Chapter the Eleventh: The Boys of Summer, damnit!

Why in the world am I rooting for The Dodgers?

I’m a Padre Fan, have been since I could put on a glove, knew the city I was born in, and could understand the rules of the game.

In 1977, I was wearing a Dodgers windbreaker during the World Series. My stepfather was (and is, AFAIK) in love with all things Los Angeles, and was a major Dodger Fan.

I did not know any better, but I was still a Padre fan. The intricacies of the league system were beyond my child’s mind, and as some folk may recall, I don’t really remember a lot of myself pre-77.

But I sure do after that.

All loyal San Diego Fans hate the LA Dodgers with a passion that will not die. Our neighbors to the north were too successful, too storied, too pretty for too long. It’s a rivalry much fresher than the Giants-Dodgers feud from New York.

I recently attended a Padres game in Colorado, and was spat on by New York Yankee fans while I held my head high.

I love the Padres, and always have.

I have watched the Padres lose two World series, and held my head high.

I want the Dodgers to lose Game 7 of the 2008 World Series, to the Tampa Bay Rays. I want this with almost all of my baseball loving heart, and I want to be there when it happens.

Barring a winning lottery ticket, I’ll be watching that game in my living room, in glorious high definition. but I’m going to watch every. Single. Game. Of the Playoffs.

If any of y’all want to watch irrational fervor in its most primal expression, make reservations for couch space now.

I do not like the LA Dodgers. but I want them to win, win, win, just a little bit longer.

May God have Mercy on my Baseball soul.