Frank McCourt is so goddamn COOL.
Think about it. He swooped in out of nowhere, tossed a wink at Bud Selig and a few pennies at Rupert Murdoch, and walked away with one of the greatest sports franchises of all time.
Then, with team in hand, he proceeded to make himself the undisputed KING OF L.A. Lavish houses, cars, boats, marathons...whatever he wanted was his in an instant. Did he take team money to pay for it? HELL YES. He was the owner! It was HIS MONEY. We wish we had that kind of stroke.
He was a mastermind when it came to baseball operations too. When he finally settled on Ned Colletti as GM, he had found the perfect straw man to take the fall for all the poor team decisions. Frank could just sit back and not give 100% of a damn.
Last year, when dim bulb Bud Selig FINALLY came to the realization that he'd been bamboozled, it was already too late. The master plan was already complete. In one swift move, he jettisoned the gold-digging wife, dumped the team he never really wanted, and conned the so-called "Magic" Johnson into handing him a cool BILLION dollars in straight-up profit. That, my friends, is the American Dream.
Frank, I salute you, you magnificent pimp. You are an inspiration to all of that believe hard work is for suckers. L.A. will never, ever have another star that burns as bright as you. I know you won't be making anymore money off the parking lots after May 1st. That just means I have all of April to buy preferred parking to honor your legacy.