This morning's news that “certain state-owned investment institutions of the People's Republic of China'' are interested in spending money on the Dodgers sounds very familiar.  Back in the '80's, David Ritz wrote a novel called "The Man Who Brought the Dodgers Back to Brooklyn."  Back when he wrote it, the Dodgers were golden.  But he imagined a team that fell on hard times.  The stands were empty.  And as I recall, a German investor offered to buy the team.  A pair of die hard fans come up with a plan to bring the team back to Brooklyn, saving both the team and the borough.

There is one big difference between fiction and reality, though.  In Ritz' novel, Brooklyn is at the bottom of the barrel.  Today, of course, it's the hippest place to live in New York. 

The book appears to be out of print, but I see there's a copy still circulating at the library.

What a treat! The Nats broadcasters had legendary Dodger announcer Vin Scully on as a pre-game guest. Who knew he had a DC connection?!? Apparently Vinny was the vacation fill-in guy at the local all news station WTOP. I think he said it was when he'd just graduated from Fordham. He even lived in Georgetown - across from then-Secretary of State Dean Acheson. That was during the Truman administration! Vin was asked about the Dodgers - could they ever recover, to return to the great organization they once were. In time, he said. Not next year. In time.

I've been in LA this week and made time to visit my beloved boys in blue at Dodger Stadium. But it was a very sad place. 

I listen to Dodger games on my phone, a cheap investment to keep me connected to my favorite team. But over the radio, you don't realize how much has changed. 

I've never seen the parking lot that empty, never seen so many empty seats. And the Giants were in town! I think there were more of them in the stands than Dodger fans. Is it because of the Brian Stowe beating? A backlash against the management of Frank McCourt?

But it wasn't just the lack of fans. The entire stadium had a tired, beat up look about it. The parking lot was cracked here and there, the smaller crowd meant several concession stands were closed. Instead of those jolly folks with the dumb straw hats, uniformed LAPD officers walked up and down the aisles between innings. 

The view was still gorgeous — sunset coloring the hills and clouds of Chavez Ravine. And even though my Dodger dog was steamed, not grilled, it still tasted the same. But somehow, it just wasn't the same place.