Let's hope Dodgers auction is pure Magic The most important spring position battle in Dodgers history may end this week with the anointing of possibly their most powerful cleanup hitter ever. Then why are we all so scared? The auction that will decide the new Dodgers owner, which begins Wednesday in Manhattan, would be the most exciting moment since Gibby turned on that slider but for two things. The winner will be chosen by Frank McCourt, a guy who once chose to buy a second mansion instead of a starting pitcher. Because the winner is chosen by McCourt, the winner could be another version of McCourt. It's impossible to predict anything about any of the three potential new ownership groups other than all have big money, all have secret plans and, so far anyway, none of them have hired Vladimir Shpunt. It's truly frightening. We don't know how they will spend. We don't know if they will spend. We don't know if their priority is baseball, or real estate, or television or, who knows, maybe one of them will follow in the clack-clack steps of one of the deposed owners and use their new position as an excuse to swim every day and then plot a bid for president. We know hardly anything important about any of them, but they should know one very important thing about us. They should know that Dodgers fans are not a bunch of poor saps on a deserted beach standing around an "SOS" rock formation and waiting desperately for the first ship to save them. They should know that Dodgers fans are, instead, huddled and hidden in a clump of trees in the middle of the island, defiant, distrustful and willing to remain out of sight until somebody shows up with enough smarts and savvy and charm to coax them back home. A billion dollars will buy the new owners no love or respect or even 30,000 folks on a school night in September. A billion dollars will only buy them a billion questions from the toughest crowd they've ever faced. Those hundreds of thousands of Dodgers fans who abandoned Chavez Ravine will return only if they are given more than simple answers. They will need action, they will need explanation, they will need a group that can proactively reestablish the bonds of this city's most enduring yet most abused connection with a sports franchise. They need, well, Magic. As the auctioneer lifts his gavel this week, based on our current information, I am turning blue cheering for the group funded by Chicago-based Guggenheim Partners and fronted by civic institution Magic Johnson and baseball whiz Stan Kasten. This is the only group that can show up for that introductory news conference with the credibility to pull this off. This is the only group that, at least in its statements so far, really seems to understand and covet the importance of the very personal relationship between the Dodgers and Los Angeles. Johnson, whose business acumen equals his former court sense, interviewed many potential ownership groups before joining this one. He does not back losers. Kasten, who built the perennially contending Atlanta Braves from scratch, and helped shape the surging Washington Nationals, also does not back losers. We know little about the Guggenheim folks, who will fund their majority contribution from out-of-state insurance companies, but we know that Johnson and Kasten would not be associated with them if their priority weren't baseball and they weren't serious about winning. There are things about the other two groups that just don't pass the smell test and, believe me, Dodgers fans can now sniff trouble from three levels up. The favorite is a group led by Steven Cohen, a hedge-fund billionaire from Connecticut who reportedly has the most liquid cash. Great, another East Coast guy flying in here trying to tell Los Angeles how much he loves our team. His partner is Patrick Soon-Shiong, everybody's favorite local biotech billionaire, but Soon-Shiong will apparently be taking a minority position that will make him irrelevant in daily matters. If Cohen wins, the Dodgers will be owned by an outsider who, by the way, has four current or former employees who have been accused of insider trading. Although Cohen was cleared in baseball's background check and neither he nor his company has been charged or indicted, he will still be bringing in the sort of litigious background baggage that McCourt eventually littered all over our front lawn. The other candidate is a man nicknamed "Silent Stan," which doesn't bode well for the new owner's need for transparency. His name is Stan Kroenke, and he holds sport's triple crown for mediocrity by owning the St. Louis Rams, Denver Nuggets and Colorado Avalanche. He Iives in Columbia, Mo., and seems to have a role model in buddy Phil Anschutz, whose shrugging ownership of the Kings has been a blight on this city for years. Some think the best thing about Kroenke is that he is holding the city of St. Louis hostage by quietly threatening to move the Rams out of town in a couple of years if the city doesn't make him richer. The thinking is that he is buying the Dodgers with hopes of one day pairing them with a return here of those Rams. Is that what we really want? A guy for whom the city is a tool and the Dodgers are a pawn? Interestingly enough, no matter who has the highest bid, McCourt will end up rich enough to have the ability to choose his winner from these three finalists. Even after all the damage he has inflicted on this city, McCourt has a chance to shape his departure and perhaps even rewrite a bit of history by choosing his final legacy. Yeah, scary.