Trying to cheer up one particular Dodger is rather dicey PHOENIX - It was the perfect start to a day, breakfast with the granddaughter twins, one of them even letting me sit next to her. The other is apparently still not buying my "I love UCLA" routine. Then it was off to Target to spoil them, one getting a Barbie and the other a talking baby. They chose the most expensive toys, so there's no doubt they're my daughter's children. Now as they stood there posing for a picture with G.P., gifts in hands, a big smile from the one who likes me and a smirk from the other, it was a feeling of complete joy. There's no way the Dodgers were going to ruin this day. Before leaving for the ballpark, I caught the HBO special on the Yankees/Diamondbacks World Series that took place a few weeks after 9/11. A young girl, whose father was captain of a plane a terrorist flew into one of the towers, wrote to Derek Jeter and wanted to meet him. She got her chance, a nice TV reminder athletes mean so much to people sometimes and do the right thing. The Yankees would lose the Series in Arizona, but they won three uplifting games in New York, twice tying the score with two outs in the ninth inning. What a feeling watching that, and it has been 11 years. It seemed like an impossible task, but the Yankees brought so much joy to those people. But shouldn't that be the mission of every sports team, bringing joy to their fans? It seems so basic, but the Dodgers have been failures. They are trying to do a better job making players available for autographs, but inside the clubhouse there's no joy. I thought I'd try to change things, going to the clubhouse with the intent of inspiring - only to be told to leave. First person I see is pitching coach Rick Honeycutt, so I ask him if he has joy in his heart. "Every day," he says, which is impressive, knowing Joe Blanton pitches every five days. I move on to the next guy. How about you, you don't look joyful. "This is my game face," he says.