Georgia Has Moved On, and Now L.A. Should Too

Give it up, L.A.

Enough already with the constant criticism, snide remarks and general mean-spiritedness directed toward St. Louis Ram owner Georgia Frontiere.

Yes, she took her team and ball and went to play elsewhere. Get over it.

This is supposed to be a big, sophisticated metropolis, too big to worry whether the NFL comes back, too sophisticated to lose its collective emotions to a team unless that team does its part by winning. Yet here we are, heading into the sixth season since the Rams left Southern California, and there is still community and media whining and complaining about Frontiere, the object of envy and derision as if this was a one-gas-station village and she was the lottery winner who moved on to the big city.

Bulletin: Georgia’s Rams, now deeply rooted in St. Louis, won last year’s Super Bowl and, having shown in last week’s season opener that they haven’t lost a step on offense, are one of the favorites to win another NFL title this season.

She has gotten on with her life. It’s time L.A. fans did the same.

Grab the man on the street in Brooklyn, ask him what he thinks of Walter O’Malley and be prepared for a description of a cross between Hannibal Lecter and Darth Vader. When O’Malley moved his Dodgers to Los Angeles in 1958, they went, in the eyes of broken-hearted Brooklynites, from the lovable Bums to the evil empire.

Yet in L.A., and most of the rest of the baseball landscape, O’Malley is portrayed as a visionary who opened the West Coast to all the sports teams that followed.

Before they hated Art Modell in Cleveland, they hated Dan Reeves, who took the 1945 Rams, NFL champions no less, and moved them to L.A. for the 1946 season.

Yet Reeves is a heroic figure in L.A.’s sports past.

Hero or villain? It all depends which way the moving vans are traveling.

This is not to imply that Frontiere is necessarily the master of her good fortune.

No, she is no football expert. She didn’t know Kurt Warner from Kurt Rambis before the start of last season.

And, yes, she was probably just the figurehead in the financial wheeling and dealing that resulted in the Rams moving from a losing environment, both artistically and monetarily, in Anaheim Stadium to a winning environment in St. Louis’ Trans World Dome.

And yes, we love to snicker at her many marriages and soap-opera past. Nobody is nominating her for sainthood.

But the fact of the matter is--and this is going to be hard to swallow, L.A.--she might be best remembered in football for reigning over a dynasty.

I know, that’s hard on the eyes to read, but it’s true.

Whatever her many faults, she has prevailed over her many critics.

Besides, if this city really wants to focus its venom on someone who has abandoned it, try looking north.

Al Davis not only left L.A., even worse, he wants to come back.

Georgia may have jilted us, but at least she has the class not to ask us to court her again.

KEEPING HIS CHIN UP

After all the bragging and all the arrogance, his tongue constantly flapping in a futile search for respect, San Diego Charger quarterback Ryan Leaf has finally received it by doing just the opposite: keeping his mouth shut.

That’s not to say he doesn’t still have serious faults in his game. In last week’s opener against the Oakland Raiders, Leaf threw three interceptions, including the one that killed a final Charger drive, fumbled twice and generated only six points in a 9-6 loss.

Yet when Oakland’s Regan Upshaw buried his helmet in Leaf’s chin on a late hit, knocking down the San Diego quarterback and opening up a wound that required eight stitches, Leaf, blood everywhere, kept quiet, got patched up and got back on the field as soon as possible without so much as a whimper of self-pity.

In all, the Raiders forced a battered Leaf to the sidelines three times, but he kept coming back.

And his fellow Chargers noticed, saying he may have lost the game, but he won them over as a team.

Now if Leaf can just do something about that erratic arm.

WHY, TROY?

With quarterback Troy Aikman running the show, the Dallas Cowboys have won three Super Bowls, more than they did under Hall of Famer Roger Staubach.

Aikman was the guiding force as the Cowboys rebuilt from the ashes of a 1-15 season in 1989, soaring to even greater heights than those achieved by the legendary Tom Landry.

But now, with too many scandals, too many entries on the police blotter and too many years and too many hits on aging bodies, Dallas is fading again.

At 33, Aikman has taken his share of those hits. Last week, he suffered his ninth concussion in 12 years. At this point, no doctor can assure him he is not risking serious brain problems in later life if he keeps taking the hits.

And with an offense that is only a sad imitation of what it once was, those hits are going to keep coming.

There is nothing left for Aikman to prove. In order to grind out a few more wins, he may lose too many irreplaceable brain cells.

Retirement is your most logical option, Troy. You’ve earned it.

PASSING THE BLAME

Asked about his inconsistent quarterback, Tony Banks, Baltimore Raven Coach Brian Billick said, “He’s been through so many different systems, he kind of grab-bags out there. You can see why his style of play is what I refer to a little bit as street ball.

“But [things are better] with the good leadership from [offensive coordinator] Matt Cavanaugh, fundamentals and hearing the same things from the same guys.

“I could be as screwed up as Hogan’s goat, but at least it’s the same screwed up for Tony and that should be an advantage.”

Translation: When looking for a scapegoat for Banks’ inevitable failure, don’t blame Hogan. Blame Billick.