Reclaiming the Dodgers
Brooklynites, I’m a bit disappointed. An epic anniversary is upon us this year and no one seems to notice, much less care. It was 50 years ago this season that this borough’s beloved baseball team the Brooklyn Dodgers was stolen from us and shipped across the continent to Los Angeles.
The team that broke the color barrier. The team they called the bums. The team that coined The Boys of Summer, before Don Henley ever did. The team that was the class of the National League from 1941 to 1956, winning seven pennants. The team that lost in the World Series six times to the New York Yankees. The team that finally won it all over the New York Yankees in 1955. The team that was always willing to wait until next year. Brooklyn’s team.
That team has been gone for 50 years now, and the fanfare has been fair to non-existent. And, really, it’s not anyone’s fault (except Walter O’Malley’s), because there are no fans. The old Ellis Island guard that remembers and rooted for the Dodgers has moved out, and the new Rentrification guard has moved in; it’s not like Brooklyn’s current population has forgotten about the Dodgers, it’s more like we never knew. But maybe it’s about time that changes. Maybe it’s about time we got some real baseball back in Brooklyn.
And I’m not some nostalgic misty-eyed, sexagenarian, shit, I’ve only lived in Brooklyn for six months. I just think it would be awesome if we had a baseball team. Something the whole borough could enjoy together. If Ebbet’s Field was brought back and Brooklyn had an epicenter once again.
Because what do we have now that unites us in Brooklyn? Nothing. We’re a borough of individuals. Of tattoos and t-shirts. Hipsters, hopsters, dumpsters and hairstyles. Of converse sneakers and converted warehouses. Of lofts and losers, artists and fartists, writers, fighters, biters, and all-nighters. We’re a borough that’s too cool for school even though we all graduated a couple of years of ago.
And something like a baseball team may just hold the perfect amount of irony for us all to get behind. From Flatbush to Flatlands, Canarsie to Carol Gardens and back to Bushwick, we’ll all have something to cheer for together. Brooklyn is just a bunch of areas these days. Oh, where in Brooklyn do you live? We need something to put Brooklyn back together again.
Fuck the Yankees. Fuck the Mets. Let’s go Dodgers. Man, when Brooklyn had a winning team it was a big enough deal to make a Billy Joel song. Who wouldn’t love to go to a few games? Get a dawg. Drink a few sloppy ones. Sing during the seventh inning stretch. Boo.
We would support them. We have a big enough fan base. Imagine having a team we could root for in Brooklyn. How sweet would that hat be? That’d be a cool cap. And the jerseys. With a big blue B. That stuff would sell like sticky buns. You wouldn’t be able to go a stop on the J,M,Z without seeing one.
Let’s Go Dodgers. I know we’re supposedly getting a basketball team. Thanks Sean. But first of all I’ll believe it when I see it, and secondly we need something for the summer. No one’s going to tramp through the snow to see a basketball game, but we’ll all surely sit there in the sun. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to root for the basketball team, I already do, I just think it’d be nice to have both.
Truthfully, all this deep-felt passion came to me because I watched a documentary on HBO about the Brooklyn Dodgers called The Ghosts of Flatbush. And nothing makes you want something more than black and white photography. The people were having so much fun. And they loved their Dodgers. They knew everything about them. They lived and died with them.
And now, they’ve mostly died with them. This year marked the 60th anniversary of Jackie Robinson taking the field, and as important as it is that he is remembered and cherished, it’s important as well we recognize the team that had the juiced balls to put him out there. The Dodgers, Jackie Robinson, that moment, that man, is the spirit of Brooklyn. Brooklyn is a borough of beginnings.
The Dodgers weren’t the property of one neighborhood in Brooklyn, they were the property of the whole borough. Rich poor. Black white. Preachy non-preachy. Italian, Irish, Jewish, Lithuanian, Estonian, Puerto Rican, Laotian, Martian, Neo-Martian, Croatian, Cro-Magnon, and whoever the hell else lived in Brooklyn in those days. The Dodgers were everyone’s. Everyone in Brooklyn’s that is.
Now the Queens upstairs have gone and stole our thunder. And the plastics across the country have stolen our team. Well, it’s time we say enough is enough. We want our back-bone back. We’ve lent it out long enough and it’s time we get our source of pride returned to us. New York’s had three teams before. This would be nothing new. We know LA’s had a good time with our boys, but they’ll be okay. Major League Baseball can throw them the Marlins or something.
C’mon everyone, put your rally caps on. Let’s get it going. Let’s celebrate this anniversary. Let’s demand we get our damn team back. Let’s breathe some soul back into Brooklyn. Let’s Go Dodgers.
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