Thanks to a judge's ruling on Tuesday, it appears that Jamie and Frank McCourt may have to share the Dodgers, at least temporarily. That is ridiculous. Bitter divorcees should not share a team temporarily. They should share it
But who gets which half?
We're here to help.
Jamie gets the right-handed hitters, the left-handed pitchers and of course the team's chauffeurs. She will pay them on the 1st and 15th of every month. Frank gets the left-handed hitters, the right-handed pitchers and the groundskeeping crew. He will pay them on the 8th and 22nd of every month.
Jamie gets to decide the fate of manager Don Mattingly, but if she fires him, Frank gets to pick his replacement. In that scenario, Frank is entitled to replace Mattingly with Mattingly, but he cannot gloat about it.
All managerial decisions in the first two innings are left up to Mattingly; in an effort to bond with their fans, the McCourts will not show up until the third inning. They will arrive together, holding hands; on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Jamie gets to squeeze Frank's hand as hard as she wants, with the understanding that she may pop one of his blood vessels, and on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, Frank gets to chip one of Jamie's finely manicured fingernails, but only one. Again, we're trying to be reasonable.
Jamie gets to call the dugout with advice in the third, fifth, seventh and ninth innings; Frank can do it in the second, fourth, sixth and eighth innings. If the game goes to extra innings, Jamie and Frank agree that it is best to rely on a court-appointed astrologer.
After games, Jamie and Frank will stand in the parking lot, where Jamie will tell customers: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only. There is no stopping in the red zone."
And Frank will say: "The
During spring training, neither McCourt gets to talk to Sandy Koufax.
Yes, I know it sounds crazy. But this should work at least as well as the last few years of the McCourt regime. They took an American institution and painted a silly mustache on it.
The McCourts slashed payroll and feuded with each other. They had the Dodgers pay $600,000 a year to two of their sons, who did not have titles with the team. They spent a six-figure consulting fee on an astrologer, who closed his eyes, hummed and said "You spent $36 million on Andruw Jones and all I get is six figures? Your horoscope says 'Go Giants!'"
Meanwhile, Frank accused Jamie of having an affair with her onetime chauffeur. He also fired her for insubordination. I fear that my wife will try that the next time I forget to shovel the driveway.
In the meantime, the Dodgers are excited for the 2011 season. There is every reason to believe that once again, the McCourts can help bring the World Series back to San Francisco.
There is no winning in a divorce, but there is no crying in baseball, so the McCourts have to suck it up and make this work. Some Dodger fans are worried that, because of the expensive divorce, the team won't have enough money to field a winning team. Not to worry, my friends. The revenues from the reality show should be huge.