#nancy bea

[ladodgersgirl]

#FreeNancyBea

Amid the hubbub of Opening Day on Monday, an article by Stacie Wheeler at Lasorda’s Lair caught my attention. Wheeler spoke out about the cutting back of the sweet, sweet melodies performed by our beloved Nancy Bea Hefley.

I’m not gonna lie, I was a little shocked when I read the article and went on a search spree to see if it was true. Sadly, most other articles reported the same thing (news…

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[dodgerslego]

Nancy Bea is ready for the season.

[dodgerslego]

During quiet moments at Dodger Stadium, Nancy Bea likes to cut loose.

[newgrassonthefield-blog]

A history of Dodgers organists

On the occasion of Nancy Bea Hefley's birthday, I thought it might be fun to look back at the Dodgers' organ players throughout the years. Nancy Bea is about to enter her 27th season playing organ for the Dodgers, but who preceded her?

Gladys Gooding was the first full-time organist for the Dodgers and in Major League Baseball, playing at Ebbets Field from 1942 through 1957 (the last season before the team moved to Los Angeles). She had previously been the organ player at Madison Square Garden for the Rangers and the Knickerbockers. [x] She passed away in 1963 at age 70. [x]

There was no organ at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, so from 1958 through 1961, the Dodgers went without organ music. ("Cronin's Corner," L.A. Times, April 14, 1958)

Bob Mitchell was the Dodger Stadium organist when the park opened in 1962, and continued to play the organ there through the 1966 season. He came back to Chavez Ravine on a few occasions to play "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" during the Seventh-Inning Stretch, including July 11, 2008 (note: if you click that link, please ignore the content of the video after Mr. Mitchell has finished playing). He passed away the following year at the age of 96. [x]

As far as I can find, the Dodgers did not employ an organist from 1967 through 1971.

Helen Dell played the organ at Dodger Stadium for 15 seasons, from 1972 to 1987. She was a Dodger fan prior to getting the job, according to Dodger team historian Mark Langill. [x]

[fuckyeahmattkemp]

[curlys-gold]

Happy Birthday Nancy Bea!

You're a TRUE BLUE gal!

[patricklovesla-blog]

A tribute to 1991

If it weren’t for Nancy Bea, I would neglect the fact that my life as of current is consumed by malnutrition and rejection. Rejection comes in the form of ideas getting murdered with hours left on a deadline. Malnutrition is obvious for obvious reasons except when the obvious is camouflaged by weekend brain dissecting and the only real reason to enjoy summer. (Please reference figure Double D or contact the photo department for further examples). So without further exploiting my consciousness and running in circles trying to write something stupid, here it goes.

I invite you to enter the world of the unknown. Set your minds and sights to article X. Temperature reading 78 degrees, functionality, four percent, estimated speed, seven miles per hour. Our last conclusion resulted in an attack of overgrown misfortunes or what can later be described as a well thought-out backfire. The lights are set to lust and the lace trail replays the moment the audience waited for while sitting anxiously on the edge of their underpants. “The fact is, we have been invaded by a mutant species of the African Killer Bee.” Or if I were rapping at the corner barbershop, “the opinions expressed in the following message are those of the shell petroleum company and in no way misrepresent the business interest of the corporate media in which they originally appeared.” These were once bedtime stories told to me from the people who brought you the cleaning manifesto and sugar tits at 3 lines a minute.

I conclude the above mentioned with the following question. If I were to go out on a limb here, and believe me this is strictly hypothetical, what would you consider to be the most famous question in the world? Is it A: to be or not to be equals mc2? Or is it B: what is the Internet and what does it smell like?

[buckshotboogaloo-blog]

Managing the General: Silence is Golden

A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week.

George S. Patton

Every baseball crowd, like every theatre audience, has its own distinctive attitude and atmosphere.

Bill Veeck

I am a big fan of the idea of the Life Soundtrack. The idea of the Life Soundtrack came to me the first time I borrowed one of my friend's Ipods. I was skeptical. We were on a bachelor party. It may have been mine, the timing is a little blurry. I know we were up near San Simeon. We were on the beach, playing beach baseball. We would leave our gloves on the field like old-timey baseball players. We would dodge seagulls and stub our toes on rocks in the outfield. If the ball made it to the ocean, it was a home run.

My friend with the Ipod was opting out. He was listening on the rocks. His head was down. He was staring at little fish in tidepools. Sea urchins pulsated, starfish stuck, seagull fecal matter dried. The world was his proverbial oyster. Song after song. Hundreds. Maybe even thousands. The thousands would come eventually. He didn't need us. He didn't need our sandball. All he needed was a little Neil Young in his ear and a can of beer in his hand.

I'm wandering from my original point, which wasn't much of a point at all. Life doesn't need a soundtrack, and neither does baseball. Though I love the delightful warble of Nancy Bea, my senses don't need to be overblown. I was going to suggest baseball orchestrate a GameTrack (a situational soundtrack that would be cued when certain things happen at certain points). But maybe what we need is a little more of nothing. What if a team were to have Silence Day? Just nothing but eerie silence. No sound. No walk up music. No collective rain stick clap. No calls for Charge! "Don't Sop Believin'" would be a distant, hazy nightmare... "Did that happen?" we would ask. "Was that really a thing we did?"

What if, just for fun, a team did nothing for a change? It would be inspiring.