In a move that few could have imagined, the Los Angeles Dodgers, long believed to be perhaps the model baseball franchise, had control of the team placed in the hands of Major League Baseball. More accurately, day to day control of the team was wrenched from the hands of owner Frank McCourt, despite his death-grip. Commissioner Bud Selig, who welcomed the McCourts (Frank and his wife) into baseball’s exclusive ownership club in 2004 with open arms, was always a strong supporter of the notion of returning the Dodgers to “family ownership”. Their relationship was always seen as outwardly friendly. However, like a close friend that’s had far too much to drink, Selig simply took the keys away from McCourt, and told him to take a cab home.
What exactly this means has yet to be clearly defined. Since our prying eyes cannot yet see into the future, patience will have to guide our judgment(s), although fear is bound to cloud any vision we may have. This is a potentially volatile situation, the way staring contests between billionaires often are. Already, things have soured to such a degree that MLB deemed further inaction impossible—clearly a sign that their faith in the McCourts has waned.
History will eventually judge how we come to see the demise of the Los Angeles Dodgers, such as it is. One would have to imagine that history will not be kind to the McCourt era. From the moment the McCourts assumed control of the team, things have steadily declined in Los Angeles. Debt mounted. Attendance waned. Most recently, as if things weren’t bad enough, violence has redefined the way fans across the country see the Dodgers. Near beating deaths do seem to have a way of putting things in perspective, even for the most oblivious of narcissists.
From the very beginning, the Dodgers were not a sound business investment, or, they weren’t treated as such. The team was not run capably or thoughtfully. Rather, they were used and abused like a boutique lap dog—never truly loved, but dressed up and shown off in an effort to impress friends and hangers-on. Owning a Major League Baseball team was just another in a series of extravagant purchases for the McCourts, who always seemed to view opulence as a virtue. As long as they had access to life’s extravagances, perhaps the necessities would somehow take care of themselves. Alas, they didn’t.
Life fell apart pretty quickly for the McCourts. Apparently all the material wealth could not sustain a healthy and nourshing relationship—something the couple may have never enjoyed. Jamie McCourt filed for divorce on October 28, 2009, laying claim to half of the team and other shared assets valued at more than $1 billion (with a “B”). In the petition, filed in a Los Angeles County Superior Court, Mrs. McCourt cited irreconcilable differences as the catalyst for the separation, also demanding that she be reinstated to the position from which she was fired (by her husband) just one week prior. And so began the utter awesomeness…
The very public, often ugly divorce proceedings between Mr. and Mrs. McCourt should serve as a warning: this is only the beginning of what is almost certain to become the baseball equivalent of a diarrhea slip-n-slide. Already embroiled in numerous legal battles, and being attacked from all directions, it’s difficult to imagine Frank McCourt simply shrugging off the notion of losing control of his Los Angeles Dodgers. This is a man who’s already quite accustomed to fighting, to lashing out in spite, to hurting anyone that gets in his way. Can anyone honestly say that they’d be surprised to see Frank McCourt barricaded inside Dodger Stadium, stripped to his underwear, covered in war-paint and armed to the teeth? Okay, perhaps that’s a bit of an overstatement, but this is a man who is quite possibly on the verge of a Charlie Sheen-sized meltdown. We’re talking ugly, folks—monkey knife fight-type ugly. Rest assured, there will be blood.
No comments:
Post a Comment