Spent Friday night in some badass buckets @ Dodger Stadium. My personal ticket broker in L.A., Barryâ€™s Tickets (Blake Griffin! Ron Artest!) hooked it up: 3rd row from the field, less than 50 feet from a deflated-looking Manny Ramirez.
(Stadium for one, Madame?)
While the Cubs embarrassed themselves that night by sleepwalking through a 1-hit, 2-run loss to capellini-armed Randy Wolf and
Jim BelushiÂ Jonathan Broxton, at least the Cubs (or Dodgers, who knows) continue to savor the finest road beef the National League has to offer. (And Iâ€™m not talking about Canterâ€™s on the concourse.)
(Mannywood the inspiration for acronym SDASTFU?)
We were seated about three sections over from where Mannywood officially begins, which is why the above scenario was a common refrain throughout the evening.
(Manny has done the impossible: Dodgers are dope with my kind of demo)
Ramirez has singlehandedly turned the Dodgers into cool around town - and last night was yet another example. Young women all around us shrieked every time he twitched into position or blew one out of his left nostril. I’m talking about hundreds, if not thousands of women. (If I ever sit next to Mannywood again, I’ll be plowing a half-pint of Ancient Age pregame.)
Now you might say that the reason this is playing out is L.A.’s inordinate obsession over celebrity. Baloney, if Manny was in Kansas City (my hometown) or anywhere else, exactly the same thing would be happening. Being the best right-handed hitter of our generation whilst going Jamaican Gold, mon, will do that to the ladies.
One more thing about the female dynamic at Dodger Stadium …
One of my biggest disappointments about living in Los Angeles the last 10 years is that I see so few truly hot latinas. I know that sounds nuts, but it’s absolutely true. I understand that the westside of Los Angeles isn’t exactly a bastion of latino culture, unless you count the overnight drive-thru detail at El Pollo Loco. But thanks to the SbB Gigs we used to do, I traveled all over L.A. and Orange Counties for years and smokin’ latinos were still few and far between.
Really the only place I regularly see hot Latinas in L.A. is at Dodger Stadium. No lie. The crazy hot, mid-2os jet black-haired hotties. Salma Hayek-types. They’re everywhere. Yes, a lot of them are handcuffed to the cliched, neck-tatted dude from Boyle Heights, but I’m just glad to know they’re out there. That’s how I pictured every hottie from L.A. before I moved here, but that’s not the way it is - at least where I’ve frequented over the years. A blind spot I curse every time I’m @ The Ravine.
The Dodgers have done a nice job redoing the concourse, and sprucing up the food and booze selex at the yard. But this outlet was, let’s just say, a little uncalled for.
Â (Wait, where’s Jackie’s Jug Wine Stand?)
“Campy” is Roy Campanella, a legendary catcher with the Brooklyn Dodgers who was paralyzed in a car accident at the peak of his playing career. Campy was a contemporary of Jackie Robinson and is among the most revered players in baseball history.
So commemorating him with a frozen drink stand is really, REALLY bad form. Only thing worse would’ve been for Dodgers to slap Steve Howe’s name on it.
(This stand alone accounted for Joe Beimel’s 2008 salary)
(Hope Superbad 2 Casting Director Was In The House!)
I’m out at another cool, quasi sports-related L.A. event tonight downtown. And have a surprise on Sunday as well. Stay tuned kids.