Longtime Long Beach PT columnist uses column to troll for chicks?

This is just bizarre.

Long Beach Press-Telegram columnist Doug Krikorian uses his Friday column as a mixture of sports opinions and local gossip. Lately, he's been inserting little blurbs about local hotties - for what reason I have no idea, except as a way to hit on them.

Larry King would be jealous.


http://www.presstelegram.com/sports/ci_4199931

Credit where credit is due: Dodgers doing well
Doug Krikorian
Staff columnist

As one can remember in the bad old days of Paul DePodesta and Darren Dreifort and Hee-Seop Choi and Jeff Weaver and Buddy Carlyle and Norihiro Nakamura, ad nauseam, the owners of the Los Angeles Dodgers, Frank & Jamie McCourt, came under withering criticism.

It was bad enough the McCourts got rid of a revered fixture of the Dodger airwaves, Ross Porter, but they compounded that transgression by propping up a computer nerd, Mr. DePodesta, to manage their operation.

It wasn't exactly a stunning development that Mr. DePodesta turned out to be a dud, and the McCourts became the media's favorite punching bags in 2005 as the Dodgers unraveled scandalously during a 71-91 season.

The McCourts were ranked right there on the Southern California popularity list with smog, traffic congestion, landslides, graffiti, hillside fires and earthquakes, but they would make a decision last November that would dramatically change the fortunes of their team as well as the public image of themselves.

They hired Ned Colletti to become their new general manager - they admitted their mistake of employing Mr. DePodesta by firing him - and the rest, as they say, has turned into glorious Dodger Blue lore.

The Dodgers have been the hottest team in baseball this month, and have vaulted into first place in the NL West Division, as Colletti has on the fly assembled a patchwork group of seasoned performers and skilled youngsters that extricated itself from a 1-13 post-All Star drought to a 17-2 tear that has Colletti destined for Executive of the Year honors and that has cast the McCourts in a more positive light.

Indeed, if one can deride the McCourts when the Dodgers were struggling and long-time employees were involuntarily leaving, one also must have a sense of justice and laud them when the Dodgers are streaking and the organization is stabilizing.

The McCourts have to be doing something right these days, as droves of loyalists crowd into Dodger Stadium on a regular basis and the team, on life support only a few weeks ago, suddenly has been winning with a consistency unmatched by any other in the franchise's history for more than a century.

Who are these guys performing such unexpected magic?

No Eric Gagne any longer, but who cares because Takashi Saito now comes to the rescue. Takashi Saito? In case you're wondering, he's a 36-year-old rookie from Japan who went to what college? You guessed it, Tottoku Fukushi University.

OK, I know who Nomar Garciaparra is, although I didn't recognize his modest work the past couple of seasons when he was with the Chicago Cubs.

And, certainly, I'm aware who Jeff Kent is, as well as Rafael Furcal and J.D. Drew and Kenny Lofton and Brad Penny and Derek Lowe and Aaron Sele and Brett Tomko and Colletti's latest pickup, Greg Maddux.

But who in tarnation is Andre Ethier? Now I know who Andre 3000, aka Andre Benjamin, is - the charismatic front man of Outkast.

But I wasn't aware who this Dodger Andre was before Colletti plucked him away from the Oakland A's and before he became a serious Rookie of the Year candidate with his .338, 11 HR, 48-RBI numbers.

And what about Wilson Betemit, another Colletti trading deadline acquisition along with Maddux? The Atlanta Braves' John Schuerholz is too smart to give away a promising young third baseman, isn't he?

But Betemit seems to fit perfectly with the Dodgers, as have almost all the men Colletti has brought in with the notable exception of left-hander Mark Hendrickson.

And there are others who are making contributions like Joe Beimel and James Loney and Olmedo Saenz and Giovanni Carrara and Jonathan Broxton that aren't exactly household names in this country's athletic landscape.

 

But the Dodgers are on the upswing, and Grady Little, excommunicated from Boston for his disastrous 2003 Game 7 pitching miscalculation against the New York Yankees - he fell asleep in the Red Sox dugout and forgot to yank Pedro Martinez until it was too late - is managing the team with a deft touch.

But it's Mr. & Mrs. McCourt who are reaping the most benefits from the Dodgers' rapid ascension, as they no longer are the ceaseless targets of mockery on sports talk radio, not to mention in the columns of sporting authors.

They have given Ned Colletti the financial latitude to bring in high-priced players - e.g. Rafael Furcal, Greg Maddux, etc. - and they also are responsible for setting in motion the team's startling turnabout when they sacked Mr. DePodesta and brought in Colletti.

Relentlessly pilloried during the first couple of years of their incumbency, the McCourts now can take a well-deserved bow, for, irrespective of Wednesday's 15-4 debacle against Florida, the Dodgers seem destined for a postseason appearance in which they can't be underestimated. . .

I winced when I saw a friend of mine, the Angels' second baseman Adam Kennedy, charge out to the mound the other evening and throw a punch so amateurish that it was no threat to do more damage than what's dispensed during a pillow fight among sorority sisters.

 

The next time I see Adam, I think I'm going to teach him how to throw a left hook. . .

The Angels should be fighting mad, all right, at the way the Oakland A's are pulling away from them. . .

Mike Scioscia says he didn't say anything to Vladimir Guerrero after Guerrero committed two disastrous base-running blunders against the New York Yankees last Saturday. Why not? I guess in Scioscia's eyes Guerrero's superstar status precludes his having to endure criticism. No wonder Guerrero keeps making irritating running and throwing mistakes. . .

I've always prided myself on my capacity to perceive the transitory nature of everything, from jobs to businesses to stadiums to homes to teams to restaurants to relationships to life itself.

It's an odd gift that has spoiled all my joys, if not sensations. . .

Ran into one of my all-time favorite waitresses, Bashful Becky Gilliam, who is really not that bashful but who really is quite lovely, the other evening at Mahe in Seal Beach, and she has taken her uniquely comedic act down to Scott's in Costa Mesa after memorable tours at the Fish Tale and King's Fish House in Long Beach. Ms. Gilliam was a popular cheerleader at Jordan High during her prep days, and still is searching for Mr. Right that, alas, never has been me, as she always kiddingly-on-the-square addresses me as Mr. Wrong. . .

One of this city's sacred mid-summer traditions - the Long Beach Surf Club's party - will be staged Saturday night between 7-12 at Pete's At The Beach, with the Elm Street Band providing entertainment for what always is a festive affair. Tickets can be purchased at the door for $20, and such icons of surfing as Tim Whelen, Surf Bob Edmondson, Mark (Mankind) Edmondson and the international playboy, John (Nature Boy) Narz, will be present for a charitable event that raises money for such environmental groups as Groundswell Society, Team Survivor and Surfrider Foundation. . .

Never realized that Debbie Mayfield's very own Elvis Presley, Denny Mayfield, the former Wilson High and Long Beach City College football star, had played such a dramatic impact on the development of the Philadelphia Phillies terrific second baseman, the Poly High graduate Chase Utley, until I read about Mayfield's role in a Sports Illustrated story last week. The Utleys at the time lived across the street from the Mayfields, and, apparently, Denny taught young Chase how to hit during games of whiffle ball in the neighborhood. . . .

The old retired movers, shakers and oil drillers of Signal Hill, J.B. Graner, J.R. (Tim) Cockriel, Harry Rilling, Robert W. Lee, George Papadakis and a few others can be found each morning solving the world's problems in the back room at Curly's over breakfast and coffee. Incidentally, Papadakis was a three-term mayor of Signal Hill in the 1970s, but, strangely, is not related to the Papadakis family of Palos Verdes. . .

 

Terrorists never will keep me from air travel. I've always taken the position it's a far more dangerous proposition navigating the local freeways than, say, flying to Europe, which I plan to do late next month. . .

Will someone please find Vic (SigAlert) Cegles some permanent lodgings?

Found Woody Allen's "Scoop" a scream. . .

I break out in laughter when someone tells me I'm in denial about something. Tell me one human being who isn't in such a constant state. After all, we all must live with the harrowing reality that we're not - to say the least - eternal. . .

The Long Beach State president, Dr. King (The Boy Wonder) Alexander spoke at a session of the National Conference of State Legislators convention Wednesday in Nashville. . .

Believe It Or Not, In Real Life, He's Actually A Multi-Millionaire Environmental Contractor: Bad Stu Ledsam, one of the founders of the Belmont Shore Rugby club, is set to accompany the team to England next month, but doesn't know when he will leave, where he will stay, or how many exhibition matches the Belmont troops will play. Only a bachelor has the sovereignty to be so unorganized. . .

Birthday Wishes: Frank Duffy, the father of Steve (Son of Bob) Folger's adorable squeeze, Fearless Frankie Pennington - is celebrating his 80th Saturday. Mr. Duffy was a legendary Long Beach lifeguard in the 1940s and 1950s - he had a four-year tour with the Navy during that span - and eventually went to work for Union Oil and retired in 1995.

And on Sunday, Joltin' Joe Vida, who once owned a famous tavern on Century Blvd. called the Bachelor, is blowing out candles on No. 72. I used to stop at the Bachelor during those long ago days when I was a Laker beat writer and the bartender was the former Los Angeles Rams' lineman Frank Fuller. I often drank with Fuller's best friend, Phil Crosby's, one of Bing's kids. Sadly, Fuller and Crosby have departed the scene. Vida still resides in Lomita, where he's been for 37 years since arriving here from Dubois, Pa. . . .

If Lana Turner were discovered at a drugstore soda fountain in Hollywood, then I see no reason the dazzlingly gorgeous Laura Mafla can't be discovered at the front counter at the 24 Hour Fitness on Bellflower Blvd. I haven't seen many young ladies on TV, film, or in fashion magazines who can match this olive-skinned 5-foot-8 Long Beach State junior sociology major from Diamond Bar with the high cheekbones, feline-blue eyes and affable disposition. . .

The former Long Beach Memorial Hospital director of information, Ron Yukelson, dropped me a line about the fight referee Dr. James Jen Kin, and recalled an incident at the 1984 Olympic Games when he served as publicist and Jen Kin as medical director of the boxing venue.

"I'll always remember how Dr. Jen Kin encountered a very scared boxer in the locker room from a Communist country, and told the doctor he knew he would be overmatched and how he would be persecuted for losing when he returned to his country," relates Yukelson, who's now an administrator at the Sierra Vista Regional Medical Center in San Luis Obispo. "Well, Dr. Jen Kin examined the boxer's wrist and, lo and behold, discovered without the aide of an X-ray that it was broken. He immediately put it in a long cast and DQ'd him from the games. I could remember the look of relief on the boxer's face. It was always great working with Dr. Jen Kin both at the Games and in Long Beach because of his compassion and ethics." . . .

I wish I were in Boston this week just to feel the electrifying ambiance that will be present throughout the city for the five game series between the Yankees and Red Sox. . .

 

Pretty sure this violates fair use.

 

I'm sure he's counting on people to stop reading before getting to the paragraphs in question.

I know I wanted to.

 

This column is worthless without pictures.

 

I worked with Dougie way back when (1989-91). His personality was as large as his Cadillac. It's just what he does.

It's shtick, like Simers and Keisser and the other L.A. inkhead columnists.

 

Wasn't it Bobby Knight who said something along the lines of "Most people learn to write by the fourth grade"?

This guy apparently never did.

 

You asked.

 

Dougie's wife died after a very long and very public bout with cancer, which he spoke about at length during his radio gig with Joe McDonnel. His readers know this and know that his tame flirting in print is part of the character that makes him arguably the most beloved sports columnist in SoCal.