McCourt’s Vision Plays Out in True Blue Team Fashion

And so the gift has finally been unwrapped, torn open by a steely eyed team that could wait no longer, the wrappings of six months ripped apart to reveal something Los Angeles never expected.

Something in the most perfect shade of blue.

Something that beats, and beats, and beats.

Less than a year after collapsing under the weight of their own incompetence, the Dodgers are whole again.

A team that 11 months ago had no general manager, no manager and the third-worst record in its league has made the playoffs.

From national jokers to wild-card qualifier. From a winter of chaos to a summer of character.

From oblivion to October, that’s where the Dodgers took a storied tradition and a giddy town Saturday in a 4-2, playoff-clinching victory at the quiet and embarrassed home of the hated San Francisco Giants.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” shouted owner Frank McCourt as he was surrounded and doused by beer- and champagne-wielding players indistinguishable through their soaked clothes and dripping heads. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Isn’t that what we’ve all been talking about?

A collection of quiet veterans, anonymous role players and unknown rookies gathered as a single faceless force to shower their city with something cool and bubbly and totally unexpected.

Dancing in one corner of the plastic-wrapped Dodgers clubhouse Saturday afternoon was a singing Rafael Furcal. Or was that Wilson Betemit? Maybe it was Andre Ethier?

With all the spraying from green Moet and Chandon bottles, and blue Bud Light bottles, it was impossible to see.

Screaming in another corner was Nomar Garciaparra. Or was that Russell Martin? Surely that wasn’t J.D. Drew?

With all the hugs and chest bumps and headlocks, you couldn’t tell.

“This hasn’t just taken 25 guys, it has taken more than 25 guys, and we’ve known it, and we’ve won because of it,” said pitcher Derek Lowe. “The best thing about this team is, it’s a team.”

It has been a gift, indeed, to the organization’s amazingly loyal fans, to its commonly forgiving city, to a rich and unforgiving history of which it was never supposed to be a part.

This was a rebuilding year, remember? This was a gap year, right?

That was the plan back when McCourt cleaned house last fall, firing former general manager Paul DePodesta just weeks after DePodesta fired former manager Jim Tracy.

In only his second full season as owner, McCourt realized he had blown it in some of his original hires, and he wasn’t afraid to become nationally scorned by admitting it.

“I am not afraid to fail in order to succeed,” McCourt said Saturday.

Eleven months later, this is why he was one guy in the celebrating clubhouse who stood out.

His dress shirt soaked through to his skin, his hair slick with liquor, he embraced this playoff berth much tighter than the division championship in his first season, and with good reason.

Not one player from the Dodgers’ last clinching team in 2004 played in this game. Only three players from that team are active on this team.

This season was not about McCourt’s inheritance. This season was about McCourt’s vision.

This is his team. This is his plan. For all the mostly justifiable criticism he has endured, this was his moment.

“I’m telling you, I have always just wanted one thing,” McCourt said. “I have always just wanted to win.”

Standing a few feet away was another unmistakable presence, wearing a wet Dodger T-shirt and a starry stare.

“You look around and you want to thank people and you don’t even know where to begin,” said Ned Colletti.

The actual construction began with him, the man McCourt hired to fix things, the rookie general manager who was given a losing team and unwieldy contracts and little chance.

As a lifetime baseball man, he understood only one thing: that you win not with numbers but with humans.

And although the Dodgers may not have the best statistics among this year’s playoff teams, they certainly lead the league in relentless humans.

“You have to believe in the heart of the individual, you have to listen to that heart, that’s all I’ve done here,” he said. “I knew I had my hands full. But I also knew it was possible to find that heart.”

Typically, perfectly, the Dodgers’ clinching victory Saturday was all about that heart.

They scored their third and eventual winning run when Kenny Lofton, a Colletti acquisition, scored on a sacrifice fly to the second baseman.

“He saw that Ray Durham had relaxed for a second, and he took off,” said third base coach Rich Donnelly. “Kenny Lofton may be one of the smartest baserunners in baseball history.”

They scored their fourth run when Jeff Kent, steaming from first base on a double by J.D. Drew, ran through Donnelly’s stop sign at third base and dived home ahead of the relay from a stunned Ray Durham.

Said Kent: “I had built up too much steam, I couldn’t stop.”

Said Donnelly: “I was shouting, ‘Whoa’ and he was saying, ‘Go!’ ”

It was like that all year, wasn’t it? Every time it seemed as if the Dodgers were a “Whoa,” they stormed into a “Go.”

The roller coaster finally seemed to derail on July 26, after they had lost 13 of 14 games and were in last place in the West Division, 7 1/2 games behind the leading San Diego Padres.

Three days later, with some Dodgers fans pleading for him to forsake the season and protect the farm system, Colletti ignored them and threw up a Hail Mary.

His name was Greg Maddux, and how appropriate that it was the future Hall of Famer, struggling for the Chicago Cubs when he was acquired for favorite kid Cesar Izturis, was on the mound Saturday.

He allowed two runs in seven innings while throwing 55 strikes and just 16 balls.

He stole second base -- seriously -- while pitcher Matt Cain held the ball on the mound.

He won for the sixth time in 11 Dodgers starts while continuing to lower a team earned-run average that has dropped a full half-run since he joined them.

But Maddux’ best number is this: The Dodgers are 37-19 since he joined them.

“The minute he walked into my office after I traded for him, I had this sense of calmness that I haven’t lost since,” Colletti said.

It is a calmness that, finally, was cemented in the stone sculpture that is Grady Little’s glare.

The first-year Dodgers manager is the third and final guy who stood out in the clubhouse Saturday, mostly because he didn’t stand out, spending much of the party sipping champagne by himself in his office.

“This is all about the players,” said Little. But don’t believe it.

It was his temperament that the Dodgers kids followed. It was his patience that the veterans appreciated.

Having been fired by the Boston Red Sox for a controversial pitching decision in Game 7 of the 2003 American League championship series, he appreciates much and fears little.

Typically, on Saturday he waited with his coaches in the dugout while his players celebrated on the field. Also, typically, he refused to act contented with any of it.

“We’ve got a lot of baseball left to play,” he said, and Dodgers fans can only hope he’s right, that theirs is a gift that will keep on giving.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. To read previous Plaschke columns, go to latimes.com/plaschke.