A Los Doyers opener, looking more like an orange-and-black tie affair

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No need to add any extra mustard to the new Doyers Dog. Maybe tabasco?

New traditions collide with old habits, like old rivalries adding new players. Or switching them.

You, Juan Uribe. Read the sign. No fraternization with the opposing team.

There’s no such signage? Sorry, then it’s implied — prior to entering the batting cage to take some pregame cuts, it’s not cool to be over near the Giants’ dugout exchanging back slaps with the guys you once bonded with and won a World Series. Your diamond-crusted ring will come in due time.

Meanwhile, find a place on the Dodgers’ infield. Third base, tonight. Second base, later. You ever catch?

It’s already foreign enough to ask fans to come to an Opening Day that goes along with a 5 p.m. first pitch on a Thursday. Add to that the Foreigner song “Urgent” blaring over the speakers while the Dodgers get loose on the field below.

What’s the emergency? Urgent care can wait. Where’s Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’?”

(Hang on, Placido Domingo is standing next to Nancy Bea Hefly at her press box organ position, practicing his rendition of the National Anthem. It doesn’t get more bizarro. It’s just One Tenor. That’s all they can afford these days.)

The Giants are el gigante, champions of the baseball world.

The Dodgers are . . . introducing a new slogan. No more “My Town.” Now, you complete the phrase, “It’s Time For . . . ”

“New owners,” says one young fan, old enough to know better.

“A World Series in my lifetime,” adds another, one who’s pushing 20.

“A Kool-A-Koo,” says an oldtimer, refereing to the ice cream sandwich that would go well on this 90-degree-plus setting.

Sorry, they’re gone. Care for a frozen yogurt in a plastic helmet?

Here’s another new diversion: Doyers Dog, aka the latest heart attack waiting to happen. Another act of deception.

Here, you take your traditional Dodger Dog, except replace the meat-and-byproduct 12-incher with an all-beef wiener. Add chili, nacho cheese, chopped tomatoes, onions and jalapenos. And a larger bun to accomodate it all.

It’s just $8, or three more than the “regular” dog. And just a buck seventy-five more than the Veggie Dog, but guaranteed to cut at least three months off your life expectancy.

Does any of that make sense?

“Eight bucks?” said one customer as he ordered one.

“Yup,” said the friend who was with him. “Someone’s gotta pay for this McCourt divorce.”

Most major credit cards accepted.

It took us 13 bites to finish the one we dare ordered. Two legs to steady it on our lap. And at least as many napkins.

If only head chef Joseph Martin could have made this thing bacon-wrapped. With whip cream and melted butter.

There’ll be none of that at the new Healthy Plate Carts chalk full of arugula salads with toasted walnuts and goat cheese. There are also turkey burgers available for the first time, on whole wheat buns for crying out loud.

Over at the Stadium Club, there’s also a new drink called the “Charge” can be served up — Absolut vodka with a Sobe Full Throttle energy drink.

You take your caffeine when you can get it. It could be a long season.

And no more Canter’s Deli on the field level. The Dodgertown Deli replaces it, serving up its own hot pastrami on a French roll with pickle chips, or barbecue roast beef.

Russell Martin, you’re missing some fun here.

So there’s your new additions to the Dodgers roster. Along with Aaron Miles. Marcus Themes. Tony Gwynn Jr. Hector Giminez. Mike Hawksworth. Mike McDougal. And Lance Cormier.

Hold your applause until the entire roster is announced and they can introduce themselves to each other on the third base line.

Burp.

And that 2-1 win to wrap things up: Nice drama. They’re on pace for … well, you do the math.

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These aren’t the new Doyer Dogs. And shouldn’t be consumed. But they may cause heartburn.

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