It was way back in 1955 that the Brooklyn Dodgers defeated the New York Yankees in a seven game World Series to finally break through and win The Dodger’s first of eight championship titles. It was the Dodgers of Pee Wee Reese, Jackie Robinson, Duke Snyder, and Gil Hodges to name a few. That year it took a Robinson theft of home plate and a two hitter by Johnny Podres in game seven to deny the Yankees their fifth consecutive series win over the “Da Brooklyn Bums” of Ebbets Field. In ancient history New York had three baseball teams, and California had none. The New York Baseball Giants, the New York Yankees and the Brooklyn Dodgers shared the big apple in a golden era of professional hard ball. The centerfielders on those three teams were bigger than the city that engulfed them. The Giants had “The Say Hey Kid” (Willie Mays), the Yankees had “The Mick’ (Mickey Mantle) and Brooklyn had “The Duke” (Duke Synder). With Willie, Mickey and Duke playing Broadway simultaneously the fight for number one in the world went through New York City’s centerfield. By the time the early 1960’s came around the Giants and the Dodgers caught trains for the west coast, leaving the vaunted Yankees, and all their championships alone atop the throne of not only New York but of the entire baseball world. Although, a few years later the New York Metropolitans would valiantly attempt to fill the void of the abandoned Giant and Dodger fans but the intensity of the rivalries for the heart of New York would be a thing of the past. Yet here we were 60 years later with the New York Yankees and the Los Angeles Dodgers punching their tickets one more time for entry into the fall classic. In the world of sports in 2024 the two titans of corporate athletics were squaring off in the sunshine of all the long-ago Octobers.
All the juices of Big Pharma, all the money of major league baseball, and all the followers of “East Coast vs. West Coast” were getting set for the match-up containing a large orgasmic punch. The big boys, whose organizations have combined for 63 world series appearances, were going to go back and forth between two shores to figure out which team had gotten the biggest bang for the millions of bucks spent. The two well oiled machines of professional baseball had a combined annual payroll of $551,000,000. In today’s hyperextended marketing blitz of paying mega dollars for mega stars the Yankees and the Dodgers were the most anxious to pay for the glitter. In terms of pure numbers, the Yankees have owned the Dodger rivalry with 27 championships, compared to the Dodgers eight. The two teams have now met 12 times in the October spectacle with the Yankees winning eight times and the Dodgers four. In 2024 all that history was coming together one more time. They both had the best records in their respective leagues during the regular season, and they each have passionate fan bases claiming to be the biggest, strongest, and loudest. Bothh the Dodgers and the Yankees are represented by the two biggest stars of their sport. Shohei Ohtani, the 30-year Japanese phenom, in his first year in Los Angeles hit 54 home runs and for sure will be the National League’s Most Valuable player. He stands six foot four and weighs 210 pounds. In the other dugout was the Yankee captain Aaron Judge, the Yankee version of Godzilla in uniform, the likely MVP of the American league with 58 homers during the regular season. His “Honor” is six foot seven and weighs 280 pounds. Last Saturday night at Dodger Stadium we got to go all the way back and remember. All the way back to Berra, and Mantle, and Ford, taking on the “da bums” (Reese, Snyder, and Robinson). Once again, the Yankees and the Dodgers were fighting for all the bragging rights of their team’s legacies.
In 1955 the Dodger organization won their first and only world championship as the Brooklyn Dodgers. Johnny Podres pitched a two hitter, in the house that Babe Ruth built, against a Casey Stengel managed Bomber team. Although that game is still the most celebrated in Dodger history, the boys of powdered blue went on to win seven fall classics including three against their coastal enemies. The teams have met 12 times in October, by far the most of any two teams in baseball with the Yankees claiming eight and now the Dodgers four. In the 1940’s and1950’s the Yankees piled up the receipts. Seemingly every season the Dodger fans (“Da Bums”) were leaving the Ebbets Fields bleachers crying “wait till next year.” Shortly after, the boys from Brooklyn broke the dam and won it all in 55. Their owner, Walter O’Malley, announced he was moving the team to the left coast. For the Brooklyn Dodger fan this edict was synonymous with a death notice. “I still haven’t gotten over it,” my father would repeat to me numerous times during our outings to Shea Stadium to watch the lovable losers that are the New York Mets. My Dad took on the Mets on after the messy divorce, but the Mets could never fill his empty heart like “dem Brooklyn bums” of his youth. As the decades passed the two franchises separated themselves from the small market teams via massive spending in the evolving free agency market. Since the boys in blue moved to L.A. the rivalry may have simmered but the hate the old Dodger fans have for the Yanks has only become more intense. Today, in 2024, the two teams are at the top of the charts with the biggest stars money can buy.
Last Friday night the Californian weather at Chavez Ravine Stadium brought out all of Hollywood shiniest heroes to be seen with the “in” crowd at today’s modern-day Colosseum. In the dazzling sunshine of Southern California, the two organizations highest paid gladiators were prancing on the green grass preparing for the show. The Dodger’s Ohtani, the sultan of swing, and Aaron ‘all rise” Judge were shaking hands with their corporate bosses before going to battle. The atmosphere may have been missing the backdrop of the Brooklyn Bridge, but in the Los Angeles hills you could feel the ghosts of the great Yankee teams chasing Da Bums into the open.
Before the first pitch was thrown, west coast rapper “Ice Cube” came out from behind the center field wall wailing his street creed that panders to this new generation of California dreaming. The days of Kate Smith or Sinatra with a mic in hand and crooning to us are long gone. Now it’s a bunch of crotch grabbing hip hoppers on both sides of America. When the game began it was Mookie Bets, Yoshinobu Yamamoto, and Freddie Freeman sending an early message to any of the Yankee’s swagger that this was 2024 not 1954. In game one Freeman did his best Kirk Gibson imitation floating his way around the bases inside Dodger Stadium just past midnight, New York time. Freeman’s bottom of the tenth inning come from behind walk off grand slam was the biggest shot ever fired at the Yankees’ legacy. “What goes around comes around,“ is an old wise saying. As Freeman jumped on home plate into a throng of powdered blue, Mantle, Martin and Ford were seen leaving one of heaven’s hottest night clubs shaking their heads in disbelief.
Down two games to zero the Yankees dragged their scolded butts back to the city that never sleeps hoping to find some of that “Bronx Bomber magic” to deliver to the fans inside the “house that Babe Ruth built”. Before game three the Yankees introduced their own form of New York rap to their pregame which turned out to be a chilling precursor to the disastrous performance the Yanks were about to present. In the top of the Dodger first Freddie Freeman was once again rounding the bases after sending Clarke Schmidt’s fastball over the short right field porch. After the first inning the Dodgers never looked back and held on to a relatively easy 4-2 victory and a 3-0 lead in the series. The Yankees salvaged a sliver of pride and avoided a sweep in game four with an 11-4 victory. “That was just a jab,” the Yankee fans boasted on Facebook. “Another jab to the ribs tomorrow and then back to L.A. to launch a couple of upper cuts.” Fans are allowed to dream but are destined to feel the pain of reality that goes along with thinking the name on the uniform will get you through it. In late October 2024, the New York Yankees took to the field determined to throw one more jab on their home turf and head back to the land of angels to throw the knockout punches on the greatest comeback in history of the World Series.
The New York Yankees took to the field last Wednesday night hoping to give their fans the kind of memories their dads had given them, and their grandfather’s had given their dad’s. Memories of Don Larson’s perfect game, or Yogi Berra jumping up and down at home plate after Jackie Robinson supposedly slid in under the tag.
Da Bums of Brooklyn hated their crosstown rivals with a unique passion. The Yankees were the cool kids the Dodgers and their fans never wanted to be like. It was always sad when I was a kid, listening to my dad, the tough kid of the Brooklyn streets lamenting on his deep-rooted hatred of the Yankees.” It got to the point where the Yankees losing made me happier than the Dodgers winning.” I couldn’t help but to think about my dad as I was watching game four Wednesday night at Yankee Stadium. When Aaron Judge dropped a routine fly, and then Soto through it in the dirt, and then Gerrit Cole forgot to cover first, all the dodgers’ demons, all the voodoo spells held over them over all these years dissipated along with the Yankee five run lead. The Dodgers won game five 7-6 for their eighth-world championship. They were returning to what Tommy Lasorda called ‘blue heaven on earth” not to play game six but to celebrate the conquering of an old nemesis. Sports rivalries run deep, none with any more passion than Yankees/Dodgers. This year the narrative of the continuing battle took a hard turn. Da Bums of Brooklyn’s laughter could be heard From The Brooklyn Bridge through the high rolling Hollywood Hills.
