What else is left to say? The tension is so thick in that clubhouse right now that you can hardly breathe. You get the feeling, just being around these guys, that they can’t wait to get away from each other for a few months. You wonder if the atmosphere is going to be any better when they all meet up again in Vero Beach next spring. You wonder if Jeff Kent might have talked his way into being traded — not that there is going to be much of a market for a guy who is going to turn 40 next spring, who has a $9 million salary and who has a famously prickly personality. You wonder if 4 1/2 months of being away from all this is going to fix it, change it, make it any better at all. This isn’t the end of 2005. The Dodgers aren’t close to being the complete and utter mess they were when Jim Tracy was fired by Paul DePodesta, Paul DePodesta was fired by Frank McCourt a month later and Terry Collins spent 24 hours thinking he was going to be named the team’s manager the next day only to have McCourt pull the rug and DePodesta out from under him. This isn’t even close to being that, and these Dodgers have a chance to be really good next year. But this much is certain: if everyone (Grady, Ned, the coaches, the players) simply pulls the covers over their eyes and pretends it’s all OK, then nothing is ever going get better. This clubhouse has become what MTV only wishes The Real World could be. Twenty-five (actually, right now, 36) people in one room, one dugout, one bus, one hotel, one airplane, and this week, they suddenly stopped being nice and started being real. But when you’re trying to win a championship, real can be a little overrated. Good luck, boys. Opening day is only six months away.