Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I really don't like the Dodgers!

I hate the Dodgers.

Do you hate the Dodgers too?

Hate is such a strong word tossed around recklessly among today's generation, whether it be the youth, adults, or elderly. We are all guilty. My parents tried to raise me to look past hate...

Except ONLY in the case of the Dodgers.

To understand where hate comes from, sometimes you just have to look back in time.

For me, it started before I was even born. My father would listen to Giants games and preach distaste of the Dodgers to me through my mothers belly.

The year I was born, the Dodgers lost the World Series. Only better way to start my baseball life would have been a Giants victory in the World Series.

My first words were actually "ti Tate ta Todgers"...my mother now says "you should have seen your fathers smile."

At 3, my father would read me bed time stories like "the Baby Bull and the three headed Campinella", "the Say Hey Kid saves the Bay from the Evil forces of the Drysdales", and "look out below, Jabba the Tommy's coming to town."

By 5, my dad took me to my first Giants/Dodgers game. I learned first hand bad names like Garvey, Sax, Guerrero, Valenzuela, & Welch.

My first year in T-Ball, I played on the Brewers and our coach taught us two post game celebrations. "2,4,6,8, who do we appriciate... (insert team name)" and 1,2,3,4, the Dodgers suck forever more"

At 7, my father bought me my favorite shirt. One I wish I still had, one I will have again, and one for which epitomises for which I stand on this very subject. I wore it often and I wore it proud. In Orange and Black, it simply stated "Duck the Fodgers"

At 9, I was drafted to my first little league team, unfortunately it was the Dodgers. I wanted to scream. My father said "don't cry, only Dodgers cry." So instead we formed a plan. My agent (dad) decided it was best for me to hold out through spring practice and see if I could force a trade. The GM (my ex-friends dad) was pissed and refused a trade, so I did the only honorable thing... played the year out in the minors.

At 10, I was drafted to the Expos and we beat the shit out of the Dodgers every game and chanted our to our hearts content.

At 11, I wanted to break both Kirk Gibson's other leg.

At 12, I called Tommy Lasorda a fat ass from the stands... It felt great. He called me a fat kid... that didn't feel so good but the hatred intensified.

At 14, Brett Butler broke my heart...HOW COULD YOU GO PLAY THERE TRAITOR

Jose Offerman's defense made me smile for half a decade until I was 18.

My 19th birthday I was treated to Jabba's retirement... hopes and dreams of the franchise tail spinning into the abyss were rampant

At 21, I was Orel Heirshisher threw the galaxy out of whack. It felt like french kissing my sister seeing him take the hill in Orange & Black. (thank god I don't have a sister eh? you'd all be really freaked right now)

I blame 2002 on the Dodgers cause FUCKING MIKE SCIOSCIA made the moves to get the better of FUCKING DUSTY BAKER and his fucking dumbass moves in game 6 and 7.

The next 10 years I enjoyed the hell out of watching Barry Bonds launch ball after ball out of the yard off them. I don't care how many suppliments he was taking, they were all doing it. It was an even playing field, it's just that we had the best and the Dodgers fans hated it.

I hated Eric Gagne, but loved Bonds duels with him.

I toasted Gagne when he was busted for cheating... That was a great beer...

Manny Ramirez went from bad to worse last year but gave me the best early season present I could ask for this year with his 50 game break. It's funny how the tables can turn...although OUR Barry (so called cheater) Bonds was never actually caught in a drug test. Manny's an idiot!!!

So now you know my story. I fucking hate the Dodgers and it's in my Genes. What's your story?

{some of these stories may have been slightly blemished, twisted, or complete blatant lies, but you get the point...who really cares...I hate the Dodgers}


1 comment:


Yes, for me my Grandpa took me to my first big league game at Candlestick at about age 8, up in the cheap seats, a twi-night doubleheader vs. the dogs. The entire crowd chanted "FUCK L.A.!" for about 6 hours straight, and the police escorted many shirtless Giants fans out of the stadium for beating the shit out of people wearing any shade of blue. My grandfather looked uncomfortable, but I had learned to revel in hatred.