Colletti has lasted, persevered. He has gone over Niagara Falls in a barrel and walked away, marched through a jungle of snakes and never been bitten. Television has its "Survivor" show. Colletti's face ought to be the logo.
This doesn't take much explanation. Colletti was Frank McCourt's general manager. Dodgers fans expected — demanded — Oriental rugs. McCourt was willing to give them linoleum. Colletti was the man in the middle, the guy with the caulking gun and Scotch tape.
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This is his eighth season in the seat in the mezzanine-level booth with no number on the door. It is not for sale. The inside lights never go on. Light from the TV is enough.
"It's 30 feet to the back," he says, implying ample pacing room.
He always watches from here, never from down in the low seats, often the choice of other baseball officials.
"I need my space," he says. "There is room to think, room to vent."
The McCourt years weren't all that unsuccessful in the standings, just painful to get there.
Colletti showed up for the '06 season and his first trade was Milton Bradley for an Oakland A's minor leaguer named Andre Ethier. Ethier was up to the big leagues by May and has never come close to going back down. Bradley, a troubled person, has seemed to fulfill his potential by being sentenced last month to three years in prison for spousal abuse.
Colletti's teams managed to win the division three times in seven seasons. But his customers, Los Angeles fans with Los Angeles expectations, wanted more. They had champagne tastes and his budget was Miller Lite.
Now, of course, the world has turned right-side up for those fans and for Colletti. The new owners, the Guggenheim Group, overpaid McCourt for the team, overreached for the players they could obtain, and Los Angeles, always infatuated with unexplainable excess, loved it.
"I was sitting right here on a Thursday night, and about the fourth inning, it actually started to look like we were going to do this trade," Colletti says.
In about a day and a half, the paperwork was done, physicals were exchanged and passed, Beckett and Crawford had waived their no-trade clauses and it was happening. About $250 million was changing hands, and the new owners weren't even blinking.
"They were pushing to go," Colletti says. "I had my staff with me, standing there, right in the back of this booth. They looked at me, kind of stunned, and said, 'Can we really do this?'"
We flash forward to Friday night.
Same booth, same general manager, different world.
"It's good to see people so happy to come to the ballpark," Colletti says. "It's nice when they come, smiling."
The Dodgers are the toast of baseball. Once 9 1/2 games out of first place and 12 below .500, they have now gone 29-5 since the All-Star break and are in a double-digit lead for the first time since 1977. No, that's not a typo.
It is a fairy tale kind of day, right from the start. It begins with Vin Scully's official announcement that he will be back in the broadcast booth for his 65th year. That's not a typo either.
Scully, ever introspective, says he is lucky and grateful for health and all these years.
"I'm full of thanks," he says. "I'm a walking Thanksgiving dinner."
Brian Wilson also has a news conference. The once-hated Giants reliever, with the weird beard that gives him an edge as an Amish preacher in his post-baseball job hunt, says, "I play for the Dodgers, I work for the Dodgers and I'm gonna win for the Dodgers."
In San Francisco, they are jumping off bridges.
Coincidentally, the first-place Red Sox are in town, for the first time since 2002.
Manager Don Mattingly calls it a matchup of "two heavyweight champions."
The empty seats that became an epidemic during the McCourt years are all but gone. The announced crowd is 50,240, a few thousand shy of a sellout.
Hanley Ramirez hits a two-run homer, the Dodgers lead going into the top of the ninth, 2-0, and Kenley Jansen trots in from the bullpen to close for Ricky Nolasco, who had given up only two hits. Jansen gets the Eric Gagne reception from the crowd and does the Gagne job. (OK, we didn't know about the juice back then).
Score along with us. Against Jansen, Red Sox hitters go K, K, popup-6. Game over. A lightning-fast 2 hours 7 minutes. Dodgers lead the division by 10 1/2.
Tommy Lasorda calls this Dodger Blue Heaven. Suddenly, it really is again.
In the booth with no number, the lights stay out. Colletti's smile is illumination enough.