It's possible that the worst contract in a long history of stupid Dodger big-money contracts going back to Dave Goltz and Don Stanhouse was not given to Carlos Perez or Devon White. No, I believe it was given to Darren Dreifort. Just what were Kevin Malone, et al, thinking when they shelled out an unfathomable $55 million to this whiny career underachiever?
Tuesday night, Dreifort was so totally outclassed and outperformed by Randy Johnson that it was embarrassing. The Unit was poised, focused and determined in his attack of batters. Conversely, Dreifort sauntered and lollygagged around the mound, taking what seemed like minutes between pitches, and it looked as though his mind was drifting and unfocused.
But the real problem is that this is not an exception with him. No, this is the impression Darren Dreifort gives almost every time he takes the mound. As a lifelong Dodger fan, it makes me sick when I realize that our ticket, parking and hot dog prices, among virtually everything else at the stadium, are higher because this guy's joke of a salary must be paid.
Just to save the workers a little time in setting up the paper, prepare a template with the headline "Dreifort Stinks Again." Then you can just trot it out every five days with no new composition needed. A smaller one saying "Olson and Orosco Too" could also be useful.
Today I watched the victory parade for L.A.'s only championship team in who knows how long. (Sorry, Xtreme). I think Moses was the quarterback then, but that was before my time.
Almost a million people came out to celebrate L.A.'s one championship team, the Lakers. Owned by one rich old guy they call Dr. Jerry. The Dodgers, once L.A.'s dream team, continue to struggle with management, players and some guy they pay $55 million to be a "work in progress," yet still can't get it done.
Rupert Murdoch hasn't shown anyone anything except dish off the biggest gate attraction they had in years, Mike Piazza. How can a mega-conglomerate like Fox be outdone by some guy named Dr. Jerry? Baseball started professional sports in L.A., but I'm finding more people now are Jonesing to watch the Sparks on a Sunday afternoon rather than watch the Dodgers!
Wake up, NFL. Wake up, Rupert. Jerry is killing you! He spent the money, he's reaping the benefits.
Bring Vinny back to the radio! Even though I am a lifelong Giant fan, one of summer's greatest pleasures for more than 40 years has been listening to Vin Scully on the radio. No announcer does a better job of bringing a game to life and in such a low-key way that one can enjoy the game while doing something else or simply kicking back and listening to that familiar voice.
Now that the Dodgers have gone to televising most of their games, we are stuck with very little Vinny and far too much Rick Monday. Somebody please tell me on what planet he learned to speak English? Listening to his tortured syntax is the radio equivalent of a two-hour root canal without anesthetic. I never thought I'd see the day when I prayed to hear Ross Porter, but the time has come.
Great Scott! How long will it be before the Dodgers are officially known as "The Boras of Summer"?