Although I had promised you an ongoing commentary on the changing landscape of the law concerning business matters in light of actions by the Federal administration, I feel compelled to interrupt on a matter of great importance: baseball.  You may have noted that the artwork on top of these posts includes a baseball scene and, early on, I did post from time to time on that subject–but not for years.

Last Friday night, the Sox played the LA  Dodgers and all the Los Angelenos wore hats with a letter “B” on them.  How dare they usurp the Brooklyn history of the Dodgers and try to transport that aura to the tacky fake area of California known as tinsel-town?  LA stole the team but they cannot steal history and move it across the continent to that high-way laden, fake-persona wasteland of smog, earthquakes and forest fires.

Those of us who grew up with the Dodgers, whose players almost all lived in Brooklyn, knew that the fabric of the team was part and parcel of the place and time.  When Walter O’Malley announced in the mid-50s he would move to the West Coast rather than be diddled by Robert Moses, we all knew that the end of an era was nigh, particularly those of us who cut school to walk to Ebbets Field and pay 25 cents for a bleacher seat (you needed 10 Elsie ice cream caps or wrappers to get that price).

When the Dodgers were in town, which was half of the 154 game schedule plus another bunch of days when they were playing the Giants, dinner out for our family meant going downtown Brooklyn where the team always ate so we could see them, cadge an autograph or just stand up and applaud.

So now these West Coast Creeps presume to wear a “B” which they do not deserve.  For shame!! I am sure you all are as upset as I am so let’s be pissed off together.

Those who know me well have heard the “classic Brooklyn joke” or have learned of it from other literary sources of distinction.  For those of you who have not:

QUESTION: You find yourself in a room with Hitler, Stalin and Walter O’Malley.  Unfortunately, your pistol has only two bullets.  What do you do?

OBVIOUS ANSWER:  You shoot O’Malley twice.  You want to be sure that the son of a bitch is really dead!

I have long ago lost my little book of Dodger player signatures, as well as my small jar of dirt from the Ebbets Field infield (taken during demolition to put up the ugliest apartment houses in the City).  But I have not misplaced my loyalty and need for accuracy as to facts and morality both– I am not sure after 68 years if any of the Brooklyn Dodgers players are still even alive to feel the outrage, but allow me to feel that outrage for them!