Beat L.A.

So I was sitting with a buddy at Chase Field enjoying the Diamondbacks-Dodgers game on Sunday. It was the bottom of 6th when the rotund family in the row ahead of us raised their homemade signs and began to chant (again): "Beat LA. Beat LA. Beat LA. Beat LA." On and on and on it went, with a discipline and fervency that would impress a Buddhist zen master. Indeed, at key moments during the ballgame, the entire stadium would erupt with "Beat LA!" chants at the urging of the digital billboards. As a lifelong Dodgers fan, I found this amusing. Given the emotion, you'd think we were in Yankee Stadium. When Dodgers fans think rival, we think Giants or Yankees. So what's up with this one-sided rivalry? Dr. Freud might say: Inferiority complex, perhaps? And that may have something to do with the fact that in Phoenix, most folks hail from somewhere else. In fact, every time I'm asked what Phoenix is like, I'm reduced to saying: Iowa with cacti. Don't get me wrong. Phoenix is a pleasant place to live (except now, in the dead of summer, when the temps rival that of Mercury). But there's oddly little sense of place here, as visitors readily point out to the defensive denizens. And LA, of course, is easy to hate. Summer temps in the mid-70s, the beaches, the hard bodies, the glam, Hollywood, the cultural and culinary arts, the diversity, the relaxed attitude ― there's a lot to be jealous of, I mean, hate. In time, Phoenix will find its rightful place. And if chanting "Beat LA" helps, then have at it.