With just a few days to go before the season opener, Paul DePodesta
has been busy making Paul DePodesta-like moves. It's doubtful that
any of the moves will have much impact, but one thing is clear:
DePodesta has a Jason fetish. On Tuesday, he picked up utilityman
Jason Grabowski from the A's (in exchange for about $20 and
a couple Dodger Dogs). Then on Wednesday, he traded minor league
pitcher Jason Frasor to Toronto for outfielder Jayson
Werth. The acquisitions of the two Jasons could affect a third:
Jason Romano. With Grabowski and Werth expected to make the
team (because PDP says so), Romano might be the odd man out... or
the odd Jason out (yeah, lame). Romano, however, won't be alone,
as Jose Hernandez and Bubba Trammell figure to get cut as well.
Meanwhile, despite batting just .229 this spring, Olmedo Saenz has
apparently made the team—provided, of course, that he changes
his name to Jason. As for the pick-ups of Grabowski and Werth—two
guys with little major league experience and even less success—well,
there's not much to say. We'll give PDP the benefit of the doubt,
at least for the moment. It really makes no difference whether it's
Bubba Trammell on the bench or Jason Grabowski—neither is going
to step to the plate with the tying run on second and instill fear
in the opposing pitcher. Let's face it, it's a rebuilding year.
The Dodgers aren't going to pick up anyone who's going to make a
difference here and now. But don't think for a second that'll stop
PDP from acquiring more Jasons. Next on his list: Jason Alexander,
Jason Biggs, and Jason Robards.
March
28, 2004 Cleaning
up to clean-up for Romano?
Last season, Jason Romano spent most of his time on an airplane,
heading back and forth between L.A. and Vegas. When he was in L.A.,
Romano served a crucial role on the team: clean-up guy. He wasn't
the number four batter—he was literally the clean-up guy. When
Rickey Henderson would accidentally spit on the bench, Romano was
there to wipe it up. When Ron Coomer would smear fudge on the dugout
wall, Romano was there with a sponge. When fans would attack Brian
Jordan, Romano was there to mop them up. When hundred dollar bills
would fall out of Kevin Brown's pockets, Romano was there with a
broom (and a money clip). Literally, Romano cleaned up. A year later,
Romano is making his case to be the clean-up guy again... only this
time in the lineup. Romano is tied for second in the majors with
five home runs this spring, and as of Sunday was batting close to
.400. So what's the deal? Steroids? Tim Wallach? Massages from Jamie
McCourt? Whatever the reason for Romano's sudden surge, the offense-hungry
but wallet-empty Dodgers appear ready to declare Jason the hitter
the they've been so desperately seeking. Paul DePodesta ideally
would have liked to acquire someone through a trade, but apparently
his dial-up internet connection in his office prevented him from
doing the necessary research. Evidently one of McCourt's first moves
was to replace T1 internet lines in Vero Beach and L.A. with dial-up
connections. All front-office personnel now have 10 hours of AOL
per month, and unfortunately DePodesta quickly used up his time
deleting emails offering to increase his cock size. With PDP unable
to do his numbers research—and the Dodgers unable to complete
a trade—it's showtime for Romano: Everybody Loves Jason. Well,
at least everybody with the last name of Tracy.
March
24, 2004 Spring
just doesn't have the same ring
It wasn't too long ago that Spring time was a good time. A great
time, actually. It had nothing to do with birds chirping. (After
all, these are the birds who'd later be shitting on your car.) It
had nothing to do with flowers blooming. (After all, these are the
flowers that would make you sneeze all summer.) And it had nothing
to do with Spring Break. (After all, the bikini-clad girls would
ignore you just like they did the rest of the year.) Spring was
a great time for one simple reason: the birth of a new baseball
season. A fresh start with fresh players and fresh hope. Even though
the Dodgers hadn't won a playoff game in years, Spring still had
meaning for Dodger fans—even recently. While you knew better
than to think they actually had a chance, you truly felt like they
did. Mike Piazza could hit 50. Raul Mondesi could join the 40/40
club. A newly-acquired Kevin Brown could win 20 games. A healthy
Eric Karros could hit 30 home runs again. Darren Dreifort could
return to form. There was always something, something that inspired
hope... until now. We're less than 2 weeks from the start of the
season, but is anyone hoping those 2 weeks fly by? Really, is there
a single Dodger fan without Cerebral Palsy who's even the least
bit excited? The team is feeble, the fans have been lied to, and
Rick Monday's gobbler is hanging lower than ever. Oooh, oooh, who's
going to win the last bench spot? Oooh, oooh, are the Dodgers going
to carry three catchers? Oooh, oooh, is Jose Hernandez going to
steal a roster spot from Joe Thurston? Oooh, oooh, did Jim Tracy
find corn in his stool? Never before has there been less to look
forward to. Spring? Yeah, we remember Spring.
March
22, 2004 Dodgers
lobbying for opening day delay
Well aware that they don't have a chance in hell of winning more
than 20 games this season, the Dodgers have decided that a delay
in the season is their only hope and are quietly making their case
to the commissioner's office. If spring training is extended, they
figure, the chances of opposing players suffering season-ending
injuries would increase as well. Add another month or two to spring
training, the Giants may lose Bonds. Rockies might lose Helton.
Giles and Klesko could go down. Meanwhile, the Dodgers would keep
their big guys nice and safe on the bench... well, that's what they'd
do if they had any big guys. But they don't. So this whole plan
is shot to hell. Forget that you read it. Let's change the subject.
Let's talk about something positive. On second thought, don't like
the sound of that. Let's talk about Steve Colyer. Come to think
of it, there's nothing to say about Steve Colyer. Even Steve Colyer's
family has nothing to say about Steve Colyer. Maybe we'll talk about
Rick White. Hmmmm... nope, nothing to say about Rick White either.
What about Masao Kida, you ask? Nope, we've got nothing. Oh fuck
it, just go to dodgers.com and take a tour of the stadium with Pat
Sajak.
March
18, 2004 A
big announcement from Shawn
For much of Spring Training there's been debate over whether Shawn
Green would be moved from right field to first base, but earlier
this week Jim Tracy put an end to the talk. Green, however, made
a big announcement on Thursday: a public service announcement. Green
spent two hours in Port St. Lucie filming the spot on behalf of
the Boys and Girls Club of America. It was apparently unclear to
the Dodger outfielder, however, exactly what the spot was for. Working
without a script, Green launched into the following: "Hi, I'm
Shawn Green of the Los Angeles Dodgers... or what's left of them,
at least. I'd like to talk to you for a minute about Boys and Girls
Clubs. Well, not really boys clubs. I'm not so into those... although
I know of a couple people who are. Girl clubs, now that's another
story. You may think I don't have much of a personality, and that
I'm mild-mannered and a gentleman, but that's because you've never
seen me in a girl club. I'm glad they asked me to talk about girl
clubs. Girl clubs are important to me. On nights when I go 0-for-6,
and ground out three times to the right side, there's nothing like
a classy little girl club. Hey, I don't mean little girls, I mean
little clubs. They're all 18, really. Anyway, I'd like to conclude
with the following: lap dances are worth every penny, there's nothing
hotter than a $100 bill in a thong, and if the Dodgers don't get
a legitimate hitter by the time the season starts, I'm going to
take a shit in Frank McCourt's car. Thank you."
March
15, 2004 Jamie
McCourt to resign
Citing "philosophical differences" (with her husband's
penis), Jamie McCourt is expected to soon announce her resignation
from the Dodgers. Her apparent decision comes on the heels of everyone
else's resignations, leaving Frank McCourt to fill the roles of
President, Senior Vice President of Communications, Executive VP
of Business Operations, and first baseman. Next to resign: Hector
Mino and Julio Alveno, the Dodgers Stadium painters. Unwilling to
comply with McCourt's "water down the paint" directive,
Mino and Alveno will also cite philosophical differences. By April,
the Dodgers' front office should be down to about 13 people, making
it a much easier job for the Bekins guys when McCourt moves the
Dodgers to Venice High in 2005. Let's face it, things are looking
pretty fucking depressing right about now. With rapid-fire resignations,
initial skepticism of McCourt has quickly turned into complete distrust.
When well-respected people within the organization suddenly leave
(and cite "philosophical differences"—which is pretty
much the same thing as saying that McCourt's an asshole), you can
bet that Joe Beckwith is turning in his grave... whatever the hell
that means. (Oh, he's alive? Go figure.) Anyway, on top of all this
bad news comes more: Jeremy Giambi has suffered "degenerative
changes" in two vertebrae in his back. Christ, the hits just
keep coming.
March
4, 2004 Wallach
to get contract extension
Two days into the Grapefruit League season, the Dodgers have scored
20 runs. Banged out 28 hits. Won both games. Why? Well, Tim Wallach,
of course. The Dodgers' new hitting coach has made an immediate
impact by implementing a drill called HIT THE FUCKING BALL. Unveiled
last week, Wallach's drill involves following a complicated series
of steps whereby a batter stands at the plate and HITS THE FUCKING
BALL. First, players are given a bat. They then stand in the batter's
box, at which time a pitch is thrown to them. If the pitch is over
the plate, they're instructed to HIT THE FUCKING BALL. While the
FCC has expressed concern over the name of Wallach's drill, Jim
Tracy is thrilled that the Dodgers are suddenly able to HIT THE
FUCKING BALL. News of Wallach's success quickly spread to Frank
McCourt's office... Frank wasn't actually in his office, and his
son, playing with legos on the floor, refused comment. Nonetheless,
rumors are swirling that Wallach will soon receive a contract extension.
Job security, however, won't stop Tim from pushing the envelope.
He's already working on other innovative drills such as DON'T FUCKING
SWING WHEN THE GODDAMN BALL BOUNCES and TAKE A FUCKING PITCH ONCE
IN A WHILE, JACKASS. Good for Tim.
With just a few days to go before the season opener, Paul DePodesta
has been busy making Paul DePodesta-like moves. It's doubtful that
any of the moves will have much impact, but one thing is clear:
DePodesta has a Jason fetish. On Tuesday, he picked up utilityman
Jason Grabowski from the A's (in exchange for about $20 and
a couple Dodger Dogs). Then on Wednesday, he traded minor league
pitcher Jason Frasor to Toronto for outfielder Jayson
Werth. The acquisitions of the two Jasons could affect a third:
Jason Romano. With Grabowski and Werth expected to make the
team (because PDP says so), Romano might be the odd man out... or
the odd Jason out (yeah, lame). Romano, however, won't be alone,
as Jose Hernandez and Bubba Trammell figure to get cut as well.
Meanwhile, despite batting just .229 this spring, Olmedo Saenz has
apparently made the team—provided, of course, that he changes
his name to Jason. As for the pick-ups of Grabowski and Werth—two
guys with little major league experience and even less success—well,
there's not much to say. We'll give PDP the benefit of the doubt,
at least for the moment. It really makes no difference whether it's
Bubba Trammell on the bench or Jason Grabowski—neither is going
to step to the plate with the tying run on second and instill fear
in the opposing pitcher. Let's face it, it's a rebuilding year.
The Dodgers aren't going to pick up anyone who's going to make a
difference here and now. But don't think for a second that'll stop
PDP from acquiring more Jasons. Next on his list: Jason Alexander,
Jason Biggs, and Jason Robards.
Last season, Jason Romano spent most of his time on an airplane,
heading back and forth between L.A. and Vegas. When he was in L.A.,
Romano served a crucial role on the team: clean-up guy. He wasn't
the number four batter—he was literally the clean-up guy. When
Rickey Henderson would accidentally spit on the bench, Romano was
there to wipe it up. When Ron Coomer would smear fudge on the dugout
wall, Romano was there with a sponge. When fans would attack Brian
Jordan, Romano was there to mop them up. When hundred dollar bills
would fall out of Kevin Brown's pockets, Romano was there with a
broom (and a money clip). Literally, Romano cleaned up. A year later,
Romano is making his case to be the clean-up guy again... only this
time in the lineup. Romano is tied for second in the majors with
five home runs this spring, and as of Sunday was batting close to
.400. So what's the deal? Steroids? Tim Wallach? Massages from Jamie
McCourt? Whatever the reason for Romano's sudden surge, the offense-hungry
but wallet-empty Dodgers appear ready to declare Jason the hitter
the they've been so desperately seeking. Paul DePodesta ideally
would have liked to acquire someone through a trade, but apparently
his dial-up internet connection in his office prevented him from
doing the necessary research. Evidently one of McCourt's first moves
was to replace T1 internet lines in Vero Beach and L.A. with dial-up
connections. All front-office personnel now have 10 hours of AOL
per month, and unfortunately DePodesta quickly used up his time
deleting emails offering to increase his cock size. With PDP unable
to do his numbers research—and the Dodgers unable to complete
a trade—it's showtime for Romano: Everybody Loves Jason. Well,
at least everybody with the last name of Tracy.
It wasn't too long ago that Spring time was a good time. A great
time, actually. It had nothing to do with birds chirping. (After
all, these are the birds who'd later be shitting on your car.) It
had nothing to do with flowers blooming. (After all, these are the
flowers that would make you sneeze all summer.) And it had nothing
to do with Spring Break. (After all, the bikini-clad girls would
ignore you just like they did the rest of the year.) Spring was
a great time for one simple reason: the birth of a new baseball
season. A fresh start with fresh players and fresh hope. Even though
the Dodgers hadn't won a playoff game in years, Spring still had
meaning for Dodger fans—even recently. While you knew better
than to think they actually had a chance, you truly felt like they
did. Mike Piazza could hit 50. Raul Mondesi could join the 40/40
club. A newly-acquired Kevin Brown could win 20 games. A healthy
Eric Karros could hit 30 home runs again. Darren Dreifort could
return to form. There was always something, something that inspired
hope... until now. We're less than 2 weeks from the start of the
season, but is anyone hoping those 2 weeks fly by? Really, is there
a single Dodger fan without Cerebral Palsy who's even the least
bit excited? The team is feeble, the fans have been lied to, and
Rick Monday's gobbler is hanging lower than ever. Oooh, oooh, who's
going to win the last bench spot? Oooh, oooh, are the Dodgers going
to carry three catchers? Oooh, oooh, is Jose Hernandez going to
steal a roster spot from Joe Thurston? Oooh, oooh, did Jim Tracy
find corn in his stool? Never before has there been less to look
forward to. Spring? Yeah, we remember Spring.
Well aware that they don't have a chance in hell of winning more
than 20 games this season, the Dodgers have decided that a delay
in the season is their only hope and are quietly making their case
to the commissioner's office. If spring training is extended, they
figure, the chances of opposing players suffering season-ending
injuries would increase as well. Add another month or two to spring
training, the Giants may lose Bonds. Rockies might lose Helton.
Giles and Klesko could go down. Meanwhile, the Dodgers would keep
their big guys nice and safe on the bench... well, that's what they'd
do if they had any big guys. But they don't. So this whole plan
is shot to hell. Forget that you read it. Let's change the subject.
Let's talk about something positive. On second thought, don't like
the sound of that. Let's talk about Steve Colyer. Come to think
of it, there's nothing to say about Steve Colyer. Even Steve Colyer's
family has nothing to say about Steve Colyer. Maybe we'll talk about
Rick White. Hmmmm... nope, nothing to say about Rick White either.
What about Masao Kida, you ask? Nope, we've got nothing. Oh fuck
it, just go to dodgers.com and take a tour of the stadium with Pat
Sajak.
For much of Spring Training there's been debate over whether Shawn
Green would be moved from right field to first base, but earlier
this week Jim Tracy put an end to the talk. Green, however, made
a big announcement on Thursday: a public service announcement. Green
spent two hours in Port St. Lucie filming the spot on behalf of
the Boys and Girls Club of America. It was apparently unclear to
the Dodger outfielder, however, exactly what the spot was for. Working
without a script, Green launched into the following: "Hi, I'm
Shawn Green of the Los Angeles Dodgers... or what's left of them,
at least. I'd like to talk to you for a minute about Boys and Girls
Clubs. Well, not really boys clubs. I'm not so into those... although
I know of a couple people who are. Girl clubs, now that's another
story. You may think I don't have much of a personality, and that
I'm mild-mannered and a gentleman, but that's because you've never
seen me in a girl club. I'm glad they asked me to talk about girl
clubs. Girl clubs are important to me. On nights when I go 0-for-6,
and ground out three times to the right side, there's nothing like
a classy little girl club. Hey, I don't mean little girls, I mean
little clubs. They're all 18, really. Anyway, I'd like to conclude
with the following: lap dances are worth every penny, there's nothing
hotter than a $100 bill in a thong, and if the Dodgers don't get
a legitimate hitter by the time the season starts, I'm going to
take a shit in Frank McCourt's car. Thank you."
Citing "philosophical differences" (with her husband's
penis), Jamie McCourt is expected to soon announce her resignation
from the Dodgers. Her apparent decision comes on the heels of everyone
else's resignations, leaving Frank McCourt to fill the roles of
President, Senior Vice President of Communications, Executive VP
of Business Operations, and first baseman. Next to resign: Hector
Mino and Julio Alveno, the Dodgers Stadium painters. Unwilling to
comply with McCourt's "water down the paint" directive,
Mino and Alveno will also cite philosophical differences. By April,
the Dodgers' front office should be down to about 13 people, making
it a much easier job for the Bekins guys when McCourt moves the
Dodgers to Venice High in 2005. Let's face it, things are looking
pretty fucking depressing right about now. With rapid-fire resignations,
initial skepticism of McCourt has quickly turned into complete distrust.
When well-respected people within the organization suddenly leave
(and cite "philosophical differences"—which is pretty
much the same thing as saying that McCourt's an asshole), you can
bet that Joe Beckwith is turning in his grave... whatever the hell
that means. (Oh, he's alive? Go figure.) Anyway, on top of all this
bad news comes more: Jeremy Giambi has suffered "degenerative
changes" in two vertebrae in his back. Christ, the hits just
keep coming.
Two days into the Grapefruit League season, the Dodgers have scored
20 runs. Banged out 28 hits. Won both games. Why? Well, Tim Wallach,
of course. The Dodgers' new hitting coach has made an immediate
impact by implementing a drill called HIT THE FUCKING BALL. Unveiled
last week, Wallach's drill involves following a complicated series
of steps whereby a batter stands at the plate and HITS THE FUCKING
BALL. First, players are given a bat. They then stand in the batter's
box, at which time a pitch is thrown to them. If the pitch is over
the plate, they're instructed to HIT THE FUCKING BALL. While the
FCC has expressed concern over the name of Wallach's drill, Jim
Tracy is thrilled that the Dodgers are suddenly able to HIT THE
FUCKING BALL. News of Wallach's success quickly spread to Frank
McCourt's office... Frank wasn't actually in his office, and his
son, playing with legos on the floor, refused comment. Nonetheless,
rumors are swirling that Wallach will soon receive a contract extension.
Job security, however, won't stop Tim from pushing the envelope.
He's already working on other innovative drills such as DON'T FUCKING
SWING WHEN THE GODDAMN BALL BOUNCES and TAKE A FUCKING PITCH ONCE
IN A WHILE, JACKASS. Good for Tim.