Dodgers fans can exhale now

When the Arizona Diamondbacks lost to the St. Louis Cardinals at 2:32 p.m. Pacific time, the Dodgers officially clinched the National League West championship.

Nobody was on the Dodger Stadium field. Nobody was in the Dodger Stadium stands.

There was only the sweet sound of a six-month sigh of relief.

And then, bless some stadium employee, there was Randy Newman, his trademark song blaring over the loudspeakers, echoing through the Chavez Ravine stillness.

Those who love L.A., it seems, are falling back in love with the Dodgers.

"All we've been through, for 162 games, to get to this one step," said infielder Nomar Garciaparra. "A huge step."

It was a sometimes pained, often plodding step. But in the end, with the fresh footprints of kids and the giant ones of Manny Ramirez and Joe Torre, it was a perfect step in the long road toward reclaiming the Dodgers' spot as the city's premier sports franchise.

"They've accomplished something very, very big," said owner Frank McCourt. "This is another step toward bringing back our culture of winning."

The Dodgers, who have won just a single playoff game since their last World Series title in 1988, will begin the five-game National League division series next week at either Chicago, Philadelphia or New York.

The journey there began Thursday in much the same way it evolved during the season -- with a little confusion, a little awkwardness, but much unabashed fun.

Many players arrived at the Dodger Stadium clubhouse early for Thursday night's game with the San Diego Padres, gathering to watch the end of the Diamondbacks game on television.

By all accounts, when the final out was recorded, they shook hands, hugged, then turned on the clubhouse stereo and began bopping to "Paper Planes," a hip-hop song by M.I.A. that is played after every Dodgers victory.

It was as if they had just won a game without playing a game.

No champagne was popped, although Casey Blake apparently didn't need any.

"I'm drunk already!" he reportedly shouted.

"I've never experienced anything like that," Torre said.

Neither has Ramirez, perhaps because he wasn't there.

The guy who has carried the Dodgers on his bat since arriving here from Boston on Aug. 1 didn't even know the Dodgers were champions until he was at the stadium later that afternoon, on the elevator descending to the clubhouse.