Frank McCourt during an interview session with radio broadcasters at his… (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles…)
Listen, he was good for business. No, not your business, my business. I don’t care about your business. I’m all about me. I’m a blogger.
Now maybe not a traditional baseball blogger, as if the form has been around long enough for there to be such a thing, but still a blogger. One whose lifeblood comes from page views.
The dirty little secret about blogging is we’re all hit whores. Write something of real interest or controversial or a little out there, and the hits can pour in.
One of the more laughable comments a reporter always hears is, “Oh, you only wrote that story to sell newspapers.” A reporter barely knows what the annual circulation figures are for his newspaper, let alone what’s sold on a daily basis. And there’s no real way of quantifying the effect of one story in a print edition on sales over another.
Ah, but in the world of blogging, you can see every single day how many hits you received, how many each post generated. And I’m here to tell you, McCourt was good for business.
Every time it came out that he did something wacky, it was a good blogging day. McCourt pulls $189 million out of the Dodgers to fuel an exorbitant I-want-to-be-a-Saudi-prince lifestyle or goes the nepotism route to pay his sons six figures to not work or hires Rasputin or pays a food taster $400,000 out of charity or doesn’t pay income taxes or plans to thrash the payroll and raise ticket prices – boom! The guy was a regular hit machine.
And on the days when The Times’ Bill Shaikin would break a big news story – team to miss payroll, MLB takes over Dodgers, team files for bankruptcy, divorce agreed upon, team sold – it was just hits from heaven.
Everybody else is celebrating the final day of McCourt, and here I’m already feeling nostalgic for good ol` days. I am seriously worried the Guggenheim Baseball Management just won’t carry its page-view weight. It could force me to actually have to work for hits.
So long, Frank, know at least one Los Angeles native will miss you.
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No, really, I'm going to miss Frank McCourt with the Dodgers