It's so disheartening to think of what the Dodgers used to be, how little is left of them, and how much so many of the super-rich are willing to spend on it. Now, even the name on the stadium is probably going to disappear.
When you think of the Dodgers, you think of a well-run organization that is perennially competitive. You think of a gleaming cathedral/stadium filled with safe, happy, cheering fans, and set in a beautiful urban enclave. A smart owner who cares about every aspect of success. An organization that engenders loyalty and is the envy of the rest of MLB. Great players who take pride in being part of a great legacy. A farm system that is the model others try to emulate. A trail-blazing academy to discover and refine raw talent in the most remote locales. Proactive programs and investment in spreading the happiness of baseball around the world. A far-away spring training complex that seems like Shangri-La. A private aircraft that carries the team's goodwill to admirers and destinations far and wide. Broadcasts booming out over a clear channel beacon that you can pick up anywhere in the Western USA.
All of that is gone. The team is bankrupt, its people cloistered in retreat behind the stadium walls. The organization itself is comprised of outsiders with no connection to the legacy. The stadium is dangerous, decrepit, and surrounded by crumbling, dark, broken-glass covered asphalt controlled by the Number 1 villain in all of this. Soon, the name on the stadium will belong to somebody else.
There is so little left to save that rebuilding seems impossible. The strangers that want to sink billions into this empty, haunted shell can only be sharks or fools.