As Usual, He’s Main Party Pooper for USC

It’s about 1:30 in the morning after a New Year’s Eve party with Trojan fans on this exclusive plot of land, and Sharon Gless, a.k.a. Debbie Novotny on Showtime’s “Queer as Folk,” seems to find Plaschke odd. (No argument here.)

It takes a ferry ride to get off this island, and I’m hanging on for dear life to the back of the golf cart she’s driving to get us there, because I’ve challenged her. I know this is a woman who grew up with a father who loved the Trojans, and who is now married to Hollywood producer Barney Rosenzweig, who hasn’t missed a USC home game in 47 years.

I figure the woman has had a miserable life, which explains why Plaschke seems so interested in everything she has to say, but even with the chance now to start the new year fresh and admit she has had a lifetime of wasted Saturdays in the Coliseum, the actress continues to be galling, playing the role of loyal USC honk.

So I ask her while we’re wheeling around these fancy digs in the dark which one she was: “Cagney or Lacey?” and she says, “Cagney,” so I tell her, “I always liked Lacey best.”

Well, picture Mike Garrett being told Gary Beban is the best Heisman Trophy winner in Los Angeles history and then make him a woman driving a golf cart all over the road with the Atlantic Ocean just yonder, and Plaschke almost had his tear jerker.

I did manage to get in one more question, however, knowing her affection for Trojan fans and her alliance with Rosenzweig, a former USC yell leader. I asked if she could confirm the title of her current show was named in honor of Trojan fans, and after much obnoxious prodding, she said, “Yes, I can confirm that.”

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NOW THERE’S really not much to report down here in this smelly sauna because the Orange Bowl isn’t until tonight, and Carson Palmer still has the Heisman Trophy, although I keep waiting for the Florida recount and an announcement the hanging chads now indicate Miami’s Ken Dorsey has really won it.

There have been no O.J. sightings in the past 24 hours, although there was a report he had been denied a pass to join Ronnie Lott and Marcus Allen on the USC sideline. I wonder what Marcus and O.J. would’ve talked about.

Not much else to write about. Sure, everyone wants to know who is going to prevail, as if it really matters who finishes third behind Miami and Ohio State, but I haven’t seen Iowa play all year so there’s really no way of predicting how many points the Hawkeyes are going to win by tonight.

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I HAD an invitation to spend New Year’s Eve with Trojan fans, and because I’ve been shopping with the wife, I couldn’t imagine it being any more grueling.

The invite, more of a challenge really, had come from Sam Perlmutter, attorney, producer and George Foreman’s partner in the grill business, suggesting that if I spent some quality Cardinal & Gold party time with the USC faithful, I might not find them as uptight, ornery and strange as I obviously think.

He also invited Plaschke and sports editor Bill Dwyre, although I got the impression as the night went on that Dwyre had been given wrong directions and wouldn’t be showing up so we could all be assured of a good time.

We boarded a ferry, and we were told we were going to a community just named the richest in the country. The starting price for a single-family home here is $6 million, which was the reason for the whistling, and which had nothing to do with the attractive young woman from Amsterdam, who works for Playboy when not standing at the entrance to Trojan parties.

I had no idea USC’s reach extended all the way to Amsterdam, so in the spirit of good fellowship, I asked her if there were a lot of Trojans in Amsterdam, and while the language barrier was difficult, I gathered there must be a lot.

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IF ALL Trojan fans were like the young lady from Amsterdam, I see no reason why we all couldn’t get along. I was having so much fun I found myself shaking hands at midnight with attorney Tom Girardi and wishing the Trojan fan a happy new year as if I really cared.

Girardi’s new year’s wish, by the way, is to be part of the new ownership group he expects will soon purchase the Angels. You might have heard of Girardi, the real-life attorney who helped win a $333-million settlement, depicted in the movie, “Erin Brockovich.” I would think Brockovich would look great in an Angel uniform.

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I FEARED Rosenzweig might try some of his old USC yells, but beyond mocking Notre Dame once, he was well-behaved. Perlmutter tried selling a Foreman grill that cooks whole chickens, but once I promised to try one, he left me alone.

The party took an interesting turn when Rosenzweig asked his guests to stand and say something. Plaschke spoke about world peace or some other nonsense, but it seemed to go over better than my attempt to lead everyone in a chorus of “Fight, Fight, Fight on Iowa.”

The next thing I knew I was riding on a golf cart with Cagney and screaming for Lacey. I never got the chance to wish the Amsterdam Trojan a happy new year, which reminds me, why was I shaking the hand of some Trojan attorney at midnight?

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TODAY’S LAST word comes in e-mail from Mike Berry:

“As a USC fan, the article you wrote on O.J. and Garrett reminded me why I don’t normally read what you write. I am always amazed you have a job. You are simply the poorest so-called sportswriter I have ever readied.”

You probably meant “read,” but you’re not the only one who has “died” on their mind when mentioning O.J. Simpson.

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T.J. Simers can be reached at t.j.simers@latimes.com