Groom’s Not Dashing, so Why Not a Hyphen?

So I’m taking a tour of the place where the daughter works, and I notice on her office door there’s a place to put her name, but it’s not there. She tells me she has the name plate, but because the wedding is two weeks away, she didn’t want to put up her married name yet.

Her married name? She’s a Simers. Always has been a Simers, always will be a Simers. I know her mother dropped her last name, but that’s because Simers was an upgrade over Gizzleman, and the constant reminder that Bubba I, Bubba II and Bubba III were her brothers.

I suggested a compromise, and the married name: Simers-Grocery Store Bagger. She said, “It’s too long -- and what if our kids turn out to be athletes?”

Then we’ll know the Grocery Store Bagger isn’t the father.

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I HAVE no idea where this custom of trading in a perfectly good name for all the aggravation that comes with getting a new driver’s license and credit cards began, but I pointed out to Ms. Simers that many of my favorite athletes have names like Simers-Bagger, you know, like Justine Henin-Hardenne, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Jean-Sebastien Giguere and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

I also told Ms. Simers these hyphenated names work well when everyone knows a marriage is doomed from the start. Take Chris Evert-Lloyd and Nancy Lopez-Melton -- when it came time to dump Lloyd and Melton, they just cut their losses, went back to winning and began shopping for a new husband.

Simers insisted they’ll be married forever, so I told Simers what Randy Youngman, the outstanding Page Two columnist for the Orange County Register, said when I told him I was going broke paying for a wedding: “Something like 62% of all marriages in California end in divorce.” Randy is always upbeat like that.

Simers said she’d have no problem signing a prenuptial agreement, and so I’m having one drawn up: If Simers-Bagger has to stop shopping at Ralphs any time in the next five years, I get repaid for the entire wedding.

“Come on, we’re already talking about our first baby,” the daughter said, and I’d like to take this moment to remind the Bagger he has two more weeks to wait.

“If it’s a boy, we’re going to name him Brayden,” the daughter said, and I guess Brayden Bagger has a nice ring to it. So does Alex Attorney, or Max Millionaire, but for some reason, none of this name business is quite working out as I had hoped.

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MARK IT down, the season ended for both the Dodgers and Angels on Saturday, and for each team, the end came in the eighth inning, and in similar fashion.

In Arizona the Dodgers were trailing the team they have to climb over to secure a wild-card berth, with the bases loaded and two out. Jeromy Burnitz, who certified himself as “Mr. Bunthead” a night earlier, bunting in an extra-inning game with the go-ahead run on third base and two out, fouled out this time while swinging away, and the Dodgers lost, 1-0.

In Edison Field the Angels were trailing the team they have to climb over to secure a wild-card berth, with the bases loaded and two out. Garret Anderson fouled out, and the Angels lost.

The trading deadline is Thursday, and does it really matter now?

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THE ANGELS are coming off a championship, and the memories remain. The Dodgers, meanwhile, should be ashamed, and it begins with management, which has let everyone down with its inability to respond to the team’s hitting woes.

The Dodgers/Las Vegas 51s are 4-6 since adding Burnitz and Rickety Henderson, who paid some Tyler Houston-like short-term dividends. The fact that two marginal additions had some impact, supports the argument that if something more substantial had been done, the Dodgers might still be alive.

But now Rickety is hitting below .200, Burnitz appears as if he’ll hurt himself running the bases or catching a ball, somebody named Bubba made the final out Saturday, and the last three games have been a scoring disaster.

No need to panic, though, as General Manager Dan Evans has insisted since June 21 when the Dodgers were tied for first: He knows what he’s doing.

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THE L.A. Sports & Entertainment Commission will conduct “NFL 101 For Women,” Aug. 12 at 5 p.m. in the Grand Ballroom of Hollywood & Highland, and while I’m sure it’ll be a terrific event, it has an advisory board of 23 women. I guess Kathy Schloessman, president of the commission, never got the memo about it being a man’s world. Someone isn’t doing their job, because the wife also has not gotten that memo.

ESPN’s Andrea Kremer, the best TV interviewer in the business of covering the NFL, will serve as master of ceremonies with Warren Moon, Pat Haden, Dennis Green, Ronnie Lott and Amy Trask, the brains behind the Raiders’ organization -- if you met Al Davis, you’d know what I mean -- providing expert insight into the game of football. Tickets remain available by contacting cjohnson@lasec.us -- a woman, of course.

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I GET my “Bricks” mixed up -- Vic and J.T. -- but one of them ended each report last week on 1150 AM sports-talk radio by saying: “Breaking Kobe news first -- guaranteed.” This was after informing folks what was being said on TV about Kobe’s accuser. Shouldn’t he really be saying: “Repeating Kobe gossip first -- guaranteed?”

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TODAY’S LAST word comes in e-mail from Jim Sayed:

“People like you in L.A. are the reason you don’t have a professional football team. You are lucky to have a team like the Chargers grace you with their presence. The Raiders need more jerks on their bandwagon, why don’t you [join them].”

Are you trying to tell me to just “go to jail”?

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