You put me to shame DFNY. Not just because you are a better writer than I am, but because you were right to gently chide me for laying on the negativity too thick. I suppose I figured it ought to be obvious that we both love this team to an almost ridiculous extreme based on the sheer comic obsession evident in our writing. But I suppose it really does need to be spelled out clearly – especially given the context of our conversation. So I’m saying it loud and proud: I love this God forsaken dysfunctional nightmare of a franchise – though often the love feels just a wee bit unrequited.
This brings me to a fairly obvious question – one I think we need to get at if this little therapy experiment is to take hold. I think we need to ask ourselves why we bother to love this team? Why do we tie so much of ourselves up in the fortunes of a bunch of strangers who simply have a talent (on most days) for playing baseball?
Jerry Seinfeld famously remarked that since players changed teams so often after free agency, fans were essentially reduced to rooting “for laundry”. But even as he had the insight to make that observation, the guy clearly remains a baseball fan. Clearly there is an element of cognitive dissonance involved in baseball fandom. And being a Dodger fan would seem to require outright psychosis of some kind – unless you only go to do the wave and play with the beach ball.
Given the above – can you offer any explanation for my inability to extend that cognitive dissonance one step further? Why can’t I convince myself that the folks that own the Dodgers cares as much about championships as I do? Why does my love for this team so often seem tragicomic? I know how I was seduced, but what I don’t ger is how I stay seduced. Bitter as I am, why do I continue to line up for more?
The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind. Can you shed some light?