Talking Story with Arlo: baseball game

Talking Story with Arlo

A Dream, Weekend in Dodger Blue:

From Grandma’s Transistor Radio to the Owner’s Suite

By Arlo Agogo

Some childhood memories wrap around your heart like a favorite blanket. For me, those memories are soaked in Dodger blue, the crackle of a transistor radio, and the gentle voice of my grandma.

Months ago, I wrote a blog post about those precious afternoons and evenings. As a 5 year old boy, it was my special job to make sure Grandma had her little transistor radio right next to her pillow.

We’d sip tea together, chatting about everything and nothing while Vin Scully’s golden voice called the game. “It’s time for Dodger baseball,” he’d say, and the world felt right.

Being a Dodger fan with Grandma wasn’t just about the scores. It was about love, routine, and connection. She grew up in London, far from the sun-soaked fields of Chavez Ravine, yet she adored the team.

I’d fetch the newspaper each morning to check the game times, and me mum had given me the lifetime task of keeping that radio in perfect shape—fresh batteries, good signal, ready for every pitch.

On days Grandma felt tired and drifted off, I’d tiptoe back later to tuck the radio safely on her bedside stand, ready for tomorrow.

Those quiet moments shaped me into a lifelong Dodger fan. The blog captured that heartwarming bond, and somehow, it found its way to the right people.

To my absolute astonishment, the entire Dodgers ownership group—including Chairman Mark Walter—read it.

They sent me a personal note inviting me to watch a Saturday night game from the owner’s suite. They connected me with their publicist, and just like that, everything was arranged: special tickets, VIP parking, a luxurious hotel suite, and first-class treatment all the way.

Chairman Mark Walter asked if he could read the blog post to the team.

It felt like a fairy tale for a desert kid who once guarded a transistor radio. Now, who do you take on an adventure like this?

For me, there was only one choice: Doris Day.

My desert darling of daredevil deeds. Not the movie star (though the name always brings a smile), but my British friend, a retired banker with a heavy English accent and a spirit as wild as the Mojave.

We both own bright yellow 1968 Volkswagen dune buggies and often tear across the desert on spontaneous escapades. She’s a bucket of fun, quick with a laugh and faster on the gas pedal than I am.

I rang her up: “Doris, love, fancy an excursion to Los Angeles for a Dodgers game?

We’ve got tickets to the owner’s suite, a fancy hotel—everything covered.” Without missing a beat, she replied, “Let’s roll!”

We could have flown from Vegas, but dodging airport lines sounded miserable. Instead, we opted for a proper road trip. She offered her rugged Land Rover, and off we went on a lovely morning drive from the desert into the sprawl of LA.

The Dodgers treated us like royalty from the start.

Our hotel suite was the nicest I’ve ever seen—spacious, elegant, with views that made us feel like we’d stepped into another world.

Doris, usually happiest kicking up dust in the desert, looked at me after a bit of cruising around town and said with wide eyes, “What the heck? Are we on another planet?”

I laughed and replied, “Let’s head to the stadium and get to the good stuff. ”We arrived early, pulling into VIP parking off Vin Scully Avenue. The name alone gave me chills. Security stopped us a couple of times, but our special passes turned every interaction into friendly waves and offers of iced tea or golf cart rides.

We strolled the ballpark grounds, soaking in the electric pre-game atmosphere—the smells of grilled hot dogs, the buzz of fans in blue jerseys, the towering palm trees framing the field.

Heading up to the owner’s suite felt surreal.

Along the way, we spotted celebrities: Magic Johnson, Corey Seager (wait, Bellinger in my memory, but the stars kept coming), and Orel Hershiser.

The entire ownership group was there—Mark Walter and the big wigs—warm and welcoming.

They asked me to share more about the blog. I told them about fetching the paper, checking game times, ensuring Grandma’s radio was battery-ready, and how Vin Scully’s famous line would fill her room.

I described sitting beside her on the bed as she lay there, older but still mobile enough to chat about her London childhood or who was pitching that night.

“Those days cherishing her stories while the game played on—they’re treasures I’ll carry forever,” I said.The room grew quiet. The owners were visibly moved by the image of a young boy caring for his grandma, making sure she never missed a pitch.

It was an honor to share that piece of my heart with the people who now steward the team I love.

Introducing Doris was a highlight. Her unique name—pure coincidence, as her English parents had no idea about the famous actress—drew smiles everywhere. She charmed everyone with her heavy accent and lively personality, quickly becoming the toast of the suite.

Her "London English" that she loves to add a little bit of differently pronounced words just to make people wonder "What". Shohei Ohtani asked in Japanese what language she was speaking.

Then came the game itself, watched in absolute luxury. The spread was incredible: lobster tacos, Wagyu beef hot dogs, fresh guacamole, chips, and more. We even enjoyed a cold Guinness to wash it all down.

The view from the suite was perfect—the green field glowing under the lights, the crowd roaring with every hit. It was Dodgers baseball at its finest on a Saturday night.

After the final out, the magic continued. We joined ownership down to the club-level area where the team gathered before flying out. We walked around and met the players: Shohei Ohtani, Freddie Freeman, Mookie Betts, and the rest of the squad. Shaking hands with these legends as a lifelong fan?

Pure pinch-me moments.

Doris, with her British wit and warmth, fit right in—everyone loved chatting with her. What a night. From humble desert roots and Grandma’s bedside radio to rubbing shoulders with Dodgers royalty—it was a full-circle dream.

The game, the food, the stories, the stars… everything blended into one unforgettable experience.

Then came the highlight of this simple storytellers life.

Chairman Mark Walter stood up to the podium with a microphone where management makes announcements to the team on travel schedules and a few comments on today's game

He starts "attention please I have a story to read you".

(To read this blog CLICK HERE)

It is titled " Me, Mum & Vin Scully"

Mr Walter read my blog to all the team , management and many press correspondents.

He read it slowly with pride and conviction.

When he was finished he pointed me as the author.

I got a standing ovation and never smiled so big.

WOW.

The next morning, we rose early, said goodbye to the big-city lights, and hit the road back to our peaceful desert lifes.

Doris dropped me off with a goodbye kiss that lingered large and drove off waving with that trademark grin.

Life has a funny way of rewarding the simple things—like tea, transistors, and unconditional love between a boy and his grandma.

Thanks to the Dodgers organization for turning a heartfelt blog into a lifetime memory.