Finally, the McCourts Can Get Some Respect

The new sports editor takes over Monday, which is great news for the Dodgers and those of us who have had our hands tied and would like to show our support for the Big Blue Crew.

As you’ve guessed by now, it was Dwyre who had me calling the lovely and talented Jamie McCourt, the “Screaming Meanie,” and her husband, Frank McCourt, the visionary businessman, the “Boston Parking Lot Attendant.”

It has been tough duty, obviously the name-calling not coming easy, and while Dwyre is still going to be on the job in some capacity, it’s pretty well understood around here that no one has to listen to him any more.

So I thought it’d be a good idea to spend time with Jamie & Frank, maybe smooth things over, and talk about all the improvements to Dodger Stadium, and oh boy, the news that Jeff Kent will be here another year.

As we stood on the edge of the rubble, the construction continuing all around us to improve the stadium, I joked with Frank, asking him if he ever looks out upon Chavez Ravine and all the Dodger parking lots and dreams of the old days when he was a land developer and the so-called Boston Parking Lot Attendant?

Frank laughed, and while there might be condos dancing in his head, the work being done on the stadium suggests it’s not going to be torn down any time soon.

Every seat has been replaced, 150,000 square feet of concrete repaired, “bringing life back to concrete like it was new,” Frank said, and I got a chill hearing him say something concrete for the first time.

The new box seats, complete with tables and even an unobstructed view of the field, are terrific, and might make most fans forget they’re sitting in baseball’s fourth oldest park.

“It’s a good day,” Jamie said, while putting her hand on my arm, and I said, “Yes, it is, we’ve been waiting for Dwyre to hang it up for some time.”

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“I’M NOT screaming and I’m not mean,” Jamie protested. “You’ve got to change my nickname.”

I thought of some of the names Dwyre had suggested, and thought it might be best to leave it up to her. But we got sidetracked talking about stadium improvements, so I have no idea what to call Frank’s old lady.

Talking improvements, I took for granted the rat, who was living in a hot dog stand last year, had moved on, and Frank’s old lady said, “I sure hope so,” and I don’t know what more assurances fans need than that.

She wanted to know why I hadn’t called to have lunch again, and I said it had been “such an ordeal,” and I hope she didn’t take that the wrong way.

“Don’t you want to hear what Frank has to say?” she said, urging me to join her old man, but I wanted her opinion on the color of the new seats because she’s a woman. As a reporter, I’m paid to notice such things.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, describing the lower seats as “mustard” in color, the loge “salmon,” and while wanting to call the next level “robin egg blue,” she went with “sea foam.”

I tried not to sound like Richard Simmons when I asked, “and what are your feelings about the top level?”

“Sky blue,” she said, while grabbing my arm again. “It’s all good,” she added, and while it was tough taking notes with her hanging on me, it’s a good thing I’ve had experience dealing with Salma Hayek.

The outfield walls are “stadium blue,” a kind of turquoise, just as they were in 1962 -- although I’m not sure that includes the six large advertisements -- as opposed to “Dodger blue,” because the idea is not to have the fans, who are dressed in Dodger blue, blend into the walls.

I got that tidbit from the Tipper Gore Lady, who does the PR for the McCourts, and if she remains helpful, one of these days I’m going to learn her name

When I returned from the stadium, Dwyre was still hanging around, so I had to tell him Frank expects the team to draw more than 4 million fans, and his old lady, while in jest, I think, said “pretty soon we’ll be talking 5 to 6 million.”

The first thing Dwyre does is have someone pull out a calculator to prove stadium capacity allows the Dodgers to draw only 4.6 million a season, so maybe the Screaming Meanie, as he calls her, is talking about adding another deck to the stadium. He says, this is breaking news.

If I’ve said it once behind his back, I’ve said it a hundred times, this is what happens when people hang around too long in the same job.

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“IT’S ALL about the fans,” Frank said when we got together, and so I wanted to know what he had in mind for replacing the “Hee-Seop Choi” chant now that he’s gone.

“No-mar, No-mar,” the Tipper Gore Lady began to chant, which is a little too close to “No More, No More,” for my taste -- especially on the days when Odalis Perez is pitching.

By this time we had moved outside the stadium to the Loge Terrace, a new picnic area leading into the stadium, a picture of Derek Lowe above the entrance.

“Any thought of calling this the ‘Carolyn Hughes Gate’ so people know how to find it?” I suggested, and Frank smiled, obviously knowing how far we had come in our relationship -- and I’d never write such a thing in the paper.

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ONE MORE compliment, as it relates to the Dodgers. It’s nice the team schedules a stop in Las Vegas at the end of spring training, so the guys can get their bets in before the season begins.

T.J. Simers can be reached at t.j.simers@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Simers, go to latimes.com/simers.