Yep, I’ve sort of been suspecting they’d be moving even before the season
began. A lot of people are going to the games this year, knowing their days in
Oakland are few. I’ll miss them, but they’ve played so badly in recent years
that maybe it’s a relief. The 49ers aren’t much better.
Linda G.
From: ourplace-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:ourplace-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On ;
Behalf Of Devon Wilkins
Sent: Thursday, September 22, 2016 8:52 AM
To: ourplace@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [ourplace] Re: Blind Dodger fan relies on Vin Scully's narration and
the roar of the crowd
Linda, I just heard this morning that the Raders are likely to move to Navada
shortly. You’ll miss them, no doubt. Devon.
From: ourplace-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:ourplace-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On ;
Behalf Of Linda Gehres
Sent: September-22-16 7:51 AM
To: ourplace@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [ourplace] Re: Blind Dodger fan relies on Vin Scully's narration and
the roar of the crowd
Wow, what a superb article!! To those of you who have followed the Dodgers and
Vin’s career over the years, I know it must be heartbreaking to know you’ll
lose him after this baseball season.
I thought about trying to go to an Oakland Raiders game this year having a
transistor with me and hearing Greg Papa, whose “touchdown Raiders” is almost
legendary in these parts. But with my medical problems just now, not sure I
could get from where Paratransit would leave me off and into the Coliseum
compound and to my seat. Also, don’t know how expensive it would be. If I
were to go, I’d want to get food too, LOL, don’t I want to get food
whereverit’s available and I’m out? Anyway, fabulous article, and what a
fabulous story for Phil!! Thanks, Pete, so much for sharing this!!
Linda G.
From: ourplace-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:ourplace-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On ;
Behalf Of Pete Romero
Sent: Wednesday, September 21, 2016 7:41 PM
To: ourplace@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [ourplace] Blind Dodger fan relies on Vin Scully's narration and the
roar of the crowd
Hi everyone. Here's an article taken from today's Los Angeles times about a
blind dodger fan. Some of you might even know him. I hope you enjoy this
article as much as I did.
Blind Dodgers fan relies on Vin Scully's narration and the roar of the crowd
Vinny, vidi, vici.
Scully saw, Scully conquered. He charmed us. He was sunny even in sad times. No
wonder he wound up here.
Thanks to Vin Scully, Phil Wojdak’s Dodgers experience is equally sunny. Blind
since 15, he attends games as much of L.A. once did, with a transistor radio in
his pocket, tuned to Scully’s adept and delightful play-by-play.
In this bittersweet last homestand, Wojdak represents yet another irreplaceable
piece of the Scully era (1950-2016), the vital connection to the team. What
Edison did for light bulbs, Scully did for baseball – harnessed its kinetic
magic.
Who else will ever grace us with such tidbits as, “Uggla is Swedish for owl”?
So, imagine what that voice means to Wojdak, who depends on Scully to narrate
the game for him, weaving stories and play-by-play.
Wojdak notes how other announcers miss pitches or become sidetracked by their
cohorts in the booth. Not Scully, who works solo yet seems to provide more
detail, ambiance and action than 10 announcers ever could.
Through the years, Wojdak has also learned to pick up little clues on his own.
“Sometimes I know it’s going to be a home run by the sound of the bat,” he says.
From the crowd reaction?
“No, from the crack of the bat … it depends on the home run and who hit it and
how hard,” he says.
Wojdak seems to get as much out of the aura of the game as anyone — the juju of
opening day, the promise of the playoffs.
“Every game is different,” he says. “It’s all in the noises the crowd makes.”
“He can hear the wave,” says his wife, Jessie.
“I can follow it around the stadium from the roar of the crowd,” he says. “I
love the wave.”
“He asks me when to stand,” Jessie says.
There are more than 50,000 stories at every Dodgers sellout, many related to
Scully. Over and over, fans will describe how they listened to the team as a
child, many having pulled the sheets up to hide the radio from Mom.
Obviously, Wojdak’s story is more amazing than most. He grew up in Temple City,
his vision giving him increasing difficulty as a teen — one eye with one
problem, another eye with another.
By 15, the world had gone dark, and so could have Wojdak. Instead, he upped his
grades, went to Claremont, then Hastings College of Law, and thrived as a
deputy district attorney, where he made a name for himself as a litigator in
the vulnerable victims unit.
In 1997, he met Jessie, a CPA. They married the next year and bought a house 10
minutes from the stadium. Jessie, who adored baseball from a very young age —
is there a better family heirloom? — insisted they take in a Dodgers game every
two weeks or so.
When Kenta Maeda joined the team this year, their allegiance grew in more
personal ways. The new pitcher became a link to a Japanese daughter-in-law
living in Tokyo with two half-Japanese grandchildren. The Wojdaks even made a
banner to hang over the rail.
“Welcome Maeda,” it said.
Ushers removed it, citing stadium policy.
“But they were very nice about it,” Jessie says.
Two weeks ago, in a flash of the kind of kismet that seems to pervade
<safari-reader://www.latimes.com/topic/sports/baseball/dodger-stadium-PLREC000142-topic.html>
Dodger Stadium these days, Wojdak stepped on another fan’s food as he bumped
his way to his seat, in Row A of the loge level.
This being Dodger Stadium, the fan with the smashed food could’ve been anyone —
a thug, a mogul, a preacher, a movie star.
In a grand piece of luck, the fan turned out to be Dr. Michael Levi, a
podiatrist who works with local teams, volunteers everywhere, even donates his
free time to clip orangutan toenails at the L.A. Zoo.
In short, Levi is a mensch of all mensches.
Levi, at the game with his daughter Rachel, quickly understood and forgave the
stomped food. Over the next several innings, he became fast friends with the
couple … heard about their Maeda connection, their love of the Dodgers, the
grandkids back in Tokyo.
When Levi, who like any 57-year-old kid brought his Rawlings glove to the game,
snagged a foul ball off a pitch thrown by Maeda, he quickly came up with a plan.
A season-ticket holder, he sent the ball to the Dodgers, and a week later
treated the Wojdaks to dinner, where he presented them with a token of his new
friendship — the ball thrown by Maeda, with the ballplayer’s autograph.
You think baseball is just another sport? You think a Dodgers game is only
about mustard and millionaires?
Sometimes. And sometimes, it’s about much more.
Thanks, Vin. Thanks, Phil. Thanks, doc.
<mailto:chris.erskine@xxxxxxxxxxx> chris.erskine@xxxxxxxxxxx
Pete, sent from my iPhone
