Buy Me Some Peanuts - And Personal Firearms

OK, so I may have pre-judged Angelenos as a fair, friendly and open – even if highly dosed with medicinal marijuana - crowd.

Something has thrown my worldview of LA askew.

I went to a Dodgers game.

I should have known. I should have been expecting it. I have seen the Dodgers play in my most recent hometown of Lakeland, Florida, where they traveled to play the Detroit Tigers while spring training at Joker Marchant Stadium.

Not even the balmy breezes, the welcoming smiles of the geriatric, retiree ushers, the sweet tea and fresh strawberry shortcake could mellow the fans' bad attitudes.

They were rude. They were crass. They talked over the game. They made fun of the local advertisements, the small-town promotions awarding coupons to the local diner. They joked about how they would ever find anything edible for dinner after the game.

They were obnoxious. I don’t know how I forgot that.

Maybe it was my later trips to Vero Beach, Florida, and the hallowed ground of Dodgertown, where Dodger fans were almost as likely to be from Brooklyn as Los Angeles. Those fans were nice – on good behavior, even. They came in peace.

  

Maybe it was that little stadium in Vero (I’ve seen high school baseball fields with more seats), with all its old-school character and history and mystique that kept the fans in order.

Somehow, it kept them from being themselves.

On Saturday night, we arrived late, as all Dodger fans do – either because it’s stylish or because they’re sitting in traffic – in lots of cases, people in LA pretend that’s the same thing. It was already the third inning against the Brewers when we took our seats just above the press box.

Within five minutes there were two women standing and yelling at each other in our section, a few rows down. They weren’t scrapping yet, but everyone around them was encouraging them to. As we watched, fans two sections over stood to cheer on what they hoped would be a girl fight.

Security came, and made the two women leave and take their beers with them.

The fans booed security.

Five minutes later, two groups of fans nearby started screaming at each other. One group was Latino; one was Asian. A fan behind us -- the only other person not on his feet and cheering for a fight -- mused whether it was the Olympics that was bringing out tension between nations.

Security never came. These dudes agreed to try to kill each other in the parking lot.

They followed each other out. I appreciated their decorum, but I mean – it seemed like a lot of trouble.

Our section was clearly devastated at this unexpected show of deliberacy. The rage was suddenly so well ordered.

It was the top of the fourth.

Now, I hate to bring up Baltimore two posts in a row. But I want to show you I’m not a total rube – I have seen rabid fans. I have survived Ravens games. These are people who weren’t disappointed when Ray Lewis was indicted for murder. It made them like him more.

And there are 70,000 of them crammed in there. After tailgating for 12 hours. And it’s football. It’s basically a land war, with men dressed up in armor.

But the Dodgers play BASEBALL. It should be different. We should be sharing crackerjacks. Teaching the world to sing.   

The fans Saturday night were rewarded with a little violence, although it still didn’t seem to satisfy them. A woman in a lower section was hit in the face with a foul ball. They showed her on the JumboTron as she was helped out of the stadium, with a towel covering her face.

A woman behind me said: “I bet that bitch was talking to somebody when she got hit.”

I’m not making this up, folks, just because it’s a blog.

When a small, brave trio of Brewers fans rose to cheer on their team, I worried for them. In their preppy sweatshirts and frat-boy hats, they looked so small and soft -- so Wisconsin white. I thought: they'll never make it out alive.

It went on like this for the rest of the game. If a fan stood too long to switch seats or showed an unforgivable lack of motor skills and let the bouncing beach ball hit the floor, they became the target of frenzied – yet cooperative – raw fury.

There seems to be one thing Dodger fans agree on. They hate each other.

But, hey, they did have really cool fireworks afterward. And it looked like most of the crowd of 52,000 stayed to watch.

I guess it just takes good, old-fashioned, low-powered explosives to bring Dodger fans together.

Anthony, a mostly peaceful Dodger fan, took these photos.

Comments

[mcd]

Give me a grilled Dodger dog, hold the violence. Make sure to go to the stand that says "Grilled" else you get a regular old steamed ones, perhaps that's why everyone was fighting.

[matthew]

It's true, Dodger fans are among the most obnoxious I've ever seen. They're kind of like Yankee fans - but with a lot less to brag about. Jackie Robinson was a looong time ago, folks.

[Reagan]

And people say Yankee fans are violent. I sat in a back row in Yankee stadium a couple months ago, a man decked out in Oakland A's gear sandwiched tightly in between all the Yankee-hat wearing people (like me) and nobody said a word to him. At least he cheered. I remember Camden Yards, nobody said a word. Ever. Just polite clapping. This sounds more like Sox fans. They actually hate people with the wrong color of hats (no pink hats allowed in Fenway, some say).

And after living in Detroit, I do understand fan rage. I think it was a fan who started the riot involving soda cups thrown at players, who then raided the stands
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pacers-Pistons_brawl

... but it's no fun at games, particularly between fans of the same team.

[Sherry]

oh how I love baseball. :) you never have that kind of crap in Chicago!

[Sherry]

oh how I love baseball. :) you never have that kind of crap in Chicago!

[Sherry]

oh how I love baseball. :) you never have that kind of crap in Chicago!