For close to 30 years I was a diehard L.A. Dodger fan. There was no question about it. To live in Phoenix in the 60’s and 70’s, you were pretty much either a Dodger fan, or a Giant fan. Cubby fans did not really count, since most of them were expatriate pretenders. On the AM radio, you picked up Dodger games and Giant games. The Giants had a minor league team that played at Phoenix Muni, so they had a bit of a local advantage. But the Dodgers had Vin Skully and Jerry Doggett on the microphones, which for my acoustic taste there was really no comparison.
It helped that my Dad and brothers were also hooked on the Dodgers. It was pretty much a family affair. Unlike all those Cubby fans, we were well rewarded for our dark blue obsession. We were listening on the Radio when the Dodgers won National League pennants in 1977, 1978, 1981, and 1988. We had our AM transistors dialed in during the World Series championships in 81 and 88. I was not old enough to really remember the Koufax and Drysdale era, but certainly my Dad and big brother would. I think we bled Dodger blue. Fernadomania? We were there. Oral Hershiser’s 59 consecutive scoreless endings? Gibson’s limping, game winning HR in Game 1 of the 88 World Series? Oh yeah!
It helped that my Dad and brothers were also hooked on the Dodgers. It was pretty much a family affair. Unlike all those Cubby fans, we were well rewarded for our dark blue obsession. We were listening on the Radio when the Dodgers won National League pennants in 1977, 1978, 1981, and 1988. We had our AM transistors dialed in during the World Series championships in 81 and 88. I was not old enough to really remember the Koufax and Drysdale era, but certainly my Dad and big brother would. I think we bled Dodger blue. Fernadomania? We were there. Oral Hershiser’s 59 consecutive scoreless endings? Gibson’s limping, game winning HR in Game 1 of the 88 World Series? Oh yeah!
Along with our mutual love for the Dodgers, came our inherent and natural dislike of the Giants and the Big-Red Machine.
Vin Skully could orally conjure a game up in our heads like a perfected dream-scape. If a photo speaks a thousand words, a Skully call spoke a thousand pictures. There was something very real and comforting about a Skully called game that tied us Adler boys all together. I remember driving from Prescott Arizona to Phoenix during the summer of 1980 listening to a game with Jerry Reuss on the mound. Without ever mentioning one very important and telling stat, tension and excitement ratcheted up as each inning passed by. One glaring omission was obvious to all without any spoken announcement. The Giants could not touch the ball. As I got closer and closer to my home in Phoenix, my driving became slower and slower. I creeped onto Amelia Avenue as Vin called the last pitch of the no-hitter. I had heard every pitch described in magnificent detail. I could not wait to tell my Dad and Brothers. It felt as if I had been given an irreplaceable and precious gift to share with all who would listen.
To this day, I can’t listen to a radio broadcast without thinking of Vin Skully. After that, I think about my Dad. Us Adler boys and Dad were all bonded together through our love of all things Dodger Blue. A Phoenix spring High-light would occur each year when the Dodgers and Giants would stage an exhibition game at Phoenix Muni. My brothers and I would ride our bikes to the park early hoping to pick up a few Dodger autographs and foul balls. One would think we would all have a bond that would never be broken.
To this day, I can’t listen to a radio broadcast without thinking of Vin Skully. After that, I think about my Dad. Us Adler boys and Dad were all bonded together through our love of all things Dodger Blue. A Phoenix spring High-light would occur each year when the Dodgers and Giants would stage an exhibition game at Phoenix Muni. My brothers and I would ride our bikes to the park early hoping to pick up a few Dodger autographs and foul balls. One would think we would all have a bond that would never be broken.
Along came 1998 and our Dodger Blue obsession passed out of our lives like a snake in the grass. A Diamondback snake to be more precise. The Arizona Diamondbacks became our local team! Even before Randy Johnson pulverized his first bird and their Luis Gonzales Series winning bloop single we had all decidedly turned our backs on L.A. and dawned D-Back pinstripes*.
MLB Baseball was in our hometown, and we would never again look toward the west coast for our National pastime.
MLB Baseball was in our hometown, and we would never again look toward the west coast for our National pastime.
Perhaps this says something about the nature of loyalty. Or maybe it says something about obsessions. Or, maybe it does not say anything as momentous as all that. Dad has been gone a while, and mostly my brothers have all moved away from this sunny hot valley. Summer days listening to Vin Skully and Dodger Baseball are a fond part of my past. OH, gotta run. Chase Field is calling my name. Play Ball!!!
Cheers, nca
*PS - Diamonbacks converted from Pinstripes to Sedona Red in 2006. That sounds like a Crayola color :(
*PS - Diamonbacks converted from Pinstripes to Sedona Red in 2006. That sounds like a Crayola color :(
Dodgers swept the D-Backs in the NLDS this year, but what a great year it was for a D-Backs fan. Looking forward to 2018. The Dodgers are in the World Series, first time since 1988...the Kurt Gibson year.
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