The longest line at Camelback Ranch begins forming every day at about 11 a.m. along a dusty back sidewalk.
It is a group gathered not around a bullpen or batting cage, but a giant bobblehead doll.
It is fans seeking the signature not of Clayton Kershaw or Corey Seager but of a deeply aging man in a rumpled jersey who has been employed by the Dodgers more than twice as long as either of those players has lived.
In his 90th year on earth and his 68th as a Dodger, he begins another season as their creaking, cackling, careening-into-the-sunset monument. He is the face on that big doll, he was once the most famous baseball personality in the world, yet his essence...