just a three day weekend to get away from the foggy coast, I go somewhere and its always a blast.
Now that flying is such a hassle, I'd rather drive which means I can bring everything I need to have a good time. Beach chair, boombox, food and drink. Minimalism for maximum fun.
Last year I did spring training in Arizona. The new Dodgers ballpark is nice but lacks the funky vibe of Vero Beach. Its way out in the boring suburb of Glendale. I preferred riding the Metro trolley to the A's ballpark in Phoenix and getting in 9 holes at Rolling Hills Golf Course! Right across the street from the stadium. Something I couldn't do in Florida when it was still standard time.
This year I'm going to Las Vegas. There won't be any baseball games but there will concerts, hot tubs and girls. Did I forget March Madness? The greatest thing about this wonderful month? That's why I'm going to Sin City, to watch the action in the sports book and make some money betting on the games. This year is special because my alma mater made it to the Big Dance. That's right, the UCSB Gauchos take on mighty Florida in the first round. Chances are they won't be playing by the time I get to Vegas, but its spring time, and hope springs eternal!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Packers Win Brings Bittersweet Memories
The Packers beat the Steelers in Super Bowl XLV to win their 4th Vince Lombardi trophy.
I couldn't make it to Dallas but I enjoyed the game surrounded by friends, beer and bratwurst.
It brought back memories of the big game I saw in 1998 when the Packers played the Broncos at Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego. The great thing about going to a Super Bowl is the fact you will see a national champion crowned. I've been to the World Series, The Rose Bowl and NBA playoffs but until Super Bowl XXXII I'd never seen a title game in person. It was everything I thought it would be except for one little thing: the wrong team won!
I became a Packer fan in 1965 when Don Chandler kicked a game winning field goal to beat the Colts in a sudden-death playoff game.
I was eight years-old and I'd never heard of "sudden-death" before and I could only imagine the pressure felt by Chandler. Growing up in Orange County you would think I’d have rooted for the Rams, who held training camp at nearby Fullerton State College. I even have pictures of me posing with legends like Merlin Olsen and Deacon Jones. That didn't keep me from worshiping Bart Starr and Jim Taylor who ended up leading the Packers to victory at the very first Super Bowl in 1967.
As a kid I always dreamed about seeing a game at legendary Lambeau Field, site of the famous "Ice Bowl" in 1967 where the Packers beat the Cowboys in below freezing temperatures. Sometimes those childhood dreams come true and in December 1990 I went to my first game in Green Bay. Unfortunately for me it was the second coldest game in Lambeau history with the wind chill dropping as low as minus-35. Being a California kid whose only experience with winter came from skiing at Mammoth Mountain I was ill-prepared for the elements. When my friends noticed my windbreaker and tennis shoes they thought I was nuts.
"When I go skiing I dress in layers like this," I explained. "Well you're not going to be working up a sweat like you do on a mountain," said my buddy Stuart. "You are going to be sitting on a metal bench for three hours and you are going to need the heaviest jacket and boots you can find."
They actually borrowed clothing from strangers in the parking lot which included a pair of lady's ear muffs and fur lined Sorel boots. It was so cold my beer froze by the time I made it back to my seat! To add to my misery the Packers lost to the Barry Sanders-led Lions but thanks to my friends I avoided getting frostbite.
I was able to go to that game because I was actually living in Wisconsin at the time. For some reason I still don't understand I left sunny SoCal and ended up living on the beautiful Door County peninsula for three years. In 1992 I was presented with the opportunity of a lifetime. Working for a small radio station I was assigned to cover the Packers for the upcoming season. That meant not only going to the games but actually getting access to the hallowed locker rooms at Lambeau. It turned out to be a quite a year which began with the hiring of coach Mike Holmgren and the acquisition of an unknown quarterback named Brett Favre.
The Packers missed the playoffs by one game but I knew great things were in store and I was right. They won the Super Bowl in 1997 and were huge favorites to beat the Broncos in 1998. By then I’d landed in Playa Del Rey and still had connections back in Green Bay, including a former girlfriend who scored me a precious ticket. I happily paid the $275, still the most I've ever spent for any event, and drove down to San Diego with high hopes. The night before the game my friends and I rode the trolley to various NFL sponsored parties and heard bands like Smash Mouth and Kool and the Gang. I was out late but still managed to get to the stadium by nine the next morning.
For the next six hours I treated my friends to bratwurst for breakfast and grilled chicken for lunch. (I remember it cost $10 to park back then, now its $100 just to stand in the parking lot!) Once inside I could feel the energy flowing throughout the stadium. The anticipation was nothing I’d felt before and by the time Jewel finished singing the national anthem I was ready to explode from the excitement. When the game finally began the action on the field had me riveted. Players always talk about the atmosphere at the Super Bowl. To call it “electric” would be an understatement.
Especially this game, a back and forth battle between quarterbacks Favre and John Elway, whose Broncos led at halftime 17-14. I hadn’t left my seat the entire time and was ready for a cold beer since it was an unusually hot day. Little did I know that the ushers would be stomping down the aisles, issuing instructions to everyone for the upcoming half time show.
I should have known it was coming since I’d been handed a seat cushion with a pocket full of goodies when I arrived. Now they were yelling at all of us to be prepared for the big production. I couldn’t believe how quickly a stage was set up and it looked liked hundreds of people had flooded the field. I was told to use a flashlight and then hold up a banner while Smokey Robinson and The Four Tops belted out a tribute to Motown. I loved the music and only later found out we were creating the illusion of a record album spinning around the stadium.
The second half action was even better than the first. John Elway scrambled for a first down and landed right in front of me after spinning around like a helicopter. Eventual game MVP Terrell Davis scored to make it 31-24 Broncos with 1:45 on the clock. The Packers made a desperate drive down the field but when time ran out the Broncos were Super Bowl champions.
I knew I’d just seen one of the greatest NFL games ever played. I knew I’d been part of history. There was just one problem. The wrong team won!
I couldn't make it to Dallas but I enjoyed the game surrounded by friends, beer and bratwurst.
It brought back memories of the big game I saw in 1998 when the Packers played the Broncos at Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego. The great thing about going to a Super Bowl is the fact you will see a national champion crowned. I've been to the World Series, The Rose Bowl and NBA playoffs but until Super Bowl XXXII I'd never seen a title game in person. It was everything I thought it would be except for one little thing: the wrong team won!
I became a Packer fan in 1965 when Don Chandler kicked a game winning field goal to beat the Colts in a sudden-death playoff game.
I was eight years-old and I'd never heard of "sudden-death" before and I could only imagine the pressure felt by Chandler. Growing up in Orange County you would think I’d have rooted for the Rams, who held training camp at nearby Fullerton State College. I even have pictures of me posing with legends like Merlin Olsen and Deacon Jones. That didn't keep me from worshiping Bart Starr and Jim Taylor who ended up leading the Packers to victory at the very first Super Bowl in 1967.
As a kid I always dreamed about seeing a game at legendary Lambeau Field, site of the famous "Ice Bowl" in 1967 where the Packers beat the Cowboys in below freezing temperatures. Sometimes those childhood dreams come true and in December 1990 I went to my first game in Green Bay. Unfortunately for me it was the second coldest game in Lambeau history with the wind chill dropping as low as minus-35. Being a California kid whose only experience with winter came from skiing at Mammoth Mountain I was ill-prepared for the elements. When my friends noticed my windbreaker and tennis shoes they thought I was nuts.
"When I go skiing I dress in layers like this," I explained. "Well you're not going to be working up a sweat like you do on a mountain," said my buddy Stuart. "You are going to be sitting on a metal bench for three hours and you are going to need the heaviest jacket and boots you can find."
They actually borrowed clothing from strangers in the parking lot which included a pair of lady's ear muffs and fur lined Sorel boots. It was so cold my beer froze by the time I made it back to my seat! To add to my misery the Packers lost to the Barry Sanders-led Lions but thanks to my friends I avoided getting frostbite.
I was able to go to that game because I was actually living in Wisconsin at the time. For some reason I still don't understand I left sunny SoCal and ended up living on the beautiful Door County peninsula for three years. In 1992 I was presented with the opportunity of a lifetime. Working for a small radio station I was assigned to cover the Packers for the upcoming season. That meant not only going to the games but actually getting access to the hallowed locker rooms at Lambeau. It turned out to be a quite a year which began with the hiring of coach Mike Holmgren and the acquisition of an unknown quarterback named Brett Favre.
The Packers missed the playoffs by one game but I knew great things were in store and I was right. They won the Super Bowl in 1997 and were huge favorites to beat the Broncos in 1998. By then I’d landed in Playa Del Rey and still had connections back in Green Bay, including a former girlfriend who scored me a precious ticket. I happily paid the $275, still the most I've ever spent for any event, and drove down to San Diego with high hopes. The night before the game my friends and I rode the trolley to various NFL sponsored parties and heard bands like Smash Mouth and Kool and the Gang. I was out late but still managed to get to the stadium by nine the next morning.
For the next six hours I treated my friends to bratwurst for breakfast and grilled chicken for lunch. (I remember it cost $10 to park back then, now its $100 just to stand in the parking lot!) Once inside I could feel the energy flowing throughout the stadium. The anticipation was nothing I’d felt before and by the time Jewel finished singing the national anthem I was ready to explode from the excitement. When the game finally began the action on the field had me riveted. Players always talk about the atmosphere at the Super Bowl. To call it “electric” would be an understatement.
Especially this game, a back and forth battle between quarterbacks Favre and John Elway, whose Broncos led at halftime 17-14. I hadn’t left my seat the entire time and was ready for a cold beer since it was an unusually hot day. Little did I know that the ushers would be stomping down the aisles, issuing instructions to everyone for the upcoming half time show.
I should have known it was coming since I’d been handed a seat cushion with a pocket full of goodies when I arrived. Now they were yelling at all of us to be prepared for the big production. I couldn’t believe how quickly a stage was set up and it looked liked hundreds of people had flooded the field. I was told to use a flashlight and then hold up a banner while Smokey Robinson and The Four Tops belted out a tribute to Motown. I loved the music and only later found out we were creating the illusion of a record album spinning around the stadium.
The second half action was even better than the first. John Elway scrambled for a first down and landed right in front of me after spinning around like a helicopter. Eventual game MVP Terrell Davis scored to make it 31-24 Broncos with 1:45 on the clock. The Packers made a desperate drive down the field but when time ran out the Broncos were Super Bowl champions.
I knew I’d just seen one of the greatest NFL games ever played. I knew I’d been part of history. There was just one problem. The wrong team won!
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