It's 1988. What a slice of time in Los Angeles!
Gretzky, Lucky Luc and McSorley on Wednesday. Magic, Coop, and Big Game James on Friday. The Bulldog throws 59 scoreless innings and Vinnie sings, "She is gone!"
And while the late '80's may not be music's golden age, for a young sports fan in Los Angeles, it's Nirvana. We even had an NFL team!
Flash Forward: 2009 post-gig. Pulling onto the 10 West out of Palm Springs and scanning the dial for some company while I drive home.
Though the Dodgers and Rockies are battling for the division, I'm only mildly interested in the game itself. Eventually I find what I'm looking for. Vinnie's still singing.
Golden ages are gold for a reason. They shine and increase in value over time. We forget the bad, remember the great, and embellish the rest.
Here in my forties, I still watch and enjoy sports. I can't help it. My hat size was imprinted on The D.C. Westin's ceiling after
Lord, what's happened to hockey? What used to be major sport number four is now channel four hundred seventy three.
You couldn't get a ticket back in the Gretzky era, which began in August of '88, right between the Lakers' second straight NBA title and Gibby sparking the Dodgers to that improbable Series triumph. In time, there were more Kings flags flying down the 405 than Lakers flags.
During the run to the Stanley Cup Final in '93, the Forum Club was a nightly Oscar after-party, and when Montreal's
Last month, my nine-year old asked if the "guy batting after Manny is a cheater, too." That statement alone saves the two-paragraph rant about new millennium baseball. Even with all my Laker love, it's still hard to go all-in after that Kobe-Colorado thing.
Have you tried to bring your family to a game this decade? Tell me the fan's not getting priced out of the market.
Maybe I'm full of it. Maybe I'm out of touch. In Pittsburgh, Penguins fans are reliving Super Mario's old magic through Sid and his sidekick Malkin, and the Steelers are Super Bowl champs. Our hated rivals in New England have had a run this decade with KG's Celtics, Big Papi's Red Sox and
Dynasties abound in other places:
We all have our slice of time --
With age comes a natural cynicism fed by foul balls lost and perspective found. But with all my bitching, I'm still cruising the windmills, the Dodgers on the air. Content in the melancholy, with Vinnie taking me home.