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A season when anything's possible — for Dodgers too

After World Series heroics and amid NFL suspense, the Fan of the House columnist wonders what's next.

November 10, 2011|Chris Erskine

What an interesting run we've seen the last couple of weeks — great games, magic endings, topped by word of a Dodgers sale. That whole NBA (No Brains Assn.) debacle aside, and starting with World Series Game 6, what we're seeing is the Gods of Sport being unusually benevolent toward a nation that needs something to cheer. Unprecedented? Maybe.

Let's connect the dots:

"Arch Madness" is how Sports Illustrated described the Cardinals' World Series win, but in 25 years what you'll remember most from baseball's sensational postseason is the streak of miracles that ended an epic Game 6. Four hours 33 minutes just didn't seem long enough.

Two days later, USC and Stanford put on their own version of Game 6, amid expectations that this would be the biggest game for the Trojans in years, an ersatz bowl appearance.

The triple-overtime shootout — the most memorable finish since the Bush Push — left Trojans fans chewing their acrylic nails. They stumbled away stunned but proud. As much as Lane Kiffin, Matt Barkley seems the Trojans' Renaissance man, the very face of the program's rebirth.

"Be not afraid of greatness," an English word-slinger once said. "Some are born great, some achieve true greatness in their senior year."

Till then, I ask you: Is there something in the air or is there something in the air?

Because the next week: "McCourt's out; O'Malley's back." And Irish eyes are smiling.

Me, I'll believe it when I see it, but it seems Machiavelli might be dead. Heavenly beams crisscross Chavez Ravine in celebration — though you might've shuddered at one expert's suggestion that AEG could make a bid and turn Dodger Stadium into another L.A. Live, the visual equivalent of freezer burn. Egad. As an encore, they'll pave the Pacific.

Listen, forget the fat cats. Greed ruins everything. I say the fans should step up and buy the Dodgers, becoming (along with Green Bay) America's only major fan-owned franchise. And yes, you scolds, I'm aware that FC Barcelona is fan-owned as well.

So why not the Dodgers? Hey, we live in a country in which any boy can grow up to marry a Kardashian. The pursuit of happiness — or agony — is a constitutional ideal.

So why shouldn't the fans line up for a piece of the prize? One million households pony up $1,000 apiece for a slip of paper that awards fractional ownership, a la Green Bay, the most elite franchise in our most successful league.

There's $1 billion to work with right there: $900 million to buy the team, $100 million for roster and stadium upgrades (including satellite versions of local landmarks Philippe's, Pink's and Langer's).

Obviously, I'm a small-brained, big-picture kind of guy, but it seems that metropolitan L.A.'s 18 million residents could generate sufficient revenue. Heck, give me a calculator and a City Hall pol who can get things done. Or, this being Los Angeles, just the calculator.

Because there's a little something extra in the air, all right, the sense that anything is possible.

Witness that swell Michigan State Hail Mary, or the early snow games back east. Without a single touchdown, the Louisiana State-Alabama game still provided a thrilling OT.

All season, the NFL's been on fire. Ravens beat Steelers on the final drive. Giants top Patriots with 15 seconds to go. Chicago's slugfest with Philly comes down to the last play. Fairy tales reign. Charlie Brown finally kicks the football. Snoopy spikes it in the end zone.

And did you see this bit of whimsy? One Vegas bookie predicts that Albert Pujols' most likely new employer will be the Chicago Cubs, which leads, naturally, to thoughts of a Cubs-Red Sox World Series, which leads, naturally, to thoughts of a ticker-tape parade down Michigan Avenue and right into the lake itself, in the sort of Old Testament climax befitting such an event.

Plus, it'll probably snow two feet — hell having frozen over and all. Tinker to Evers to (Fat) Chance, right?

Speaking of miracles, here's my good-faith suggestion for an NBA solution: 49% to the players, 49% to the owners, 2% to the former NBA players who built the league. Make a statement. Share the bling

If ever a nation needed to show a charitable spirit, it is this one. If ever the time was right, it is now.

Because, guys, there's just something in the air.

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