He’s not trying to sell Brooklyn a bridge, just the Dodgers

Dear Brooklyn,

Hope you remember us. We acquired (stole) your beloved baseball team a generation ago, swept it right out from under your hearts. It was a bold move by a petulant owner who didn’t get his way on a new stadium back then. Such tactics have been repeated ad nauseam across America ever since. As always, we were at the forefront of new trends.

Here’s the thing: We’ve been thinking it over, Brooklyn. What we did was impulsive and morally wrong. We never should have taken your Dodgers. This is awkward, sure, and we come to you with our caps in our hands. But take your Dodgers back. Please.

We’ve been thinking it over pretty carefully and we want to send them back. They belong back in New York City after all, amid the Chianti and the red-checkered tablecloths. The pewter-haired starlets who stand over heating grates in skirts. Bookies named Sol. Hairdressers named Rita.

The Trolley Dodgers were born in Brooklyn, and we now think that’s right where they belong.

In the interest of full disclosure, there are a few things you should know: The O’Malleys are gone. We ran them off when the scion, Peter — different from the old man but effective — tried to establish an NFL team here. Guess we weren’t really ready for that big step. City Hall hammered him, treating him like a gypsy cabbie.

In his place, we’ve got this bright new management team from Boston. You’ll really like him ... them ... that ... whatever. Sure, there are a few little issues still to be resolved by the courts. The good news: The commissioner will probably sign off on anything you offer.

Fortunately, these owners come with their own army of fine attorneys. What a wonderful window they provide on the American legal system. We think you’ll be impressed.

Good things are happening out on the field as well. All you’ll really need is a left fielder, catcher, second baseman, third baseman and two or three (probably four) pitchers. They are the only pieces standing between you and immediate success.

That’s right, Koufax is gone, as are Alston, Reese and the others. New York’s native son Scully is still around. He’s older than granite and twice as strong. We think of him fondly — sort of the same way you feel about Sinatra and St. Christopher statues.

He’s talking about retirement, but no one really believes that. Let the Yankees have Jeter and Rodriguez, you’ll have Scully — the genius among geniuses. And this kid Kemp can play a little. In the long term, he may make folks forget about the Duke. Stay tuned.

If you really bargain hard, we’ll probably throw in Conan O’Brien and Jay Leno too. To our mind, comedy was better when it had that frantic New York edge. There’s nothing like a little winter slush in your shoes to force you to see the humor in daily life.

Which will be a good thing once you get a look at our hitting.

What do we want in return? Well, the (football) Giants would be good. And an effective mass transit system. Some good Greek joints. Decent pizza. A few brownstones in Park Slope, the northern part, near the better trains. We’re open to negotiations.

Is Ebbets still around, or did the termites finally get it? Hey, we’ll throw in Frank Gehry to rebuild. And Christina Aguilera (she’s got a nice touch with an anthem).

Look, we hate to see baseball go, the Dodgers have become like our own children. Spoiled. Frustrating. Brilliant one day, a mess the next. We stay up late waiting for them to come home — or in their case, reach home. Young people, huh?

So maybe it’s time. Baseball is a sport that defies gravity. Heck, it defies a lot of natural laws: aging, economics, reinvention, wisdom.

What kills it is greed. So if you’ve got an individual back there who might treat running the Dodgers like a stewardship, an honor, a privilege, we’d be glad to set our beloved kids free.

Hey, are any of the Corleones still around?

Sincerely,

The fans of Los Angeles

chris.erskine@latimes.com