Stadium lines and drives

RANDOM thoughts while checking out Dodger Stadium, L.A.’s emerald isle:

Spring doesn’t really start till you’re at your first ballgame.

Few things are better suited to the human hand than a baseball or a beer.

Note to the McCourts: Those new seats are dry now and ready for their second coat of paint.

Note to City Hall: Stadium Way ought to be renamed O’Malley Alley.

Vin Scully is baseball’s Frank Sinatra: sonorous, grandly eloquent, one of a kind.

Watching catcher Dioner Navarro run reminds me of the time a possum waddled onto the Dodger Stadium field.

Except the possum was faster to first base.

If they really wanted to punish Enron defendant Jeffrey K. Skilling, they’d make him manage the Cubs.

Does anybody not like new general manager Ned Colletti?

Cellphones should be banned at ballparks.

Or they should at least be considered very poor behavior. Like necking at a funeral.

The Dodgers will always miss Lo Duca.

So will the fans.

Spotted at last week’s Cubs series: sportscaster Bob Costas, former Mayor James K. Hahn, wonder boy Hugh Hefner.

OK, I’ll finally admit it: To me, every pickoff move looks like a balk.

But I can quote the infield fly rule in my sleep.

The best sound in a ballpark remains the ambient crowd noise between batters, sometimes punctuated by an older woman playing a church organ.

If I wanted bad rock ‘n’ roll, I’d go to a Laker game.

Or my son’s room.

Gardening tip of the day: If planted, those stale old sunflower seeds you find in your child’s batting bag will actually sprout.

My buddy Paul wonders: If pitcher Warren Spahn had been available in the off-season, would the Dodgers have signed him?

What about Wee Willie Keeler?

“I like to look down on a [baseball] field of green and white, a summertime land of Oz, a place to dream,” wrote Jim Murray.

The best baseball book remains: “Shoeless Joe” (“Field of Dreams” for the movie).

Book I can’t wait for: Times columnist Bill Plaschke’s new tome on Tommy Lasorda.

Sure, shuttle buses would be nice. But the Gold Line should’ve served Dodger Stadium.

Just like the Green Line should’ve made it all the way to LAX.

L.A.’s idea of mass transit is two people riding in a Bentley.

Does everything at the snack stand now cost 5 bucks (or more)?

If you can ban smoking, you can ban cellphones.

I don’t blame the McCourts for wanting to develop entertainment venues at Dodger Stadium. Obviously, baseball never really caught on there.

You don’t really realize how far sitcoms have fallen till you watch an old episode of “MASH” or “Night Court.”

More Murray (defending baseball’s slow pace): “If you’re in a hurry, go to an airport.”

Best year-end gift for a teacher: “The New Yorker Book of Teacher Cartoons.”

All fries should be garlic fries.

At a ballpark, all hours are happy hours.

Class-action suit waiting to happen: In the bleachers, you can’t buy a beer; in the expensive dugout section, waiters deliver mixed drinks right to your seat.

Favorite cartoon from the New Yorker book: Two dogs sitting in front of their food bowls, brimming with notebook paper. One dog says: “Oh no, not homework again.”

Best sight at a ballpark: your kid sitting next to you, face full of ice cream.

The McCourts are kind of growing on me. (Quick, somebody get me a wet sponge.)

Note to Colletti: Call (718) 507-METS. Ask for Lo Duca.

Chris Erskine can be reached at chris.erskine@latimes.com.