Yes. Let’s buy the Dodgers. You, me … and a few million other fans.

What, you don’t have a credit line of several hundred million dollars?

Don’t worry. Just hear me out. This absolutely is not the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. Promise.

First, let’s stipulate:

–Lots of us love (or loved)  the Los Angeles Dodgers franchise. It is an important part of the social fabric of Southern California.

–The current ownership is a disaster. They are destroying the team and alienating fans. They are East Coast carpet-baggers who see the Dodgers merely as a cash cow and point of entree into Los Angeles society. Who have signed off on a plan to gouge fans and starve the payroll through 2018. A husband and wife “team” who now are getting divorced, to the detriment (already apparent) of the club.

Can we all agree on that?

Thought so.

So, what do we need to 1) make the McCourts (Frank and Jamie) go away … and 2) how do we make sure the club purchased by people who care about the team and 3) run by someone who knows what he is doing?

We buy the team. And own it, collectively. Like Green Bay fans own the Packers.

And then we draft Peter O’Malley out of retirement, pay him a nice salary and ask him to create the best team that doesn’t lose money. Which he will do. Because he is prudent, because he knows his stuff. Because he knows the franchise and poured his adult life into it and sold it only because inheritance taxes were going to crush him and he didn’t have enough money to compete.

And because we trust Peter and wish to God (every time we think it through) that he still owned the team.

OK, you say. I’m with you, Paul, but how is this going to work?

Glad you asked.

I just looked up the Forbes magazine figures from last April in which the magazine put a value on every Major League Baseball franchise.

According to Forbes, the Dodgers were worth $722 million.

A lot of money. Yes. But don’t be alarmed. We can do this.

The Dodgers say they sold 3.8 million tickets last year. Many of those tickets went to people who attended multiple games. You know who you are.

What if … every person who attended a game in 2009 … came up with $200 for every game he or she saw? What if we pooled that money?

That would generate $760 million. In cash.  Bang.

Let’s say we sent that money to some financial dude (we must have a lawyer or an accountant in the crowd who can nominate somebody, right?) who collects this money, deposits in short-term interest-bearing bonds …

And then we deputize someone glamorous who cares about Los Angeles and Los Angeles sports and is financially savvy and honest (Peter Ueberroth sounds good to me, but I’m open to suggestions) to volunteer his time … and have them negotiate with Peter O’Malley to bring him out of retirement. We can pay Peter, say, $3 million a year to run the team. Just cuz we like him and we want to make it worth his while. We are paying for his expertise. (This is big business, guys.)

Then, at the end of this season, when the McCourts’ divorce is final, and Frank has to give Jamie basically everything he owns that isn’t the ball club, and is down to wondering where his next Riviera membership/Lamborghini/fur sink is coming from … we have the Two Peters sit down with him and offer our $780 million (cash) for the Dodgers.

I think Frank will take it. Especially after we mobilize the entire community and make it clear to the McCourts that they are no longer welcome as operators of the ballclub (I’m thinking a chant of “sell the team! sell the team!” every day from August forward, would help). We don’t care what they do with the money. Because it is worth it to us, as Dodgers fans,  just to have them gone and Peter O’Malley in charge. (The words “tar” and “feather” might come up, now and then,  too. Maybe that could become a chant, later this year,  when the club is 75-80 and playing out the string. “Tar and feather! Tar and feather!”)

So, yes. Frank gives Jamie half of his … stuff … and has nothing left but the club. No cash. Just the team. And we buy him out. Goodbye and good riddance. Go back to Boston.

We, the fans, own the team, but we create some sort of legal apparatus that installs Peter O’Malley (or his designee, at some later date) as the “managing general partner” (yes,  same title Al Davis has), who goes to owners meetings and is the kind of familiar face and experienced hand who could get the MLB to approve the sale.

For operating capital that first year … we take out loans against Dodger Stadium and maybe we go back to the ownership (you and me) for another round of fund-raising. After the first year, the budget is self-perpetuating.

And then it’s all just chrome.

Peter comes in knowing that we, as consumers are price sensitive. We make sure he remembers (and he already does) that we don’t mind high prices for seats behind home plate, but we want $10 prices for the Top of the Park, and maybe $12 for the outer reaches of the reserved level, and $15 for the pavilions. But we empower him to call a vote of the membership (that’s all the fans who contributed at least $20) to approve ticket price hikes. If things are dire, maybe we will. The price of tickets and parking cannot be raised without fan approval. Period.

We let Peter do everything else. Hire the general manager who hires the manager, sign off on player contracts, sell advertising, make sure Vin Scully never leaves. Heck, take the team back to Vero Beach for spring training, if he wants.

The only caveat being … the club can never run a deficit two years running. It must break even. That includes maintenance of Dodger Stadium, of course, and perhaps 1 percent put away each season in a reserve fund.

And if there is any profit,  it all goes to charities which we, the owners, will choose by ballot. With the charities benefitting on a ratio proportional to how many of us voted for them in our “what do we do with the profits” survey. Which perhaps should be held annually. (Thus, if Toys for Tots gets 10 percent of the fans’ vote, it gets 10 percent of the profit.)

If the profit is 5 percent, that fifth percentile becomes a bonus for all Dodgers employees, including hourly workers. Roger the Peanut Man, Nancy Bea Hefley, etc.) In fact, let’s say that for every additional multiple of 5 percent profit (10th percentile, 15th,  etc.) Dodgers non-player employees divvy it up. Isn’t that a nice incentive to make sure fans come back?

And if the club loses money? Well, Peter will have to cut player salaries unless he convinces us that we need to raise ticket prices, and we vote to do that. If we don’t vote for it, then he cuts the payroll further. Because it will be written into the constitution.

And this is important. When we, the fans, buy the club, we all get framed certificates showing how many shares of the club we own.

How great could this be? We own the team! Forever. We don’t run it, but we own it! We pass down our “proof of ownership” certificates to our descendants. Peter O’Malley or someone else interested in Los Angeles and in the Dodgers, runs the team. Profits go to charities, except for that fraction that goes to employees.

The club does not exist to fuel other investments. It is separate and distinct. We own it, but we let experts run it.

This can work, people! Wouldn’t it be great to have the McCourts gone?  Wouldn’t it be freakin’ unbelievable if we owned the team? And let someone who loves the team run it?

Is anybody with me? Really, can you think of a better idea? I’m open to it.

But right now, I am ready to write that check for $400 — covering the two games I saw last year. Just spell my name right on my ownership certificate.