In this issue, I had to write one of the hardest stories I’ve ever tackled as a reporter.
No, it wasn’t some investigative piece that required painstaking research.
No, it didn’t involve exposing corruption in the community.
For me, it was much worse.
I went out to the opening ceremonies at Mountain Ridge Little League and was making my way through the vendor booths when I saw a kid selling handmade jewelry holders with a home plate base.
He had a pretty great story behind it. He and his dad built the jewelry holders together. When I found out he lived in Skye Canyon, it was pretty much a no-brainer that I would feature him in the next issue.
The problem was, the kid was wearing a Dodgers uniform.
If you know me, you know I have a truly unhealthy hatred for the Los Angeles Dodgers.
It goes back to my childhood growing up in a small town along the California border. I’d say about 90 percent of the people I grew up around were Dodgers fans.
My mom and brother were both big Dodgers fans. I’ve always been a bit of a contrarian, so there was no way I was following that crowd.
I grew up without really having a favorite team, but I definitely had one I hated with a passion.
When I went to college in San Diego, I became a Padres fan. I even worked at the stadium selling souvenirs during the summers.
With the exception of a couple of years, Dodgers fans mostly ignored the Padres. But in recent years, the Padres have been able to offer at least some challenge—about as much as they can with the payroll discrepancy between the two teams.
A couple of issues ago, I wrote about a kid who started his own dirty soda company. When I took his picture, I made him take off his Dodgers hat.
But Carlos Guerrero was in full uniform, so that wasn’t an option. I swallowed my pride, decided to be the better person, and chose not to hold it against him that he plays for the enemy.
There was one silver lining, though: his parents are both Padres fans.
— Kirk Kern