(Either a bobblehead of Manny Ramirez or D'Artagnan with Matt Kemp)
Calling to Mind the Seagulls of Finding Nemo
By Mike Takeuchi
Los Angeles- In my profession, my colleagues and I are sometimes met with sneered disdain and a few labels- “liberalmedia” (conservatives), “effingmedia” (baseball clubhouse workers), or “whatsupguys?” (the players to a crowd that includes a few women) not in Webster's Collegiate Dictionary. On the extreme, other terms of endearment include names that are unprintable unless one is working in the pornographic industry or addressing a well-known Los Angeles Times sports columnist.
I must admit, when we are not shills for the teams we cover, some of us act in a certain way that sometimes justify names like jackals and others that are bestowed upon us. After observing my brethren on Wednesday's Dodgers game against the Pittsburgh Pirates, aka Manny Ramirez bobblehead day, add one more to the list-seagulls.
Like the hilarious scavenger sea birds from “Finding Nemo” (“Mine! Mine! Mine!”) reporters will take anything for free. If it's a three-day old donut with two bites taken out of it, I kid you not, it will be gone as soon as nobody's looking-true story.
One nationally known sportswriter (who I will not name because as in the locker room, there is sanctity in the press box) takes the free hot dogs (oops I mean Dodger Dogs) David, the wonderful chef puts out and stuffs them into his jacket pocket. With his salary and probable per diem, one would figure that he could afford to buy himself dinner. But then again, in this day and age of journalistic downsizing, you never know. Still, it called to mind when former Lakers' player and current Minnesota Timberwolves coach Kurt Rambis would fill his gym bag with the waters and juices provided in the locker room.
Despite an expected across-the-board 20% decrease in attendance, the fourth such promotion by the Dodgers would of course, be sold out. The first three, Casey Blake, a batting Ramirez (which original sponsor Kaiser Permanente opted out of due to the slugger's suspension for PED's), and Matt Kemp, were filled or nearly filled to capacity. And now “Curtain Call Manny”, a statuette celebrating the sixth inning game winning grand slam he hit on July 22, the giveaway date of his first bobblehead, was no different.
With everyone wanting to receive a figurine that more resembles D'Artagnan from Dumas' “The Three Musketeers” in a pose straight out of the musical “A Chorus Line”, the game was sold out. Being in the middle of the week in September, people took off work, pulled their kids from school to receive one of the prize bauble-heads. I was no different, thanks to Jon Chapper of the Dodgers media department who found three duckets for me to buy (yes I paid) to go to the game with my friends Trent and Jeff and hang out with my buddy Polo Ascencio. But I also had to get a credential to interview two Pirates players who are from (pitcher Virgil Vasquez) and lived in (Delwyn Young) Santa Barbara.
After sitting in Loge section 145 for the first four innings, I got up to go to the press box-partially to get cooled by air conditioning, partly to get away from the shrill voice sitting behind me. The young mother, who alternated between calling everyone on her cell phone, talking to the players like she was holding a personal conversation with each one, to threatening to “smack” her toddler daughter if she continued to act like a two year old. She also directed her venom at Juan Pierre, the anti-Manny on-base fiend whose only crime was to not be a charismatic Dominican slugger. Judging from Mother-of-the Year's reaction, I suspect if the home team's bench was located in section 145, poor Juan would have gotten smacked after getting tagged out at third after a missed bunt on a botched sacrifice play.
Once I got to the box, I was shocked to see how crowded the small room was. The three rows of 20 seats each were filled as was the walkway behind the last row of seats as if it were the middle of October. For some reason, more media decided to show up for work that day and I don't think it was to write about the Dodgers, who were resting half their regulars including Ramirez, and the Pirates led by sublime outfielder Andrew McCutcheon (*Note McCutcheon is one of the most exiting players in the Majors.). Equally interesting, not one, but two stat keepers for MLB.com online were there for the game. How can two stat keepers work on one laptop?
I took a seat in the dining commons below a television set to finish my story on Vasquez. But as I wrote during the sixth inning, the scene around me was too irresistible too ignore causing me to nearly miss Kemp's home run. As I watched it unfold with great amusement, music wafted into my head. While those in the back row casually looked around, some of those who did not get the seats were positioning themselves to the tune of the Blue Danube Waltz. It was a romantic dance by some to gain the love of a nine-inch plaster figure made in China.
After several minutes of feigned indifference, James, the gatekeeper of the box came as his custom in the seventh inning bearing gifts, the receivers expressed a surprised gratitude. But it was obvious that their reactions were as genuine as a Kanye apology, because deep inside I knew they were saying Mine! Mine! Mine!
