FanHouse FrankMccourt

Mark Cuban is back on Bud Selig's doorstep with a sack full of money. This time he's got his eyes on the Los Angeles Dodgers.

As the divorce drama of Dodgers owner Frank McCourt and his wife (and, depending on the courts, co-owner) Jamie plays out in Los Angeles, speculation has started that the team may hit the market. That's what happened with the Padres, you'll remember, when John Moores sold a stake in the team to pay off his ex-wife. If it plays out that way further up the California coastline, Cuban told the Los Angeles Times that he'd be interested in buying the team.

Ned Colletti hasn't been perfect in four seasons as the Dodgers' general manager. But he promises he has learned from his mistakes.

The team announced Tuesday that Colletti had agreed to a "long-term" extension.

"I think that some of the decisions we made that didn't work out particularly well were out of impatience on our own part," Colletti said -- referring to (not by name) -- contracts for Juan Pierre, Jason Schmidt and Andruw Jones. "I think the last year or so our deliberation and our thought process were keener, were a little bit more fine-tuned, were less impatient."

Instead, the Dodgers have blended acquisitions (Manny Ramirez, Orlando Hudson, Rafael Furcal, Casey Blake, Hiroki Kuroda) with a home-grown core.

Los Angeles Dodgers owner Frank McCourt and his wife, Jamie, have confirmed to the Associated Press that they have separated a few days after Frank attended the Cardinals-Dodgers game alone. This is intriguing news in terms of how it may effect the inner workings of the Dodgers' front office. Jamie McCourt is the team president and CEO of the Dodgers -- making her the highest ranking female in all of baseball.

If the separation continues and evolves into a divorce, how will all their substantial assets be divided? They've been married since 1979, so the ownership of the Dodgers -- and the job of the team president -- will likely be at stake during proceedings.

What, did somebody die? There are too many grave problems in this world for Manny Ramirez to sequester his dreadlocked soul in solitary confinement. He prefers to hide this week, a full seven days after word surfaced of his self-inflicted steroid shame, rather than apologize in person to his Los Angeles Dodgers teammates as the club's mortified owner has demanded.

"He's really beaten up over this. He's embarrassed," manager Joe Torre said. "I think it's going to take him time to clear his head. We want to see him as a team. The players are here, and they're supporting him. But right now, he's not ready for it."

One, two, three: Awwwwwwww.

With no better evidence than dreadlocks, a skullcap, a chubby belly, a No. 99 jersey and a uniquely goofy grin, Manny Ramirez is a lovable lunkhead, a cartoon character, a klutz and a moody cuss. He's also maybe the best right-handed hitter of his generation, which might explain why I can't stay mad at the dude very long, hard as I try. Some places are more conducive than others to hosting a daily extravaganza such as Manny Being Manny.

Boston was uptight, filled with too many die-hards who clutch rosaries, live and die on every pitch, obsess over the Yankees and prefer keeping score to drinking beer. Philly and New York wouldn't work, either, not when the fans are crazier than Ramirez himself. And don't suggest Wrigley Field, where he'd lose himself in the ivy and never return.

In L.A., though, they get Manny.

The other afternoon, a couple of eight-year-old boys were hanging out not far from George Washington High in New York's Washington Heights, talking about Manny. It was a snow day, no school for a glorious 24 hours, and in between pounding bystanders with perfect slushy strikes, the boys devised ways Manny Ramirez and the Los Angeles Dodgers could come to some sort of contractual agreement.

It was a tough chore, what with Manny being allergic to Spring Training and the Dodgers not willing to get in a bidding war with a team that exists only in the dark recesses of agent Scott Boras' mind.

But from the mouth of babes, in honor of one of G-Dub's finest, what followed was a cunning plan designed to bring an end to the offseason's most childish feud.

When the Dodgers told the world that Manny Ramirez rejected their two-year, $45 million offer, they forgot to mention a tiny detail: most of that money would be deferred over five years without interest. According to SI.com's Jon Heyman, the contract called for Ramirez to be paid $10 million over each of the next four years and $5 million in 2013 -- in today's dollars, the estimated actual value of the contract is closer to $42 million.

Scott Boras didn't appreciate the fact that team officials conveniently forgot to include that fact while dishing to the press on Thursday, so he countered by announcing that his client would accept a two-year, $45 million deal -- so long as none of the money was deferred.

The Daily Jolt is a dose of baseball reality every weekday.

Good for the Dodgers. Good for the McCourt family and even for (gulp) general manager Ned Colletti. Mercurial slugger Manny Ramirez has rejected the Dodgers' fourth contract offer this winter, rumored to be a two-year, $45 million deal that featured a $20 million player-only option in the second year of the contract.

Los Angeles' management has apparently had enough.

From the Windup is FanHouse's extended look at a particular portion of America's pastime.

Salary Cap. There's not a more controversial phrase in baseball economics. The prospect of one hung over the strike of 1994 and 1995 before the owners and players managed to settle without implementing a true cap. Since then, baseball has instituted a luxury tax that acts as a sort of soft cap, but it's set high enough that it only really affects the Yankees annually, and they regard it in the same manner that a rhinoceros regards a mosquito.

For the most part, a salary cap hasn't been part of the conversation in baseball for several years. The Yankees ridiculous spending spree this winter, however, has changed things. In the days and weeks since their signings of CC Sabathia and Mark Teixeira, Brewers owner Mark Attanasio and Astros owner Drayton McLane have once again begun to call for a salary cap. They're the only two owners to have spoken directly on this issue, but it's hard to think they're alone.

A salary cap in baseball is not a simple thing. In most sports, there's only one line in labor negotiations: the line between the players and the owners. In baseball, there's actually a three-way divide between the players, the "big-market" owners (for lack of a better term), and the "small-market" owners. The MLBPA isn't the only thing that stands in the way of a cap. Some of the owners (think John Henry, the Steinbrenners, naturally, the Wilpons, Frank McCourt, Arte Moreno) would likely be opposed to one as well. After the jump, we'll look at all the obstacles and problems with implementing a cap.

All is not well in Dodgerland right now. Sure, the McCourt family can be thankful that regardless of the country's economic turmoils, they will always and forever have millions of dollars -- a tough burden to bear for sure. And yes, T.J. Simers and Bill Plaschke should be thankful that they have jobs. Seriously, seriously thankful.

But a holiday doesn't give us a good reason to ignore the weird noise coming from Frank and Jamie re: how they want to use their money -- baseball or society. See, they recently came out and asked the good people of Los Angeles, "Do you want high priced, dreadlocked free agents ... or do you want youth baseball fields?"

"If you bring somebody in to play and pay them, pick a number, $30 million, does that seem a little weird to you?" Jamie McCourt asked in an interview at the Evergreen Recreation Center in East Los Angeles. "That's what we're trying to figure out. We're really trying to see it through the eyes of our fans. We're really trying to understand, would they rather have the 50 fields?"

Ahhh. The glorious nobility of , um, nobility. There's only one problem -- as the 'Courts discuss how to go about distributing what little baseball money they have, they're still, as Simers noted, easily lining their pockets with the hard earned cash of fans.

Ninety dollars a ticket sounds like a lot until you break it down. It's really only nine Anthony Davis autographs, or $410 less than what the Dodgers charged 250 fans each the other night to take batting practice at Dodger Stadium and pose for pictures with Russell Martin and Andre Ethier.