I’ll begin with a confession: Twice in the past 27 years, I actually considered becoming a Dodgers fan.
The first time was as a 13-year-old in November of 1991, when Eric Davis was traded. As I touched on this in my introductory Redleg Nation column last year, I’ll let cut and paste do their jobs:
His posters adorned my bedroom walls; his baseball cards filled two separate binders; his #44 graced the jerseys of every sport I played (or at least the ones where I could choose my number). Now, he was gone… I found myself torn — I wanted Davis to succeed in Los Angeles, but I was never able to become comfortable with the idea of rooting for another team, especially one in the Reds’ own division.