Dodgers Secret Weapon: “V Energy” and Paralyzing Stupidity

By Brian Beckner and Travis Rodgers:

When Frank and Jamie McCourt announced that they were divorcing, Dodgers fans already knew that they were among the most despicable people ever to carpetbag their way from east to west, and that includes Jay Leno.

Maybe it was Frank’s propensity for shoving his giant surgically stretched mug into any and every television camera within a 300 mile radius? Or could it have been his insistence on occasionally sullying the pristine broadcast of the greatest Dodger ever with his trademark Bostonian burr?

It didn’t help that five minutes after arriving McCourt unceremoniously dumped Dodger broadcast icon Ross Porter in favor of a fellow east coast lightweight that to this day cannot vary his exuberance whether describing a mammoth home run or a routine grounder to short. Certainly Jamie McCourt’s assertion that the team would have to choose between signing free agents and continuing its charitable community outreach was not a particularly endearing moment for Dodger fans.  Oh, and Rick Monday still has a job.

The fact that after the stadium closes every night Frank can be seen turning it on its side to funnel every last nickel into his pocket certainly hasn’t helped his image. The news that Mr. and Ms. McCourt were funneling large salaries to their shiftless sons despite the fact that the McCourt boys didn’t actually do any “work” probably stuck in the craw of the largely blue-collar Chavez Ravine fan base.

But suddenly things have gotten infinitely worse. Worse than not paying taxes? They don’t. Worse than collecting Malibu real estate while aggressively shedding payroll? They do. Somehow despite the McCourt’s disregard for the history and tradition of the Los Angeles Dodgers in favor of their own preference for bathing in ginormous piles of freshly minted U.S. currency, the team has won games and the ever-faithful Dodger fans have kept the turnstiles humming to the tune of nearly 4 million tickets sold every year.

As anyone that’s been to a Dodger game can attest, with that many butts in the seats and the Dodgers a perennial playoff participant, Chavez Ravine is awash in spastic positive energy (and $12 Heinekens) every single night. The place is special. Apparently the strength of the Dodger crowd (with their wallets happily splayed open to Frank and Jamie’s hungry fingers) was just not enough to put them over the hump, so they hired this guy. Seriously.

From LA Times columnist Bill Shaikin:

Vladimir Shpunt, 71, lived most of his life in Russia. He has three degrees in physics and a letter of reference from a Nobel Prize winner.

He knows next to nothing about baseball.

Yet the Dodgers hired him to, well, think blue.

Frank and Jamie McCourt paid him to help the team win by sending positive energy over great distances.

Who hasn’t dropped a few hundred grand on some of that prized positive energy? Somehow, this is not a joke. This is not a euphemism. Paid to send “positive energy” means exactly that. Frank and Jamie McCourt, the two worst people in the history of the Dodgers franchise employed a medicine man, a shaman, a psychic, a snake handler with no snakes. What the hell is this guy anyway?

More from the Times:

Instead, they hired him to direct his energy to benefit the team. "Dr. Shpunt and others believe that he has the gift of providing positive energy," Dodger attorney Grossman said.

Shpunt most often dispatched the energy from his home office, in a room that included a television, chair, bed and computer, watching the Dodgers late into the evening. If the Dodgers played on the West Coast, the game usually started at 10 p.m. in Boston.

He clearly has a gift. A gift for relieving dumb rich people of their money. Awesome. He didn’t even leave his house? He sends his energy through the TV? It’s hard to believe that there is ANYONE stupid enough to believe this nonsense, much less people that own one of the legendary franchises in all of professional sports.

So the McCourts aren’t the money grubbing carpetbaggers everyone thought they were. They’re actually just morons of the highest order AND money grubbing carpetbaggers. Simpletons with access to truckloads of cash are dangerous. The McCourts took Dodger fans hard-earned money and gave it to a charlatan. For positive energy? Hey Frank, do you know who brings tons of positive energy to a baseball team, Roy Halladay.

The best part is that neither of these idiots will take credit for this act of lunacy.

More from the Times:

The McCourts, who are embroiled in a contentious divorce, declined to be interviewed about Shpunt. Through their representatives, Frank said it was Jamie's idea to hire him and Jamie said it was Frank's.

Somehow Frank and Jamie don’t realize that two idiots pointing their fingers at each other only reinforces the fact that they are the two dumbest people ever to set foot in the city of Los Angeles, Spencer and Heidi excluded.

Every time a Dodgers fan pays $10 for a beer, $5 for a hot dog or $100 for a jersey, that money doesn't go to sign their first round draft pick (which they won’t), it doesn't go for more starting pitching (it still hasn't) and it won't go into player development. It will be spent on a second-rate Russian snake handler who can’t even be bothered to attend the games, but rather lies in bed and watches the team.

These two piles of crap spend their money on multiple houses, $300 haircuts and millions on alimony and psychics, not players or serving the fans.

They set up slush fund companies using their children so they can skim more money and not have to invest in the team. They have some Yakov Smirnoff wannabe sitting in Boston (surprise?) peering into a crystal ball instead of buying, you know, baseball players? When Vin Scully dies (gulp), it’s over.

Charley Steiner's beard and inability to recognize a line drive is certainly not going to be good enough to keep the fans around once Saint Vinny checks out.

It has NEVER been more embarrassing to be a Dodgers fan than it is right now. A first place team, playing well, with a world-class manager and legitimate stars in Ethier and Kemp, and it still isn't good enough for Dodger fans to be anything other than ashamed to root for this team. Channeling positive energy? When did Art Bell buy the Dodgers? Is Miss Cleo going to be the next GM? Is Uri Geller running the draft?

Los Angeles supported the Dodgers through the coke and booze of Pedro Guerrero and Steve Howe. And while Steve Garvey was impregnating 73 percent of the west coast. When Eric Gagne was shotgunning bull semen on his way to the Cy Young, the fans sold the joint out. Never did they lose the faith. This will do what none of those things could.

News flash: there’s no such thing as super powers. Psychics are just good at recognizing people that are stupid enough to give them money. Those people are Frank and Jamie McCourt.

Eli Broad, Casey Wasserman, Philip Anschutz, David Geffen, those dudes from Orange County that own the Ducks, anyone with lots of dough, the time is now. MLB ownership is a tough club to break into, and the current membership wants a new group in Los Angeles now. One of these big money moguls needs to recognize that an opportunity exists to own one of the premiere franchises in the league. The McCourts aren’t rich enough to control the team through a divorce. The Dodgers are for sale, even if the current owners’ staff psychic hasn’t predicted it yet.

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