I’ve been to a lot of Dodger games, but this one was the best one ever.

It didn’t start out so well. We were down 2-1 and the Cardinals brought in closer Ryan Franklin (who does not deserve #31) to earn the save. The first two batters he faced, Andre Ethier (who hit a homerun against Matt Wainright in the 4th) flyed out. Manny Ramirez flyed out too.

Two outs.

And then comes James Loney. He hits a simple fly ball to left center. Matt Holliday goes for the catch and drops it, making a big error and likely hurting more than his ego. Loney hustles and reaches second on what should have been the game ending out.
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I pay little attention to baseball during the off season. Of course, I followed the news on whether or not the Dodgers would re-sign Manny and I had a few conversations about Alex Rodriguez’s confession about using steroids when he played for the Texas Rangers. (Rodriguez was my favorite player from ’96 until he signed with Texas in 2001. After that, I stopped paying attention to his career, but still kept up a pennant from his days with the Seattle Mariners.)

These days, I’m following the World Baseball Classic and hoping Mexico advances out of pool play. Oh yeah… who knew anyone actually played baseball in the Netherlands?

By the time Alfred and I got to our seats in the upper reserve section — just one row from the top — I was hot, hungry and annoyed. The score definitely didn’t help my mood. In the two and a half innings we’d missed while stuck in traffic out- and inside Chavez Ravine, the Phillies had already scored 3 unanswered runs.

I should have just stayed home, I thought. This isn’t going to be good.

Then I turned away from the game to check out the view of Downtown to the south. I changed my mind.

Same photo, different post.

Top of the 8th, the disaster inning

I went to last night’s Dodger game. Yes, game 4 of the National League Championship Series. Yes, the one they lost… and lost bad.

That lost has totally screwed with my mood. I couldn’t sleep last night. I woke up late, went to work sleepy and low on energy. I told my co-worker that I felt hungover despite only drinking water and Dr. Pepper at the game. The smoky air (thanks to the fires in the Valley) irritates my eyes and constantly makes me feel like crying.

Yeah, I’m sad, but it’s also not over. The Dodgers can bounce back. They’ll have to win three in a row. I’ll be crossing my fingers and cheering for Los Doyers.

And now, photos from the game.
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¡Vamos, Henry!

I was in Mexico during the 2004 Athens Olympics. It was strange. Rather than have several athletes considered favored in marquee sports, Mexico only had a few. I was so used to seeing the US on top of the podium and in the medal standings. But Mexico, not so much.

In 2004, the hype was all about Ana Guevara, a sprinter favored to win the 400 meter dash. While out dancing one Friday night, everyone in the club stopped to watch one of the preliminary heats. Everyone cheered loudly and ordered celebratory shots when Ana won that heat. On the day of the final in 400 meter, my cousin woke me up cheers of “¡Vamos, Ana!” Almost all Olympics commercials featured Ana. It was pretty exciting. But Ana didn’t win gold, she won the silver. Belem Guerrero, from Ciudad Neza south of Mexico City, surprised everyone with a silver in cycling’s point’s race. Finally, the last two silver and bronze medals were won by siblings Oscar Salazar and Iridia Salazar in taekwondo.

I wondered if Mexicans watched athletes like Oscar de la Hoya (aka the Golden Boy) and if they claimed them. I wonder if Mexicans will claim Henry Cejudo, the son of undocumented immigrants from Mexico City. He was born in LA and moved around with his mother and siblings.

Henry just won the gold medal in the 121-pound freestyle wrestling event. He reminds me a little of Oscar de la Hoya, especially posing with the US flag draped around his shoulders.

Will he be the new Golden Boy?

Photo credit: Elizabeth Dalziel/AP

Since April, I’d been avoiding Chavez Ravine. I wasn’t dealing with guilt over the history of the area. I saw Culture Clash’s play five years ago and dealt with it all then. Plus, I grew up without the knowledge of the history. All I knew were the names of my favorite players and all those guys who won Rookie of the Year in the ’90s (Eric Karros, Mike Piazza, Raul Mondesi, Hideo Nomo and Todd Hollandsworth).

My avoidance wasn’t even about the hassle of getting to/in/and out of the place. The happiness I feel in the stadium cancels out the frustration of getting in.

No, I was staying away because I didn’t like owner Frank McCourt’s business model of increasing admission and parking prices as well as creating more luxury seating. Last year, I only went when someone else was trying to pass off some tickets. Yeah, I can be coda…

But my boycott was half-assed, like a lot of other things I do. If a friend offered to buy tickets or needed to pass off some tickets, I’d gladly take them.

I was offered tickets last week for fantastic seats for the first game of the Freeway Series against the Anaheim Angels (eff that LA Angels of Anaheim crap).

Photos after the jump.

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Sigh.

I’m still sulking. Yes, me the fair weather fan who only pays attention to the Lakers during the playoffs. To be fair, the playoffs do last forever in the NBA. But still, I’m very much a hometown girl and anything that makes LA look bad hurts me.

Anyway, I was trying to do a little writing therapy, but nothing was working. A beer didn’t help either.

And then I remembered the time I met Magic Johnson three years ago after a pick up game at UCLA where he played with a few other NBA players.

It got me laughing and feeling good for the first time all night.

Here’s the story as told to Matt, a friend from New Orleans:
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Back in late December, I attended a UCLA basketball game with my friend Eligio at the storied Pauley Pavilion. UCLA handedly beat UC Davis. Eligio and I stayed afterward to talk to some people and try and get photos with some of the star players like Josh Shipp (junior, guard/foward) and Kevin Love (freshman, center).

UCLA plays Texas A&M tonight in the second round of the NCAA tournament. UCLA is seeded first in the West and Texas A&M is ten. From what I’ve read, the Aggies are a team with a lot of big guys who play in a physical and aggressive manner (LAT pre-game story). The game will be a challenge, but I know UCLA has a very strong team.

I packed my UCLA hoodie specifically because I wanted to represent while I was in Texas and New York during the beginning of the tournament. I may be in hostile territory right now, but I’ll proudly wear my UCLA hoodie as I explore more of Houston.

Go Bruins!

I’d make a horrible professional athlete. Aside from the fact that I can’t run fast, jump high, throw hard or accurately, I’m also rather shitty at, well… talking shit.

I didn’t say anything about today’s UCLA vs. USC game online or in person. When my dad called me this morning and asked if UCLA was going to win, I told him it was probably a longshot.

But even longshots become reality.

UCLA started off the game looking good. By the end of the first quarter, UCLA had already scored a touchdown fueled by some unexpected rushing on behalf of the quarterback, Patrick Cowan. UCLA held on to the lead for most of the first half until USC scored on a safety and then a touchdown to make the score 9-7.

The second half was a nail biter, but UCLA kept USC from scoring again. In the mean time, UCLA helped itself by scoring two field goals by veteran kicker Justin Medlock.

With only a narrow 4-point lead through the fourth quarter, I got extremely nervous. It all worked out though.

I’m happy. I haven’t seen UCLA win in a game against USC since 1998, when I was a mocosa trombone player in the band. I remember thinking that it was cool to see UCLA win 34-17, but the game was rather boring. At that time, I didn’t think I’d have to wait 7 years before the Victory Bell came back to UCLA.

In 1998, the University of Miami played spoiler to UCLA’s hopes for a championship title and the Rose Bowl became the consolation prize.

In 2006, UCLA thwarted USC’s hopes for another chance at the BCS championship game and the Rose Bowl is their consolation prize.

It’s a good day to be a UCLA fan. Not only did we win against USC for the first time in 7 years, but we also severely upset a lot of ‘SC fans.

On Monday night, I watched a fantastic Dodger game from the comfort of my pink couch. There were no friends around, and instead I had to call my brother Danny and friend Gabby to express my excitement to another human. I was elated after the game and felt good as the last two weeks of the baseball season got underway. Oh yeah, and the Dodgers were in first place in the National League West.

That changed during the week. It turns out that the Dodgers are great at going for long stretches at winning… or losing. In August they went 17-1. Earlier in the summer, they were 1-13. Ouch. It seems that after the Monday night high, my beloved Dodgers left me feeling a little blue every time I checked on the score for the game that day.

Still, it didn’t keep me from not wanting to return to Chavez Ravine for the last home game of the season. I attended yesterday’s game with good friends who also love the Dodgers. Alfred was hungover after his housewarming party, but still down for an early afternoon game. Gabby and Javi are at the stadium at least once every homestand, and this was no different. Two other friends, Mike and Cathy, joined in.

We sat in the top deck, way up in section 13 on the far left. Still, being that high up didn’t ruin the atmosphere. The Dodgers and Arizona Diamondbacks remained at a tie for most of the game. The Dodgers’ and Diamondbacks’ starting pitchers, Hong-Chih Kuo and Liván Hernández, didn’t give up too many hits in the first 8 innings.

I told Alfred, “I’m glad I ate that Dodger dog after the 7th inning stretch, it looks like it might go in to extra innings.”

Surprisingly, Alfred replied, “if it does, we’re leaving. I’m hungry!”

“No we’re not,” I replied. I don’t like leaving games early, but then again I wasn’t starving. I’m sure Alfred was glad we stayed.

The score was 1-1 going in to the bottom of the ninth.

Behind me in the last row of the top deck, a man told his fidgety 4-year old son, “say win, and the Dodgers will win.” I heard him softly say, “win.”

“Okay,” his dad replied, “they’re going to win. Just watch.”

Marlon Anderson, the Dodgers’ latecomer who lately has led the way, singled to begin the ninth against reliever Luis Vizcaino and advanced to third on a sacrifice bunt and a groundout to second. Rafael Furcal [intentionally walked] and Kenny Lofton walked, and up came Garciaparra. LAT story

I was on my feet next to Alfred, Gabby, and the others cheering as loud as we could. Behind us the hopeful dad scolded his son as he tried to stand on the armrests rather than the seat. I turned quickly to see him get down and then turned back to the field were bases were loaded, Nomar was at the plate and the count was 2 balls and 1 strike.

Vizcaino threw the ball. Nomar hit it. And we watched it go up and up and up. It looked like a normal fly ball to center, but it wasn’t.

It landed right past the fence in center field.

A grand slam. It was also Nomar’s second walk-off homerun in a week of must-win games.

I don’t remember for how long we cheered as Nomar ran the bases and into a crowd of his teammates in white and blue. His smile must have been as big as those of the thousands of fans cheering him.

I turned and told the little boy, “hey, you said they ‘win’ and they won!”

“Give her a high five,” his dad said.

I hope that kid remembers the game. I know I will. Who wouldn’t remember the first time she saw a game-winning grand slam by one of the best players in baseball?

[On another note, the game was memorable because I ran in to my cousin, Robert, while he was working. Robert is an LAPD officer. It's been a long time since I've seen him that I almost didn't recognize him. Plus, he was in his uniform and was wearing shades, so I needed to check his nametage to make sure it was my cousin before I said hi to some random LAPD officer.]