Dodging the truth

 

By the 19^th century, the battle between Scotland and England had reached its absurd conclusion. War was one thing, but the final indignity saw members of the ruling class adopting the sartorial stylings of the Scottish. British noblemen began dressing like the clans they’d spent centuries subjugating. Can you blame them? Kilts look cool and there was something very special for a dainty Londoner parading down Downing Street in his plaid best. 

 

Why am I recounting this grave sin of fashion? Because the Los Angeles Dodgers won the World Series last night. And it's what I think of every time I see someone rooting for LA in a Brooklyn Dodgers hat. Good, God Bless. The insistence by many fans and even parts of their organization to connect their Hollywood present with a distant Brooklyn past.. 

 

This is wrong. The Brooklyn Dodgers were a beloved piece of Kings County. Their callous departure after the 1957 season was an act of depravity, compounded by the fact that the uptown New York Giants left for the stupid hills of cloudy San Francisco. Walter O'Malley resides in the borough's collective memory alongside the worst men of the 20th century. It was five long years before the Mets arrived, somewhat filling the void. But some scars never heal. LA is Sandy, Drysdale, Garvey, and Fernando. Hershiser, Kershaw, and Freeman. But it’s not Gil, The Duke, Campy, Jackie, Red, Hilda, or the Sym-phony.

 

When a team moves cities, they should be legally prohibited from keeping their previous name. This would rightfully do away with the Los Angeles Lakers and Utah Jazz, forcing them to choose something with slightly more regional flair. There is precedent, of course. When the Colorado Rockies, an expansion hockey team moved across the country to the swampy meadows of New Jersey, they left the mountain range behind them and became the folkloric, Devils. 

 

Some would say I’m merely a bitter Yankee fan. Which is partially true. However, I don’t derive personal pride or shame from the outcome of the teams I root for. I did my part, listening to the game on radio in an Aaron Rodgers-style darkness. Beyond being a baseball fan, I’m a New Yorker. 

 

The Brooklyn Dodgers have nothing to do with the Los Angeles Dodgers. The very name connotes dodging trolleys, not mental patients darting through traffic on the 405. So congratulations to the city of LA, its players and fans. Just try not to invoke the ghosts of 1955. Because that memory forever belongs to Brooklyn.