What a Difference a Day Makes

For you kids out there, i.e., anybody born after Elvis Presley burst on the music scene, there once was a time when there were words to music to match melody, words one could remember (and not have to learn a new language to do so). In that time of dinosaurs, there was a popular crooning (a strange word to the young as there is no such thing anymore) song entitled "What A Difference A Day Makes."

The song ought to become the Dodgers new theme song. Both Vin Scully and Tommy Lasorda were around then. Vin will remember the words as he has remembered all the good ones from Billy Shakespeare to the present. Tommy might vaguely remember but unfortunately the words he remembers the most are usually limited to his own.

The Dodgers, deader than Hillary Clinton's chances of becoming president in 6 1/2 weeks, as we opined last week, had a Lazarus-like epiphany and are not only breathing into their second (ugh) road series, they still have a 4 1/2 game lead even after the loss to Colorado in the final game of that series. Cincinnati is to thank for that.

As they used to say in Brooklyn, who'd a thunk it?

Back in the days when "What A Difference A Day Makes" was popular, comedians resorted more often than not to ethnic humor. Kids, many things were not yet politically incorrect.

Amos 'an Andy were the rage. Back in those days, there was a popular joke, at the expense of Polish Americans, who, like the Irish and the Canadians and the Italians - anybody but WASPS (aka White Anglo Saxon Protestants), were considered by Ivy Leaguers and others to be somewhat deficient between the ears, kind of like big league managers and general managers.

The joke goes (it takes two people to tell it):

I want you to ask me two questions.

Okay.

The first question is 'Is it true you're the world's greatest living Polish comedian?'

Okay, I got it.

The second question is 'Do what do you attribute your success?'

Okay.

Ask me the first question.

"Is it true you're the world's greatest living Polish comedian?"

That's right.

"Do what..."

"TIMING!"

Like in that joke, poor taste and all, lies the history of the Dodgers 2008 season. Timing.

Half a month ago, the Dodgers stunk, kinda' like week-old fish (this being a sports gig rather than politics, we can still use such words). Today, they are smelling like roses. Same guys, same manager, same GM, but the world has changed in what seems like a blink of any eye.

The Dodgers were bad. It turns out Arizona was worse.

As the old saying goes, "I'd rather be lucky than good!"

In long seasons, almost every team, even the bad ones and so-so ones (the Dodgers are at least one if not the other) has one lucky streak where the hits fall in, they get rather than are bit by the tweeners, where the other team's hardest hit balls are at 'em balls and yours find the gaps.

The Dodgers are having their's right now. Very timely too. Doesn't make Joe Torre any smarter (he's still using Mark Sweeney isnt he?).

P.S. next time the Dodgers redo Andre Ethier's contract, would they please consider giving him a bonus if he refrains from conjugal performances at such times as the result could require his absence when we need him?

P.P.S. Urgent new flash to whomever will be the Dodgers GM after the season. A story in the Atlanta Constitution over the weekend has the Braves figuring out their losing season was due to "too many old pitchers".

Since the Braves have suckered the Dodgers into taking their over the hill or injury prone guys in recent years, please avoid the impulse to continue the same pattern.

Brains in every front office being what they are these days, consider this: please do not spend any McCourt dollars on Mssrs. Glavine or Smoltz or Hampton or even Forgot How To Hit Francouer (this year's Andruw Jones).

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