> OCTOBER 2004

Halloween sucks. It's a ridiculous day that far too many people seem overly concerned with. That said, if you're going to waste your time and money on a costume, at least do it right. If you're planning on dressing up as a clown, a whore, or Donald Trump, look elsewhere for advice. If you're interested in dressing up as Mike Venafro, however, you've come to the right place. Here are our Halloween costume tips:

Jose Lima costume
The keys to a good Lima costume are the facial hair and wife with huge cans. Make sure to eat tons of candy before going trick-or-treating. High-five everyone you pass on the street. If someone gives you a really huge Snickers bar, pump your fist and spin around. Wear blue contact lenses. Sing the National Anthem occasionally. Find a girl with enormous cans to walk alongside you.

Shawn Green costume
You should be tall to pull this one off, or at least skinny. Shawn Green is perfect for someone with an eating disorder or someone without much personality. Make sure your hair is grown out and slightly disheveled... in a sort of "I'm trying to be cool even though I'm not" way. Same goes for the sunglasses. When you knock on someone's door, speak very quietly. In fact, it's best not to speak at all. After you get candy, make sure to check with your mom to see if you can eat it.

Rick Monday costume
If you're over 50, this one is for you. Wear an overcoat. Don't sleep for days ahead of time to create authentic bags under your eyes. When you knock on someone's door, don't say "trick or treat." Instead, say "Doorbell, I ask for... treating you, for Halloween, a night of tricking... treating..." or something like that. Be sure to confuse anyone you meet. It may help to drink ahead of time. If you see any flags, save them.

Eric Gagne costume
This one requires preparation. A couple weeks ahead of time, allow your dog to take a shit in your Dodger hat. Put the hat in a plastic bag, adding some vinegar and asparagus, and keep it in the garage until the last minute. Put your uniform on a few days ahead of time. Spill food on it. On the day of, put on your goatee and goggles, and run 10 miles to get a nice festering stink going under your arms. When trick-or-treating, talk endlessly about hockey and Canada. Keep your jersey partially untucked, and when people open their front door for you, throw 98-mph fastballs at them. (Best to go along with someone in a Kim Ng costume, who would tell you the pitch was only 96-mph).

Jim Tracy costume
If you're a tall Norweigan guy, this is the costume for you. Really, though, it's all in the way you carry yourself. When walking up to trick-or-treat, walk like you've just taken a dump in your pants, and make sure to rub your chin halfway to the front door. To be the best Jim Tracy you can be, wait until someone has given away all their candy, and then approach their house. Make sure to talk to yourself a lot: "Do I like costumes? Do I enjoy M&Ms? Am I encouraged by what I've seen of jack-o-lantern carving in this particular neighborhood? Yes. Do I think that these jack-o-lanterns are the best I've ever seen? Well, I've seen a lot of jack-o-lanterns."

Wilson Alvarez costume
Free candy!!! Free candy!!! This is Wilson Alvarez's favorite night. Put on a pair of thick eyebrows, stick a couple pillows under your number 47 jersey, and get as much free candy as you can. If someone doesn't want the Reeses Peanut Butter Cups they dropped on the ground, take them. If someone is afraid to eat the brownie wrapped in plastic wrap that the crazy old lady on the corner put in their bag, take it. If someone answers their door, but then has to go take a phone call, leaving their basket of gummy worms unattended, take the whole goddamn thing and run... but not too fast (remember, you weigh 340).

Kazuhisa Ishii costume
Wear a couple pairs of boxers under your baseball pants so as to give the impression you're wearing diapers. Pull your pants up extremely high, and tug them even higher after each piece of candy you get. Using makeup, create a bruise on your forehead in the shape of a baseball. Make sure not to bunt successfully.

Milton Bradley costume
Walk around like you're the shit. Remain calm, but if someone happens to give you one of those goddamn mini Tootsie Rolls, go apeshit. Walk over and slam the Tootsie Roll at their feet. Scream at them. Smash their pumpkin with your fist. Walk away and rip off your clothes. Violently empty everything in your bag all over their lawn. Throw a pack of Lifesavers down the street. Return the next day and apologize.

October 27, 2004
Let's be Frank: the curse has been passed

Put on your pajamas and crawl into bed, because we have a little story to tell. It's a story of a man whose family had been part of the Boston landscape for almost four generations. It's a story of a man who was born in Boston, grew up in Boston, and eventually raised a family in Boston. It's a story of a man who loves the Boston Red Sox. For years, the man was a season ticket holder at Fenway Park. In fact, the man even tried to buy the franchise a few years back. For the first 48 years of the man's life—and stretching back another 38 years—the Red Sox never won it all. They choked, they failed, they folded. They got close, but they never won the World Series. Then something happened just before the 2004 season. Despite not being able to afford it, the man purchased the Los Angeles Dodgers, a storied franshise itself. With his business now 3,000 miles away, the man packed up and headed West. After 48 years, the man left Boston. Seven months later, the Boston Red Sox became World Champions. All this time Boston fans were whining about the Curse of the Bambino. All they were really cursed with, however, was the McCourt Family. The McCourts left, the Red Sox won. Pretty simple. And for Dodger fans, pretty disgusting. The City of Los Angeles has been McCursed, and there's nothing we can do about it. The next 70 years should be a blast.

October 26, 2004
An arm rewarded, an elbow contorted

On a day when one Dodger was rewarded for his arm, another was given reason to worry about his. Eric Gagne's arm bordered on bionic again in 2004, and just like a porn star, the accolades keep coming. On Tuesday the Sporting News named Gagne the National League Reliever of the Year for the second consecutive season. Apparently the Sporting News was willing to overlook the fact that Gagne blew two saves and had a 4.24 ERA in August. (We, of course, don't forget about that). Mourning over the NHL strike, Gagne was too distraught to comment. Meanwhile, Jayson Werth learned that he has a partially torn ligament in his elbow. Werth apparently sustained the injury during Game One of the Division Series as he tried to throw Scott Rolen out at the plate. We believe he worsened the injury shaking hands with every goddamn Cardinal after Game Four. If the injury doesn't improve in the next month while Werth is sitting on his ass at home in Illinois, Werth would undergo Tommy John surgery. The 25-year-old outfielder, however, told MLB.com that he's confident he'll be O.K.: "We're doing deep massage, all kinds of things." Werth didn't explain what he meant by "all kinds of things," but Dodger Blues has learned that it includes touching the ceiling with his tongue, playing with his cracked rip through his chest, and juggling with maracas he stole from Jose Lima's locker. Frankly, his time would best be spent coming up with a new use for that 'y' in his name.

October 22, 2004
Monday, bloody Monday

Whether they've done it just to spite us or because they actually think it's the right move, the Dodgers officially announced changes to their broadcast team on Friday. The announcement confirms the scenario we suspected but refused to believe: Ross Porter is gone and Rick Monday stays. No announcement was made on a replacement for Porter, but Executive VP Lon Rosen said they would be adding a play-by-play guy and a baseball analyst. We're not sure if they consider Monday a play-by-play guy (since he's actually a play-by-every-other-play guy), but there will be two new voices on the air beginning in March. According to Rosen, "the organization is focused on taking its on-air format in exciting, new directions." And you do that by keeping Rick "Bundles of Energy" Monday on the air? That's like saying your baby means everything to you, and then immediately putting him in a carseat made of aluminum foil. Or saying you only eat at the best restaurants, and then having dinner at Coco's. Or obsessing about germs, and then picking a booger out of someone else's nose. It makes no sense. There isn't a person on Earth (other than Al Downing) who is duller than Rick Monday. His dullness is exceeded only by the amount of flapping skin under his neck. Maybe his lack of personality would be bearable if he could just explain what the hell was going on in the game. But he can't. From listening to him call a game, you wouldn't even think he's at the stadium. It really makes us question whether Rosen & Company have ever even listened to a Monday broadcast. If they have, it makes us question how qualified these people are to be making the decisions for a major league baseball team. In getting rid of Porter, it also makes us question whether Frank McCourt is as committed to the fans as he claims. We've already had one owner with no respect for Dodger tradition or Dodger fans. McCourt says he's different (Porter might have a statistic on how many times he's said so), but tossing Ross out on the street after 28 years with the organization is straight out of the Fox handbook on how to run a baseball team. Whether you'll miss the guy or not, the loss of Ross is not a good sign. But consider it a warning. Don't be shocked in a couple months when Dodger Stadium becomes Bacardi Field.

October 20, 2004
Former Dodgers help Sox prevail

This isn't a Red Sox site, so you're not going to get a story about the curse, about Curt Schilling's bloody ankle, or about how fucking amazing the ALCS was. We won't say anything about the 6-hour game on Monday, A-Rod's horseshit slap on Tuesday, or Johnny Damon's unlikey slam on Wednesday. The Yankees are dead, and former Dodgers are to thank (well, along with God, if you talk to Curt Schilling). It was Paul Quantrill who gave up David Ortiz's walk-off blast on Monday, it was Gary Sheffield who blew a couple plays in right field over the course of the series, and it was Kevin Brown who got his surly ass clobbered in two horrible starts. Is it a little sick to take pleasure in the failure of former Dodgers? Probably. Do we care? Absolutely not. Over the last decade or so, there haven't been two guys with the Dodgers who were bigger assholes than Brown and Sheffield. And there probably hasn't been a nicer guy than Dave Roberts—who scored the tying runs for Boston on Sunday and Monday. You don't like to see a guy get booed off the field by his home crowd, but if it's got to happen to anyone, it might as well be Kevin Brown. Look, it's late October, and all is quiet in Chavez Ravine—just like it has been for the last sixteen years. As Dodger fans, we needed something. This week, we got it. Paul Quantrill tagged with a loss. Kevin Brown being yanked in the second inning. Gary Sheffield going home without another ring. And the best news of all: the Dodgers declined their option on Elmer Dessens.

October 18, 2004
You can call him Al—just don't call him Porter's replacement

The Yankees might be in the postseason for the 23rd consecutive year, the Cardinals might have a lineup more potent than any in recent memory, and the Astros might have an entire team full of guys whose last names start with 'B', but Dodger fans still have one thing to be very proud of: Vin Scully. Although these days he seems more focused on the kids in the stands than the guys on the field, Vin is still in a class by himself. While he's set the bar incredibly high for baseball broadcasters throughout the county, there are no fans with higher standards than Dodger fans. Listening to Scully for the last 85 years, we've become very accustomed to listening to the best. That's why Rick Monday is so goddamn bad. And it's why we've got to put our foot down and demand that the Dodgers not hire Al Downing to replace Ross Porter. First of all, letting go of Porter is a mistake—let us go on the record as saying that. Ross is no picnic to look at, but the guy can call a game. Letting go of Porter in favor of Rick Monday is an even bigger mistake. Hiring Al Downing to round out the broadcasting team—which seems to be a possibility—would be a colossal friggin' mistake. If Rick Monday and Al Downing are calling games next season, there's going to be a shitload of people bashing out their own teeth with the radio dial. We all know about Monday. Downing is equally as boring, plus he believes he knows everything there is to know about baseball. If that's the case, though, what happened on April 8th, 1974 in Atlanta, Al? Explain that one, Al. Nothing to say, Al? If you ever heard Al when he used to host Dodger talk, you'd know how big that guy's head is. Every listener was beneath him, every question was stupid. We hate Al Downing. You should too. Go Red Sox.

October 14, 2004
They blow, we bestow

For much of the second half of the 2004 season, fans at Dodger Stadium chanted "MVP, MVP..." every time Adrian Beltre came to bat. Don't be surprised, however, if next season you hear chants of "MDA, MDA" or "EKA, EKA." See, aren't you a little tired of the MVP award? Or the Rookie of the Year award? Manager of the Year? All boring awards. They've been around forever. It's time for something new. It's time for the first annual Dodger Blues Awards. Here goes...

The Carlos Perez Award (for the best temper tantrum): No surprise here. This one goes to Milton Bradley, who had not one, but two great tantrums in 2004. Bradley tossed dozens of balls on the field early in the season, and then went nuts on fans in late September, hurling a bottle into the stands and ripping off his jersey. Bradley didn't touch the water cooler, but Carlos Perez would be proud nonetheless.

The Sonia LoDuca Award (for the hottest wife appearance): Jose Lima's wife has enormous knockers, but this award goes to the woman the award is named after: Sonia LoDuca. Though pregnant at the time and the wife of someone no longer a Dodger, Sonia attended the Marlins/Dodgers series in mid-August looking hot as ever. (Nothing against Jo Lasorda, of course.)

The Jose Gonzalez/F.P. Santangelo Award (for the least productive pinch-hitter): Jason Grabowski, picked up just before the season started, led the National League in pinch-hit at-bats in 2004. He didn't lead the league in pinch-hits, though. He probably should have been sent down to double-A in July since he didn't seem to make contact after that.

The Steve Garvey Award (for the hairiest guy on the team): The 2004 Dodgers didn't seem to be a particularly hairy bunch, but the award goes to Giovanni Carrara.

The Mariano Duncan Award (for the biggest 'fro): Without a doubt, Odalis Perez wins the 2004 Mariano Duncan Award. Odalis didn't get a haircut all season, and that bird's nest just got greasier and nastier as the year progressed. Too bad it didn't scare the Cardinals like it scares us.

The Mike Marshall Award (for the biggest pussy): The Dodgers didn't have too many hypochondriacs in '04, so the award goes to Jamie McCourt, who wore sunglasses for a month because her eye itched a little bit.

The Bill Russell Award (for the guy with the least personality): This was a close one. Shawn Green was a definite candidate, but actually showed emotion after Steve Finley's home run. So, the Bill Russell Award goes to Hideo Nomo, who is empty inside.

The Joey Eischen Award (for the guy most likely to be a white supremacist): We're not saying he's a white supremacist, but Jeff Weaver easily wins this one. His hair is very blond, and he grew up in Simi Valley. (Runner up is Scott Stewart.)

The Dave Stewart Award (for biggest off-the-field embarrassment): On September 8th, the Dodgers took their annual team photo. The one guy who perhaps meant the most to the team, however, was stuck in traffic. Being stuck on the freeway can hardly be compared to being caught in a car with a transvestite hooker, but it's the best we can do. Award goes to Adrian Beltre.

The Eric Karros Award (for grounding into the most double-plays): Though a far cry from the 27 double-plays that Eric Karros grounded into in 1996, the award goes to Shawn Green, who grounded into 17. Seems like more, doesn't it?

The Don Aase Award (for the guy with the highest percentage of vowels in his last name): With vowels comprising 60% of his last name, Kaz Ishii gets the Don Aase Award. It should be noted that Ishii takes the award with the repitition of just a single letter—quite an accomplishment.

The Tyler Houston Award (for the worst late-season pick-up): This one is awarded to big Hee-Seop Choi. While Hee-Seop did draw a bases-loaded walk just before Finley hit his NL West-clinching grand slam, the guy was a total bust. Brad Penny certainly didn't contibute any more than Choi did, but at least Choi had the opportunity to prove himself. All he proved was that he didn't deserve to have any more at-bats.

The Darren Dreifort Award (for the biggest waste of money): Todd Hundley earned $7 million in 2004. Well, maybe 'earned' is the wrong word. Actually, 'earned' is probably the worst word. Hundley spent the entire year on the DL, and made more money than Eric Gagne.

The Rick Monday Award (for either the most confusing quote or for a guy who saves the flag): Since no one saved the flag in 2004, the Rick Monday Award goes to Jim Tracy, who, on June 2nd, was quoted as saying, "For what reason? For being ejected for what you don't feel, due to the action that took place, is indicative of the fact of action that's solely the player? I saw things out of the ordinary out there." Holy shit, Jim.

The Fred Claire Award (for a guy with grey hair and a high-pitched voice): Shockingly, the award goes to Frank McCourt. Though his hair is curlier than Fred Claire's, they both have that "I've been kicked in the nuts too many times" voice.

The Robinson Checo Award (for the guy least likely to be remembered two years from now): This was a toss-up between Jose Flores and Brian Falkenborg, but Falkenborg gets it. Flores has a bright future as a minor-league pinch-runner, but Falkenborg's future has 'cab driver' written all over it. What, you don't remember Robinson Checo?

October 11, 2004
Beat up and bruised, the exodus begins

Now that your Olmedo Saenz fantasies won't be coming true (no, not the fantasy where Olmedo takes your wife in the shower—the fantasy where Olmedo wins the 7th game of the World Series with a ninth-inning grand slam off Mariano Rivera), we can all move on with our lives. The offseason has officially begun for the Dodgers, as have the departures. After hitting the ball about nine feet in the eighth inning Sunday, Robin Ventura became the first to go, announcing his retirement after the game. The Dodgers may miss his quiet veteran leadership, fans may miss his grand slams, and girls may miss his surfer-dude looks, but we'll miss just one thing: having excuses to show this picture. Truly classic. (Nolan Ryan pounded him so hard, he knocked the T off his uniform.) As for the rest of the Dodgers, a lot is up in the air. Will they re-sign Odalis Perez? (Fat chance.) Will they re-sign Adrian Beltre? (Do they have a choice?) Will they re-sign Steve Finley? (For what he'll make, don't bet on it.) Will they dump Milton Bradley? (For what he's making, don't bet on it.) Will Paul DePodesta find a taker for Hee-Seop Choi? (Maybe a Korean BBQ in need of meat.) Will Paul DePodesta have a change of heart and give Jim Tracy the boot? (No.) Will Jim Tracy have a change of underpants and get some new boots? (Huh?) Will David Ross learn how to make contact during the offseason? (Contact with James Van Der Beek, his long lost brother, perhaps.) Will Frank McCourt sell naming rights to Dodger Stadium? (To the Yankees, maybe.) Will Wilson Alvarez be able to squeeze through the clubhouse door? (With some grease and a shove, maybe.) Will the Dodgers add another Jim to the coaching staff? (Are there any more Jims to add?) Will Rick Monday pull up at a McDonald's drive-thru and confuse the poor girl taking his order? (Absolutely.) Will the Dodgers make a colossal goddamn mistake and choose Monday over Ross Porter? (Sadly, it could happen.) Will anyone in the City of Los Angeles shed a tear that Todd Hundley is finally gone? (No, but he'll be back in 2006.) Finally, will Dodger Blues ever post any new look-alikes? (Hey, get off our friggin' back, Jack... Fimple.)

October 10, 2004
Well, that one was for the birds

In a year that has been so improbable, the inevitable has happened. Hopes have been dashed. Dreams have been shattered. Prayers have gone unanswered. Odalis Perez crashed, Wilson Alvarez was bashed, and Albert Poo-holes mashed. The Dodgers lived an extra day, but only to tease their fans. The Dodgers won their first playoff game in sixteen years on Saturday, building confidence, restoring faith, and getting us thinking—against our better judgement—that the Dodgers could come back. Well, so much for that. And all it took was a 3-1 fastball. That's what Wilson Alvarez served up to Albert Poo-holes in the fourth inning, and Poo-holes deposited it into the stands. The home run gave the Cardinals a three run lead, and the Dodgers, well, they gave up. Threw in the towel. Waved the white flag. Took off their cleats. Turned off the lights. Closed the blinds. Shut down the engines. Gave up. You'd think that for a team with 53 come-from-behind wins, a three run deficit in the fourth inning wouldn't seem insurmountable. You'd think that, but you'd be wrong. The Dodger equipment manager might as well have packed their bats for the winter. After Poo-holes' home run, the Dodgers didn't get a single hit for the next five innings. And only one hit the rest of the game. You talk about packing it in. There you go. The Dodgers proved so many people wrong by hanging in there all year and winning the West, and their tank finally hits empty—in the middle of Game Four? This is how it ends? It ends with strikeouts, pop-ups, and groundouts? It ends with a shitty call at first base in the late innings and Jim Tracy not even bothering to come out and argue? It ends with the fans still waving their thundersticks (albeit half-heartedly), but the Dodgers refusing to wave theirs? That's crappy. Maybe not as crappy as Odalis Perez, though. As aggressive, confident, and energetic as Jose Lima was during his miraculous shutout on Saturday, Odalis was the opposite. Odalis is the anti-Lima. The Dodgers are on the verge of elimination, and Perez (or 'Pair-ez' according to the Fox schmucks) is dragging himself around, picking at the corners, and walking the house. Goodbye, Odalis. Goodnight, Dodgers.

October 9, 2004
Sweet 16: Dodgers' streak is completely over

When Rick Dempsey embraced Orel Hershiser after the final out of the 1988 World Series, few people knew that most Dodger fans would grow old and die before seeing the team win another playoff game. It took sixteen years, but it finally happened. Completely. Jose Lima pitched an improbable complete game shutout on Saturday, picking the Dodgers up and sending the Divsion Series to Game Four. Improbable, because he was facing the mighty bats of the St. Louis Cardinals. Improbable, because the Dodgers had been humiliated in games one and two. Improbable, because pitchers don't pitch complete games anymore. Seeing a Dodger starting pitcher on the mound in the 9th is like seeing Brent Mayne in a weight room. We've never said it before, and we'll never say it again, but that was a nice move by Jim Tracy. Jose Lima, pumped as ever, was brilliant when the Dodgers needed nothing less. Lima spotted the Cardinals just five hits, and gave 55,992 people reason to leave happy—until, of course, they have to sit in their cars for three hours before they get out of the parking lot. It was a night of firsts: The Dodgers first postseason win since '88, Brent Mayne's first intentional walk, and Shawn Green's first time coming up big in a big game. Green hit two solo shots, padding the 2-run lead the Dodgers took in the third (when they actually took advantage of a bad call that went their way). A good night for the Dodgers, but a long way to go. Get excited if you must, but before you cancel your mid-October vacation to Fresno, keep in mind the Dodgers have to do this two more times. Not a single postseason victory for sixteen years, and now they need three in a row. They need huge games from Odalis Perez and Jeff Weaver. They need Adrian Beltre to be the guy with 48 home runs, and not the guy he's been the past week. They need more shitty calls from the umpires. They need Scott Rolen, Jim Edmonds, Larry Walker, and Albert Poo-holes to eat bad chinese food before the game. But more than anything, they need Jose Lima's heart, balls, and crazy beard thing.

October 7, 2004
Anal rape, take two

Tickets for the NLCS go on sale Friday morning at Dodger Stadium. It's hard to believe, however, that anyone other than the guy handing out wristbands will show up. The Dodgers were overmatched again on Thursday, although this time by Reggie Sanders, Mike Matheny, Edgar Rentaria, and Tony Womack. You'd think that keeping Walker, Poo-holes, Edmonds, and Rolen quiet would give you a pretty good shot at winning... but you'd be wrong. The Cardinals' 6-7-8 hitters went 8-for-10 with 5 RBIs. Meanwhile, the Dodgers' entire lineup had just six hits. Even Cardinal reliever Danny Haren came within feet of hitting a 3-run homer—on Duaner Sanchez's first pitch. By that time, the score was 6-3, and the Dodgers were well on their way to their 8th consecutive loss in the playoffs, a streak stretching back long enough that we barely remember their last win. The Dodgers actually led for a full inning on Thursday (a miracle in itself), but by the bottom of the second were down 3-1. They had one brief look at the game in the fourth, but Steve Finely flied out with the bases loaded. That fly ball would have done the job last Saturday against the Giants, but did nothing but end the inning on Thursday. We could bitch about Jim Tracy leaving Jeff Weaver in the game too long (after all, Tony La Russa pulled Jason Marquis after he had given up just three runs), but what's the goddamn point? We could rip on Tracy for taking out Wilson Alvarez after he gave up one hit (replacing him with a righty who would proceed to give up two hits to righties), but what's the goddamn point? There's no point. It doesn't matter. The Dodgers don't even seem to realize that they're in the playoffs, which is fine, because in a matter of days they won't be. The Cardinals are a great team, but they did lose fifty-seven games this season. They're beatable. All teams are. But you've got to want to beat them. For a self-professed "never-say-die" ballclub, the Dodgers seem to be saying the word: dead. Eight years we waited. Shawn Green might say it's frustrating, but how long has he been with the team? Odalis Perez might say it's disappointing, but for how many years has he been disappointed? Frank McCourt, Paul DePodesta, and Jim Tracy might take it hard, but how deep does their pain truly run? Players, coaches, and owners come and go. Dodger fans, however—at least the ones who show up before the third inning—have been here for the long haul. With the Dodgers on the verge of being swept in the postseason yet again, it's a haul that truly sucks. Especially when Tom Wilson doesn't get in the game.

October 5, 2004
Tom and Scary

There's a scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indiana Jones is confronted by a man in black with a giant sword. The guy proudly waves the sword around and laughs evily. Unimpressed, Indy pulls out his gun and nonchalantly shoots the guy. Well, the Cardinals are Indy and the Dodgers are the dead Egyptian man. The Dodgers came into the Division Series on a high, having knocked off the Giants in dramatic fashion. Proud of their "never say die" attitude and fifty-three come-from-behind wins, the Dodgers arrived in St. Louis with an air of confidence and a swagger in their step. The Cardinal response: "Yeah, but we can homer." Might as well have been a bullet in the chest. The Cardinals hit five home runs on Tuesday, a rude welcome to a team getting its playoff feet wet for the first time in eight years. After it was over, not only were the Dodgers' feet wet, so were their ankles, knees, crotch, and chest. How much longer can they keep their head above water? That remains to be seen, but dropping the first game in a best-of-five series doesn't bode well... especially when you get humiliated in the process. It's not just a loss, it's an embarassment. Odalis Perez got shelled, the Dodger offense was silent, and Jim Tracy managed to waste his entire pitching staff. After a couple days of high hopes and excitement, Dodger fans were splashed with a big dose of reality on Tuesday. Starting to remember what it's like to be a Dodger fan, huh? If anything good came out of Tuesday's game, however, it was the confirmation that we at Dodger Blues are true geniuses. We may have gotten the date wrong, but did we not predict yesterday that Tom Wilson would hit a home run off Jason Isringhausen? The dude had two hits for the Dodgers this season, and we predict he homers off one of the premier closers in baseball... and it happens the next day. There's still some magic after all.

October 4, 2004
The crystal ball says... this chick is hot

On the eve of the Dodgers' first postseason game since 1997, it's time to turn to the Dodger Blues crystal ball. OK, fine, it's actually plastic. Nonetheless, we've pulled it out from the back of the closet, wiped off the boogers, and turned down the lights. Oops, there's another booger. Anyway, here's the crystal ball's predictions for the Division Series:

Tuesday - Wanting to keep his players fresh for the World Series and knowing a right-hander is pitching, Jim Tracy will rest Adrian Beltre, Jayson Werth, and Steve Finley (apparently unaware that Finley bats lefty). Woody Williams will strike out the side in the first inning, amazingly on just seven pitches. After being called out on strikes, Milton Bradley will remove his shoes, throwing one into the Cardinal dugout and one at the St. Louis Gateway Arch. Odalis Perez will pitch 6 strong innings, giving up two runs (one on a line drive that gets lost in his hair), and will leave with the score tied (the Dodgers' two runs coming on two inside-the-park homers by Cesar Izturis). After Woody Williams is pulled in favor of a lefty, Jim Tracy will pinch hit for Shawn Green. The Cardinals will set a Division Series record by scoring nine times in the eighth inning, all nine coming off of Mike Venafro. After the Cardinals' eighth consecutive hit, Tracy will finally decide to get someone up in the bullpen. Down 11-2 in the ninth, the Dodgers will rally back, tying the game on Tom Wilson's pinch-hit grand slam. Yhency Brazoban will keep the Cardinals scoreless through the 12th, when Tom Wilson's second home run of the day will give the Dodgers a 12-11 lead. Eric Gagne will then start the bottom of the 12th by walking the bases full... and then striking out Albert Puljols, Jim Edmonds, and Larry Walker for the save. Dodgers 12, Cardinals 11. Player of the game: Jason Grabowski.

Thursday - Jason Marquis will strike out the side in the first inning, amazingly on just four pitches. Jeff Weaver will pitch two innings, without giving up a hit, but will be pulled in the third by Tracy after the Dodgers get two guys on base. Pinch-hitter Odalis Perez will then be asked to bunt. The Dodgers, meanwhile, won't get a guy on base until Alex Cora gets hit in the face with a pitch in the seventh inning. Later that inning, Milton Bradley will be ejected after deficating on second base... and then throwing the base into the stands. With the game still scoreless, Mike Venafro will start the eighth inning by giving up back-to-back-to-back homers to Mike Matheny, Jason Marquis, and Tony Womack. Down 3-0 going into the ninth, the Dodgers will load the bases with one out. Adrian Beltre will pop out on the first pitch, but Tom Wilson (pinch-hitting for Shawn Green) will hit a grand slam to give the Dodgers the lead. Eric Gagne will give up six hits in the 9th, but Tom Wilson—playing the outfield for the first time in his career—will throw out three runners at the plate. Dodgers 4, Cardinals 3. Player of the game: Jason Grabowski.

Saturday - Back home, the Dodgers will celebrate with two hits over the first eight innings—both bunt singles by Olmedo Saenz. Saenz, who has more grey hair than any other 33-year-old Panamanian man on Earth, will also steal three bases. Milton Bradley, playing in front of his hometown fans for the first time since his beer-bottle freak-out, will wear horse blinders in the field. Jose Lima, pitching for the Dodgers, will have to leave the game in the fifth inning after smashing his nose on the TV camera. Mike Venafro will be brought in, only to give up back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back triples... followed by two home runs and another triple. Down 6-0 going into the bottom of the ninth, the Dodgers will rally to within one. With two outs and nobody on, Mike Davis will walk. And look who's coming up: Tom Wilson. After working the count to 3-and-2, Wilson will again supply the magic, hitting Jason Isringhausen's pitch halfway up the bleachers in left, killing a fan in the midst of starting the wave, but propelling the Dodgers to the NLCS. Player of the game: Jason Grabowski.

Dodgers in three. Series MVP: Robin Ventura.

October 3, 2004
Future stars don't shine too bright

If the guys on the field for the Dodgers on Sunday represented the team's future, let's hope they win in the present. A lineup sporting names like Jose Flores and Jason Grabowski wasn't much of a match for Jason Schmidt, who overwhelmed the Dodgers for six innings. Three Giant relievers spotted the Dodgers just a hit over the final three innings, and the Dodgers lost big, 10-0. There were no flashes of magic for the Dodgers, but there was a flash on the scoreboard that meant everything to the Giants in the fourth inning: HOU 5, COL 3, F. With two guys on base in the fourth, the Giants' postseason hopes were officially declared dead. Twenty runs couldn't have saved them on Sunday. The Dodgers' magical win on Saturday was a kick to the Giants' groin. Houston's win on Sunday shot them in the heart. Buh-bye, then. See you in April. Enjoy your winter. Enjoy your recurring nightmares about 9th inning walks, errors, and Steve Finley's fists in the air. Barry Bonds might have a .900 OBP, but while the Dodgers are in St. Louis on Tuesday, the Giants will be in the same place as the Brewers, Devil Rays, and D'Backs: home. For the Dodgers, it was a season of improbables, unspeakables, and unfathomables. Improbable: a team assembled at the last minute hung on to first place most of the season. Unspeakable: Lo Duca, Roberts, Mota... gone. Unfathomable: one comeback after another, culminating with the biggest of all. The frustration was there as always, but this time the traditional pain and disappointment of another season gone bad was replaced with the excitement and amazement of a season gone right. There's no telling what awaits the Dodgers in St. Louis (well, we've got our predictions), but for the moment, no one is singing the Blues.

October 2, 2004
Champagne on the Giants' deathbed

Would the Dodgers have it any other way? Going in to the bottom of the ninth, it looked like the Dodgers were dead. They were barely breathing, and already showing signs of rigormortis. A couple walks, a couple hits, and a grand slam later, however, the Dodgers had turned the tables. Let's get one thing straight right now though: Steve Finley's grand slam is NOT going to replace the Kirk Gibson home run counter. They won the West, not the goddamn World Series. That said, pretty incredible fucking day. Wait... did did this really just happen? Did something good just happen to the Dodgers? Did Hee-Seop Choi actually walk with the bases loaded? Did the the Dodgers just come from three runs behind in the ninth to clinch the West? Are we dreaming? (Well, Sonia Lo Duca isn't lying naked on the couch at the Dodger Blues offices—a.k.a living room—so apparently we're not dreaming.) Frankly, we don't even know what to say. Just totally goddamn floored. Not only did the Dodgers win, they may have just slammed the door on the Giants (over-used pun intended). Another Giant loss or Houston win is all it'll take to keep those schmucks out of the postseason. But let's talk about our schmucks. Our schmucks, who refuse to swing the bat before the ninth inning. Our schmucks, who don't give up. Our schmucks, who are out to prove that Jim Tracy isn't as stupid as most of us think. Our schmucks, who ruined the story we had already written for the loss that didn't happen on Saturday (hey, we had to be prepared). Our schmucks, the Champions of the West. Not only champions, but champions over San Francisco—over a team that was undoubtedly already preparing for Sunday's game. Poor, poor Giants. A 3-run lead, an error, a bullpen collapse, a game-tying hit off a former Dodgers, a walk-off slam... we couldn't ask for anything more. The amazement of seeing Shawn Green jump in joy was almost equaled by the joy of seeing the Giants sitting there in the dugout, stunned and embarassed. It was the Dodgers' 53rd come-from-behind win of the season. With fifty-three come-from-behind wins, most of them in the late innings, it's tough not to think this is a team of destiny. Teams don't do what the Dodgers have been doing... espcially overcoming what the Dodgers seemingly have (the Trade, horrible starting pitching, countless injuries, bad managerial decisions, Bradley's suspension, etc.). Teams don't come back from deficits of four runs and three runs in the ninth—in the same week. It's a fantasy. It's crazy. Even when they look like crap for eight innings, they look like gold when it matters. How can you argue with success? (Don't worry, we'll find a way.) Now let's talk Sunday. With a win, the Dodgers would destroy San Francisco's wild-card hopes. A Houston win would do it as well. It's going to take a magical effort from guys like Chin-Feng Chen and Jose Flores, who figure to play tomorrow, but magic is nothing the Dodgers are short on these days. Now if the magician would just work on that Sonia Lo Duca thing...

October 1, 2004
Oh the sorrow—and Elmer tomorrow?

The Dodgers certainly know how to turn excitement into depression. After Thursday's 11-inning victory over Colorado, it looked like things were meant to be. They had momentum, they had confidence, they had.... well, who cares what they had. Here's what they have: a big goddamn problem. It was easy for the Dodgers to say, "Well, we just have to win one out of three." But after losing Friday, it's now one out of two. And with Elmer Dessens going for the Dodgers on Saturday (the equivalent of choosing a blind monkey with a fear of heights to fly you across the Atlantic), you know it'll come down to Sunday. And with the Giants having then won the first two games, the Dodgers task will be painfully tough. The Dodgers may have put together some magical wins of late, but when's the last time they actually looked good for an entire game? They looked like total shit against Kirk Reuter (the man with the worst hair in baseball), and put up little fight against the Giants' bullpen. Shawn Green grounded out for the 200th time this season, and then ended the game with a feeble strikeout. Meanwhile, Marquis Grissom was Friday's answer to the question, "Which former Dodger will fuck us tonight?" Grissom doubled in two runs in the second inning, and that set the tone. But let's get back to this Elmer Dessens garbage. The fact that a guy who wasn't good enough to stay in the Arizona Diamondbacks' rotation is starting for the Dodgers in what's now the biggest game of the season is truly pathetic, if not disgraceful. It does, however, prove our theory that Jim Tracy's decision-making process pretty much involves drawing names out of a bucket. The Dodgers' only hope is that Tracy somehow gets his head stuck in that bucket and interim manager Jim Riggleman sends Robin Ventura to the mound instead. It would be funny, only that it's not funny. Elmer Dessens has a 7.68 ERA as a starter this season. That's better than Hideo Nomo's ERA, but that's like saying it's better to get run over by a Sparkletts truck than by a bus. After Saturday, you'll want to get run over by both.