TOM HOFFARTH on THE DODGERS: Mayday call finally gets answered

TOM HOFFARTH on THE DODGERS: Mayday call finally gets answered

Posted:   05/01/2012 10:20:30 PM PDT

Closure officially came a day later than the one we had circled on the calendar.

Maybe that's how it was supposed to happen. On May 1, the distant cries of mayday finally could cease.

Dodgers fans could come to shore from their lifeboats, stop bailing water and take a nice, warm shower.

The successful wire transfer of $2 billion-plus apparently takes more than just the 30 days mandated by the courts.

There's a devil in the details, we've been led to believe.

Meaning that when Frank McCourt's involved, you need lawyers, judges and priests with expertise in exorcisms to sign off on it.

At last, the ownership deed was formally pried away from the clutches of an overburdened divorcee and assumed by a gaggle of apparently overloaded investors under the banner of Guggenheim Baseball Management.

Next up is a big coming-out party this morning at Dodger Stadium to put a new face on the franchise, with the blessing of Vin Scully, Tommy Lasorda, L.A. mayor Antonio Villaraigosa and anyone else who has an employment stake or access to free tickets invited to attend.

Dodgers history turns the page on a new chapter. One that doesn't have a number after it in the title.

"The Dodgers emerge from the Chapter 11 reorganization process having achieved its objective of maximizing the value of the Dodgers through a successful plan of reorganization, under which all claims will be paid," the team said in a statement Tuesday, just a day after the April 30 deadline came and went for orders to have the sale completed.

"The Dodgers move forward with confidence - in a strong financial position; as a premier Major League Baseball franchise; and as an integral part of and representative of the Los Angeles community."

And with fans ceasing and desisting their picket-line protests along Sunset Boulevard. Many actually are driving back over the hill to return to the park.

The Dodgers, with the best record in the National League, rank sixth in Major League Baseball overall attendance at the moment, averaging more than 39,500 a game in 12 home dates.

They come off a weekend series against Washington in which they exceeded 44,000 each night and hit 54,000-plus for a bobblehead giveaway.

A year ago, when owner outrage collided with deviance to create the worst attendance backlash in recent memory, the Dodgers were 11th overall and failed to crack 3 million, filling seats at just 64 percent capacity.

McCourt's third-base dugout seats can be filled by Magic Johnson. Or Stan Kasten. Or Mark Walter. Or maybe they can work out some kind of time share.

McCourt was at the stadium Tuesday, introducing Dodgers employees to the Guggenheim team headed by Walter. Soon to be taking the office of CEO is Kasten, the former Atlanta Braves and Washington Nationals president.

Somewhere, Magic also will get a desk and chair, for having pulled this all together as the front man. They might as well build another statue for him out beyond center field. Then, start creating a bobblehead in his honor.

From a presentation standpoint, that's how this all lands in the laps of Dodgers fans.

Magic Johnson is the epitome of showmanship and fun.

Frank McCourt shows what can happen to someone fundamentally flawed.

I have a letter McCourt sent to me March 24, 2006.

It was in response to my mailing him a copy of the new book, "Fun is Good," written by Mike Veeck, the maverick minor-league baseball owner and son of the late Hall of Fame owner Bill Veeck.

Just a couple of years after buying the team for a mere $430 million, McCourt faced a media backlash at the time for botched attempts at attracting fans - remember "Two Dollar Tuesday"? - as that 2005 squad finished 20 games below .500.

In thanking me for the book, he said: "It certainly looks like a fascinating commentary on the success of different types of business environments and I look forward to reading it."

I have no idea if he ever did, but I could see his attention to detail left something to be desired.

He misspelled my name.

We didn't know at that time that he and his wife, Jamie, already were having all kinds of fun on the Dodgers' dime. A $21 million home in Brentwood came in April 2004. By July 2007, they put down another $27 million for a home in Malibu. And then $19 million for the place next door.

The McCourts had good fun, all right, until their union went the way as many do in L.A., and ownership issues of the franchise that came out in divorce proceedings smelled of unethical behavior.

"I think we just got over our skis," McCourt explained last year during another round of media spin, apparently unaware the last time it snowed in Los Angeles was 50 years ago.

Guilty in the court of public opinion on charges of fan abuse, Ballpark Frank might need a probation-officer escort to get within 50 yards of the stadium entrance again. But somehow he has access to a steam shovel that can be fired up if the parking lots around Dodger Stadium ever are converted into some kind of profit-making establishments.

And that's all OK with everyone in the MLB bankruptcy claims adjustors' office? Because that $1 billion windfall from this devilish transaction isn't enough?

Eight years and a few months after Bud Selig officially welcomed him to the ownership cartel, in the wake of a botched attempt by Fox and Rupert Murdoch to turn the team into a TV-generating dynasty, McCourt leaves with no World Series titles, a few trips to the postseason and that free copy of "Fun is Good."

McCourt must know of the old Irish blessing: "May you be in Dodger blue heaven a full half-hour before the fans know you're dead."

Add to that: Don't let the door to Magic Johnson's limo hit you on the way out.