Grady 'Bleepin' Little New Dodger Chowd

Once there was a time when you never had to ask, "Who's the manager of the Dodgers?" Not on Dec. 6. Not on July 6. Not on any month of any day of any year.

But of course, that was your grandfather's Dodgers. And your father's Dodgers. The Dodgers who made one -- count 'em, one -- managerial change in 42 years, from 1952 (dawn of the Walter Alston era) to 1996 (end of the Tommy Lasorda era).

Those Dodgers, however, aren't these Dodgers -- the Dodgers who Tuesday named Grady Little as their fourth manager in nine years.

Not that they don't still talk like they're the Dodgers of Koufax and Snider and even Hershiser, you understand.

Lasorda himself marched up to the podium to be part of Tuesday's festivities -- and reminded the world that Little was "joining the greatest organization in baseball."

Right you are there, Tommy. There probably has never been a better time to bleed away in Dodger Blue ...

Well, except for that 59-89 record the 2005 juggernaut rolled up (or down) in its last 148 games. And the not particularly ceremonious dumping of the previous GM, Paul DePodesta, 20 months into a five-year contract. And the 65 days it took them to hire a manager, during which time they seemed to be interviewing every potential candidate but Vin Scully.

So now here it is, December already. And we've seen a team (the Toronto Made of Green Jays) spend $102 million on two pitchers this winter before the Dodgers could even figure out who was going to manage their team. Which is no way to run an offseason.

Fortunately, however, nobody needs to explain this to the new GM of this outfit, the ever-astute Ned Colletti, who seemed to exude an eminently realistic grasp of the limitations of the team he is handing over to this new manager of his.

"We probably need to find ourselves another outfielder," Colletti said. "And maybe some help at first base. And third base ... Another starting pitcher ... Lefty in the bullpen.

"Other than that," Colletti deadpanned, "I think we're pretty well set."

Insert laugh track here.

And when you're finished laughing, you might recall that those Dodgers of yesteryear were never a laugh-track kind of franchise. Not unless Lasorda was hanging around the cage, reciting the highlights of his latest chicken-dinner speech, anyway.