Sorry, Erin, but he’ll be waltzing off to Arizona

So our Chris Dufresne dumps “Dancing With the Stars’ ” Erin Andrews, and although I don’t want to go into the sordid details, now I find out she’s mine on the rebound if I want her.

“Chris Dufresne suggested I reach out directly to you,” writes PR executive Michelle Flores, no surprise when you consider the alternatives were Dwyre & Plaschke.

From what Flores writes, Erin would love to talk to me Monday, so obviously Andrews knows nothing about me.

Flores writes that Andrews wants to talk about “her return as ESPN’s ‘College GameDay’ host, her new initiative with StubHub and even give commentary on the new season of ‘Dancing With the Stars.’ ”

That sure sounds like a one-way conversation. I already get that every night at home.

No mention in the request why Andrews initially reached out to Dufresne. I just don’t picture Andrews and Dufresne together.

These are the kind of sports people I do, in part because of my experience with Frank & Jamie McCourt, which explains why someone also wants me to talk to Kato Kaelin, Amy Fisher, Joey Buttafuoco, the Octomom and Jose Canseco on Monday.

That reminds me, I sure do miss Mike Garrett.

Kaelin will be fighting Lindsay Lohan’s father, Michael, in November, so they want to hype it now. Buttafuoco will be boxing Amy’s husband, Lou, and I presume Canseco is scheduled to take on his own ego.

Anyway, that’s one busy Monday, especially when Monday is also the day when Rick Neuheisel talks without substance to the media.

So Monday I’m off to Arizona.

The Dodgers will be playing their three final games, and I thought Frank and I might sit down to discuss his hiring me as his new image consultant.

I know he’s already paying Howard Sunkin to be his friend, so he wouldn’t be hiring me to be that.

The guy who has been Frank’s image maker gave notice recently to take a job with the Arizona Diamondbacks.

“Thanks for the opportunity, but [Frank] will decline to speak with you,” came the Dodgers’ immediate reply.

I wonder if he would talk to Amy Fisher or Jose Canseco if given the chance. Erin Andrews?

I can understand why Frank might be quick to say I’m not the right person for the job because he’s always wrong.

Had he taken my advice from the start, he would never have owned the Dodgers, had his reputation annihilated and wound up living in a hotel.

I knew the marriage was in trouble before he did, the wife arriving in their luxury box most nights and turning her cheek so her husband could kiss it. The wife turns the cheek, and the next thing you know she wants a chauffeur to drive her home.

I would have warned him about that just as I tried to do when the team’s trainer and GM pulled a fast one on him and signed Jason Schmidt.

If only he would listen to me.

He hires me, of course, and I have to leave Page 2. Is there any other way for Frank to become popular again in this city? Neuheisel probably dedicates his next win to him, whether it’s here or wherever he’s working next.

As it is, I already have experience working for a company that’s bankrupt. And salary shouldn’t be a problem; five years, $5 million guaranteed ought to do it, and the Dodgers will get a whole lot more out of me than Juan Uribe for seven times that amount.

He could hire me and then fire me the next day; I think he’s still paying off Andruw Jones.

If the judge rules Frank & Jamie are 50-50 owners of the Dodgers, the wife ends up paying half of my salary. I’m sure Frank would love to see the look on the Screaming Meanie’s face when she learns that.

Obviously, I won’t be referring to the boss as the Boston Parking Lot Attendance anymore. I’ll start giving the media nicknames — you know, like Jim over-the Hill and Vin Scully. I’m a lot of things, but not stupid.

If we don’t get together in Arizona, I guess I’ll just pass the time with Kirk Gibson, who did such a great job this year.

Gibson and I talked a few years back. Gibson wanted to be a manager, the Dodgers had an opening, and Gibson couldn’t understand why the Dodgers weren’t showing any interest in him.

He asked if I might check on it for him.

How could I tell him McCourt wouldn’t take my call, or pay me $1 million a year to work as his mouthpiece and make him appear smarter?

All I could do was write a column, hoping McCourt might get the message. I did so on Nov. 10, 2005.

“So how come the Dodgers haven’t called Kirk Gibson?” I wrote. “The Dodgers are in need of a jolt, and Gibson’s working as hitting instructor or bench bully might juice things up.”

Gibson lacked experience as a manager at the time, so I didn’t think the Dodgers would go for that. Funny now, or maybe not; they have Don Mattingly working with no such experience.

I quoted Gibson in the column six years ago saying, “The O’Malleys are gone. But Dodger blue is something that still means something. It represents consistency; that’s what everyone remembers about the Dodgers — competing year in and year out.”

Frank then hired Grady Little.

I don’t know what it is, but Frank just won’t listen to me. I’ll keep that in mind when I get a call in a few years and someone wants me to interview Frank before his boxing match with Danny Bonaduce.

t.j.simers@latimes.com