This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage. Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.
The most obvious choices for No. 97: = Joey Bosa, Los Angeles Chargers = Jeremy Roenick, Los Angeles Kings = Joe Beimel, Los Angeles Dodgers
The most interesting story for No. 97: Joe Beimel, Los Angeles Dodgers relief pitcher (2006 to 2008) Southern California map pinpoints: Los Angeles (Dodger Stadium bullpen), Torrance
What a relief it was in 2008 — Joe Beimel bamboozled the burgeoning business of baseball bobbleheads.
Something of a left-over in a world of left-handed middle relievers, but one who the Los Angeles Dodgers kept around in the previous two seasons primarily to bind up NL West rival Barry Bonds, Beimel somehow converted under-the-radar. cool surfer vibe into folk-lore status.
The result: His burgeoning following forced the team to make good on a promotional campaign promise and create a ceramic replica of him. Free (to those who bought a ticket to a particular game). And something the team’s entire fan population could appreciate and cherish.
Because that’s what the people wanted. Allegedly.
With all due respect, did everyone respect the process by which this happened and still joyfully live with its consequences?
Nod yes if you are in the affirmative.
The context
Once upon a time, a kitschy paper-mache souvenir that represented the game’s innocence in the 1960s showed up as a generic cherub face with a disturbing grin that could promote the team’s colors and uniform branding.
Then came the modern-day bobblehead, said to have made its a brazen revival after a 1999 test case when the San Francisco Giants gave away 35,000 Willie Mays figurines one day.
The Dodgers, of course, couldn’t sit there and watch a giant opportunity pass them by.
By 2001, the Dodgers ramped up their first offerings as fan giveaways — Tommy Lasorda, Kirk Gibson and Fernando Valenzuela were the first three created. (Dodgers broadcaster Vin Scully said he though the Gibson bobblehead looked more like actor Stacy Keach — hey, they were still working on how to produce these things as close to the person it was named for).
The team kept bobbleheads at a steady flow, aboutt three per season for awhile. It expanded to four in 2007 — and fans were allowed to pick one through an Internet vote. Catcher Russell Martin was the first “winner.”
Then all spring-loaded coils broke loose in the greatness of ’08.
In spring training, the team announced plans for bobblehead nights recognizing incoming manager Joe Torre and All-Star pitcher Takashi Saito. Again, there was a spot (or two) up for grabs. The people would pick their poison.
The likely candidates: Matt Kemp or Andre Ethier. Nomar Garciaparra or Andruw Jones. Clayton Kershaw was just a 20-year-old unproven rookie. His time would come. Manny Ramirez wouldn’t barge in until months later.
In Beimel, there was a 6-foot-3, scruffy long-haired guy from Pennsylvania who came into town a couple years earlier with baggy pants to go with a baggy uniform. He also wore No. 97. At the time, it was the highest number ever used by a Dodger going back to the 1930s (passed by when Ramirez arrived in July of ’08 and took No. 99). Beimel said 97 represented the birth year of his son Drew, his first child.
This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage. Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.
The most obvious choices for No. 3:
= Carson Palmer: USC football = Keyshawn Johnson: USC football = Willie Davis: Los Angeles Dodgers = Anthony Davis: Los Angeles Lakers = Candace Parker: Los Angeles Sparks = Chris Paul: Los Angeles Clippers
The not-so-obvious choices for No. 3:
= Josh Rosen: UCLA football = Glenn Burke: Los Angeles Dodgers = Steve Sax: Los Angeles Dodgers
The most interesting story for No. 3: Scott Weiland: Edison High of Huntington Beach football quarterback (1982 to 1985) Southern California map pinpoints: Huntington Beach, Costa Mesa, Long Beach, Hollywood
The photo documents perhaps the only tangle circulated evidence that Scott Weiland played football — an aspiring quarterback trying to make his mark at Edison High School in Huntington Beach.
He kind of looked like a young Sean Salisbury — ready, willing and able to commandeer a team to success and fame. The hairstyle of the moment was helmet friendly.
Yet, the eventual lead voice and flamboyantly driving force in and out of Stone Temple Pilots, Velvet Revolver and Art of Anarchy, fired or otherwise bored with each venture, wouldn’t be on track to become the famous college football player as he once thought he’d like to be.
High school non-confidential: The teen years focused on self discovery, watching, listening, hatching experiments, hormones raging, expectations and lack of sleep leads to falling into groups of new fast friends and/or swallowed up by cliche cliques.
At a peak of his music fame in 2007, Weiland was asked in fan Q&A about his high school activities.
“What kind of self-respecting outcast were you?” he was asked.
He explained:
“One with a lot of cojones. I was never a jock, but I was an athlete, and I was good. (Edison High) had just won multiple state football titles; it was a hardcore football school. I had aspirations of going to Notre Dame, so I played quarterback. But also I was into music: I sang in the school choir; and the two worlds didn’t really hold hands skipping down the hallways. I got a lot of flak from the coach and the guys on the team. Then I formed a rock & roll band with my best friend, and at the start of the senior year, I decided that I was into music more.”
While there is the one football photo, there thousands more snapshots, videos and websites that celebrate Weiland’s legendary music work — nominated for six Grammys, winning two for Best Hard Rock Performance, selling 50 millions records and called a “voice of our generation” by Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corrigan.
Audiences and fans were captivated by a chaotic stage presence. He was a champion chameleon, amplified by a megaphone. All in all, he navigated the diversity of glam, and alt rock, and pop, and hair-metal ballads far better than he did toxic mix of drugs, alcohol and all else the came to consume him.
So when he died in 2015 of a drug overdose at the age 48, the question had to be asked: How will he be remembered?
We are left with shards of facts and quotes and guesses. And photos. Many provided by him.
This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage. Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.
The most obvious choices for No. 36: = Bo Belinsky: Los Angeles Angels = Don Newcombe: Los Angeles Dodgers = Jered Weaver: Long Beach State and Los Angeles Angels = Jeff Weaver: Los Angeles Dodgers and Los Angels Angels = Steve Bilko: Los Angeles Dodgers
The not-so-obvious choices for No. 36: = Frank Robinson: Los Angeles Dodgers = Jerome Bettis: Los Angeles Rams = Fernando Valenzuela: California Angels = Greg Maddux: Los Angeles Dodgers
The most interesting story for No. 36: Roy Gleason: Los Angeles Dodgers outfielder (1963) Southern California map pinpoints: Garden Grove, Los Angeles (Dodger Stadium)
Roy Gleason looks at a replacement of the 1963 World Champion ring he was given by the Los Angeles Dodgers during a ceremony at Dodger Stadium, with manager Jim Tracy, before a game on Sept. 20, 2003. Gleason’s career was cut short by the Vietnam War, where Gleason received a Purple Heart and other decorations but never returned to baseball. The original ring was lost in Vietnam. (Photo by Stephen Dunn/Getty Images)
Roy Gleason made into eight games with the Los Angeles Dodgers during a September, 1963 callup, but the first seven were just for pinch-running duties. His one at bat, an eighth-inning stand-up double against Philadelphia against left-hander Dennis Bennett at Dodger Stadium, is documented in a box score. The 20-year-old hit a low inside fastball down the left field line.
That was it for the 6-foot-4, switch hitting Garden Grove High product who signed a $55,000 bonus baby contract in 1961. He had turned down a contract with the Boston Red Sox even after Ted Williams personally recruited him. But the Dodgers were concerned he was too much into the L.A. nightlife and wasn’t dedicated enough at that point.
The team was preparing for another trip to the World Series, eventually sweeping the New York Yankees in four straight. Gleason would be given a ’63 World Series ring for his contribution.
But he’d never play in the big league again. Especially after a trip to Vietnam.
He may have been a Dodger. But he wasn’t a draft dodger, even if it made no sense to him why the Army would come looking for him in 1967.
This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage. Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.
The most obvious choices for No. 6: = Steve Garvey: Los Angeles Dodgers = Mark Sanchez: USC football, Mission Viejo High football = Eddie Jones: Los Angeles Lakers = Bronny James: USC basketball = Carl Furrillo: Los Angeles Dodgers = Sue Enquist: UCLA softball = Joe Torre: Los Angeles Dodgers manager
The not-so-obvious choices for No. 6: = Marc Wilson: Los Angeles Raiders = Anthony Rendon: Los Angeles Angels = Ron Fairly: Los Angeles Dodgers/California Angels via USC = Adam Morrison: Los Angeles Lakers
The most interesting story for No. 6: Steve Garvey: Los Angeles Dodgers third baseman/first baseman (1969 to 1982) Southern California map pinpoints: Los Angeles (Dodger Stadium); Palm Springs
Steve Garvey’ offered a modest proposal in the fall of 2023. It had nothing to do with him pitching another reverse mortgage plan, some hair restoration, weight-loss supplements or switching to a brand of particular dog food.
At the website for his U.S. Seanate run campaign, a popup asked California voters if they were willing to “give $6 for #6.” It would happen all very painlessly through something called efund.
Ah, the joy of six.
“Our campaign is focused on quality-of-life issues, public safety, and education. As a U.S. Senator, I will serve with commonsense, compassion, and will work to build consensus to benefit all of the people of California,” the script said quoting one of the Los Angeles Dodgers’ most popular and productive players in the 1970s and ’80s.
The CEO of Team Garvey said he needed a lot support as a Republican in a very Democratic state for the March 5, 2024 primaries.
None of this really came out of the blue.
During his baseball career, he had been planting seeds about his next career in some type of high-profile public office. For those who made a connection to the red No. 6 on the front of his Dodgers’ jersey — which he also carried onto a few more seasons in San Diego — the nostalgia was thick and the opportunity ripe as a controversial Republican president was somehow circling back to the pulpit and gaining momentum on a campaign of anti-blue sentiment.
The twist in all this — the California primaries reward the top two vote-getters regardless of party moved onto the Nov. 5 general election. In this wrestling match to finally get the seat once held by Diane Feinstein, Democratic candidate Adam Schiff was an early favorite but he created a campaign strategy targeting Garvey as his main competitor — inciting more Republican support for Garvey — because Democrat Katie Porter provided a far-more serious threat to Schiff.
As a result, Schiff manipulated it so he and Garvey finished 1-2 in the primaries with nearly the same number of votes.
Now there were eight months left of campaigning for a spot that really wasn’t that close.
Back in February of 2024, a Los Angeles Times story tried to layout the contradictory “family values” life Garvey has led coming to this point — including a disassociation with one of his daughters and his grandson. He has seven children. Not all keep in touch.
“Dozens of ex-athletes have attempted to transition into politics, some of them driven by noble aims. But what sets Garvey’s Senate run apart from all the others is that I’m not sure what it is about at all. In fact, it seems entirely devoid of a purpose beyond the name of the candidate himself.
“It’s not just that Garvey is running as a Republican in a deep-blue state in perhaps the most polarized era in modern American history; it’s that he doesn’t even seem to be trying. He speaks in aphorisms that mean absolutely nothing; he won’t even express a definitive opinion about the standard-bearer of his own party. It’s as if he’s running just to say he ran, because this is what he always appeared destined to do when he was younger. It’s as if he’s trying to fill out the gaps in his own story.
“There’s something kind of sad about this. But it also feels like a telling metaphor for modern American politics at a moment when celebrity has outweighed substance. Best as I can tell, Steve Garvey is running for office because of his own hollow conception of fame. …
“For a while, it appeared Garvey stood above it all, and then his own hypocrisy rendered him a punchline. Maybe it’s cynicism; maybe it’s naivete. But either way, it’s as if he’s trying one last time to will into truth his own hollow fiction.”
At the website Sons of Steve Garvey, billed as “random rantings and ravings about the Los Angeles Dodgers, written by a small consortium of rabid Dodger fans,” there was never a Garvey endorsement of his political aspiration.
We had a flashback to 1998 when we caught up with Garvey at a North Hollywood baseball card shop named Porky’s. At the time, Jessie “The Body” Ventura had just won the governorship Minnesota. Garvey told us that Barbara Boxer, who had just been re-elected California state senior, “could have been had” if another Republican — like him? — had stepped up to get that spot.
Even then, he said he had his eye on Feinstein, whose six-year term was coming up in 2000. But he knew he wasn’t getting any younger.
“You know, I’m going to be 50- in December,” he told me than (and he just had a two-week old daughter born).
A bumper sticker one can obtain with a donation to the Garvey campaign.
So now, in 2024, the 75-year-old Garv thought he could change the narrative of a “man of the people” journey.
A baseball card created for Garvey’s senate campaign issued to contributors.
Mailers to constituents tried to make his case through a mock up of a baseball card. Another mailer tried to make sure that even if he has supported Donald Trump in previous presidential elections, he would like to be thought of more as someone aligned with former president Ronald Reagan — sending out a 1984 photo of the two once together in San Diego.
Garvey tried to use a new-age baseball stat — Wins Above Replacement — as a way to show how Schiff’s shortcomings could be best measured.
The back side of the campaign card.
“He just doesn’t need to be replaced. He needs to be defeated,” Garvey wrote.
Even though a story in The Nation projected that Garvey could not be underestimated, it all played out as suspected. Photo ops on Skid Row in L.A. and a trip to Israel in the middle of a war to try to see for himself what was going on weren’t effective.
The fact remains that, by early November, Schiff easily send Garvey to the showers with a 59-41 percent victory that was called by an Associated Press projection about one minute after the California voting precincts closed.
Garvey (who goes with the social media handle of @SteveGarvey6) used even more twisted numerical logic in his November election-night remarks in Rancho Mirage, which occurred just days after the Dodgers’ 2024 World Series triumph, to make it appear he achieved something (by fact that California is the most populated state and likewise produces the most voters):
In baseball, like in many professional sports, there’s a tradition of members of the opposing team to congratulate the winners. Often times with a handshake on the field or even a visit to the opponent’s clubhouse. In that same spirit I congratulate Congressman Adam Schiff on his victory. Using their enormous power the voters have elected him the next U.S. Senator from California. And I respect that and wish him good choices for all of the people in the years to come. I want you to know that despite the outcome that when the counting is over we will have gotten the fourth-most number of votes in the country. This means that everyone in California does have a voice. And it will only grow louder and louder. ….
I fell in love with California since my first day when I arrived on September 1,1969, when I was a rookie with the Los Angeles Dodgers. And want it to once again be the heartbeat of America. And I want the American Dream to live on and thrive. Because as the great Ronald Reagan once said — “As long as that dream lives, as long as we continue to defend it, America has a future, and all mankind has reason to hope.” Thank you again. God bless you and God Bless America.
This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage. Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.
The most obvious choices for No. 60: = Hardiman Cureton: UCLA football = Clay Matthews Jr.: USC football = Dennis Harrah: Los Angeles Rams
The not-so-obvious choices for No. 60: = Chin-Lung Hu: Los Angeles Dodgers = Andrew Toles: Los Angeles Dodgers
The most interesting story for No. 60: Andrew Toles: Los Angeles Dodgers outfielder (2016 to 2018) Southern California map pinpoints: Dodger Stadium
Years after his last MLB game, without much hope that he’ll ever play again, Andrew Toles remains more than just in the Dodgers’ hearts and minds. He has what appears to be a contract that keeps him connected with them.
Every year since 2019, the Dodgers, without much attention, let it be known they have retained the outfielder and lead-off hitter as a contracted employee. Without pay. On the restricted list. It was reported that renewed that deal again in March, 2024.
The media makes it appear this happens to guarantee Toles’ health insurance as he continues to deal with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. There’s more to it. It’s there as well to give Toles comfort in that, should he find a way to live with this condition, he will have the psychological approach to this that the team has kept him close to its heart, and he’s still in the process of making a comeback.
If the team doesn’t renew the agreement, there is fear Toles may discover as much go back down a dark hole.
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