It's the off-season, the time of year when teams can look at their lineups and address some of the gap areas. And we're going through this sort of exercise at the SoSG home offices as well.
When this blog started back in 2006, it was largely supposed to be a repository for a small group of guys who ended up emailing incessantly about the Dodgers anyway. Many of the original Sons had known each other since grade school, so it was easy to port our sarcastic brand of commenting and "reporting" into a medium that was ripe for witty banter.
Establishing a set of pseudonyms also helped keep the tone off-the-cuff, as well as allowed many of us to contribute content from all over the place (including blogging from work). In fact, there are a couple of Sons who work with colleagues who are huge readers of Sons of Steve Garvey, and they have no idea that the authors are standing in their midst. The veil of secrecy was a pretty critical point in our early days.
Soon, the Dodgers organization started inviting us into the fold, culminating with press box and clubhouse access as if we were media members. Of course, this required us to think about things a bit differently; the covenant we reached with the recently-departed VP of PR Josh Rawitch was that he was fine with the pseudonyms so long as he could always reach us individually if we wrote something out of line. We never did, by the way; Rawitch was always a great partner and helped give on- and off-the-record color to us all the time.
Meanwhile, about the same time, we started inviting some of our readers back behind the veil as well, including holding a couple of SoSG Fests (read: fully funded drinking while watching a Dodgers away game) for some of the most worthy. Through these events, and some Stadium rendezvous missions, we got to know a handful of our readers pretty well.
In addition, the ranks of the Sons have thinned. You, the readers, voted to kill off Pedro Guerrero last year. And as we emerged from this year's Hey Jimbo! April Fool's Day takeover, Lasorda was left off the 2011 roster. Finally, Eric Karros decided to call it a day following the end of the 2011 season. And that left four Sons o hold down the fort.
Meanwhile, let's face it, it's been a hard time to be a Dodger fan, what with two consecutive poor showings in the division, an opening day beating tragedy, and that whole McCourt ownership circus thing that casts a pall over the organization. It's yucchy. But the chaos might not have to be all-corroding; I believe that chaos is the time for the most opportunity, just as this is a time for the Dodgers to rise from the ashes like a phoenix. 2012 has to be better, right? And I don't want Sons of Steve Garvey to miss a second of it.
And that's why, for the first time in this blog's five-year history, we're ecstatic to welcome three new Sons to the fold. Please give a huge welcome to Dusty Baker, Hideo Nomo, and Franklin Stubbs.
All three of these new Sons have been around for years, they're familiar with the virtual bar we've created, and we've had a chance to meet them all on multiple occasions (all three attended both SoSG Fests as well as multiple ad hoc drink-fests in the Stadium). In fact, they're kind of like family now. Which is why we're ecstatic to knight them as Sons.
We're delighted that they're just insane enough to want to join the chaos on a first-hand level. But we're confident that their energy will help take this crazy crew of sarcastic Sons to the next level, just in time to herald the Dodgers' ascent back to our rightful place in championship lore (or at least, in time to welcome our new owner and a long-awaited change in front-office scenery). Plus, the new Sons' background checks came out relatively clean (only one bestiality incident that has since been expunged).
I'll leave their individual origin stories up to them, but you'll soon see their names in the Sons' blogroll in the upper left. (Congratulations to those of you who figured out our mystery last week, by the way. You damn overachievers.) So if you see any of these three anonymous identity-concealed Sons walking down the street, make sure to congratulate them with a big bear hug.