Dodger Fans Still Have First-Place Complaints

Looking over the major league statistics in Sunday’s Times, I figured out how to improve the Dodger players: Trade ‘em!

JORDAN AUSTIN

Port Hueneme

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The Dodgers have no chance of winning in 1999 through 2005, not with these players and manager:

Davey Johnson: “I like the makeup of this team.”

Eric Karros: “It’s too early.”

Todd Hundley: “I am in spring training.”

Carlos Perez: “I am not a reliever.”

Raul Mondesi: “I don’t *&%$#@ about this team.”

Gary Sheffield: “Why don’t people like me?”

Eric Young: “I am hurt.”

ARMANDO HERNANDEZ

South Pasadena

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The coddling, bend-over “feel-good” man managing the Dodgers is not the man we hired. We hired a feisty winner who wasn’t afraid to get in the faces of his players almost as energetically as he does the faces of the umpires who kick him out.

I want the scrapping, kick-ass Davey Johnson, not Deepak Chopra.

STEVE SMITH

San Gabriel

*

Dodgers? “Dem Bums” never fit better! A general manager who speaks in empty corporate lingo. A manager who seems to have less emotion than Billy Russell. A store-bought team of “superstars” that couldn’t screw in a light bulb together. A left fielder who started the season whining about not being able to wear a goatee and jewelry. A right fielder with a foul mouth and a drunk-driving bust. Choke artists who ought to be poster boys for the Heimlich maneuver. Rumormongers who constantly dangle Eric Karros, the only consistently great ballplayer they have, as trade-bait.

Yes, the 1999 Dodgers have actually accomplished the miraculous: They have made Russell, Fred Claire and the Piazza-led underachievers seem like paragons of baseball excellence.

JAMES MAXWELL

Thousand Oaks

*

Astute manager of the year should go to Felipe Alou, who smelled a rat in the dungeon and chose not to accept the Dodgers’ offer. A smart guy like that should be admired by all of baseball.

ARTHUR LEWIS

Dana Point

*

Win or lose, the true fan must admit that there is nothing quite like relaxing in the backyard on a summer eve and listening to the sweet charm of Vin Scully. For many of us, it is a way of life that dates back to the ‘50s. That being said, would someone tell me why this simple pleasure must now be punctuated by the pops, buzzes and directional interference that accompany every evening broadcast?

It is more than annoying that a ballclub owned by one of the largest media conglomerates on the planet must air its games on a rinky-dink station with reception only slightly better than a ham radio.

BUD CHAPMAN

Northridge

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Kevin Malone, L.A. Times, Aug. 14, 1999: “We inherited some situations we’re still trying to fix, but we’re moving forward.”

Actually, what you and Mr. Murdoch “inherited,” sir, was generally regarded as the finest sports organization in the history of organized athletics. I defy you to find anyone who still thinks it qualifies as such.

J. GREGORY WILSON

Santa Monica