Posh is bringing along some worn-out baggage

I KNOW she’s into football, considers herself a pretty fair singer and loves to shop, but you’ve got to admit Posh is a pretty good upgrade over the old gal who owns the Rams and still calls L.A. home.

As comparisons go, I’m sure they stop right there, but just the same -- if I’m Mr. Posh, I think twice when I finally move here about swimming in the ocean.

EVERYONE SEEMS excited about the arrival of Posh and what she might mean to our local economy after reportedly spending $100,000 on a one-day shopping spree. Kind of makes you a little fonder of the wife you already have -- doesn’t it?

The Mirror in England reported Posh has ruled out buying Lionel Richie’s place in the Hollywood Hills, which was on the market for “7.5-million pounds” -- which goes to show you she’s not as “penny-wise, pound-foolish” as some of those tabloids across the pond might have you believe.

The Mirror also reported Posh will continue looking “in the celebrity-infested areas of Los Angeles,” which probably rules out bumping into her in Placentia, so I’m going to have to spend more time again at the Playboy Mansion if we’re going to get together to shoot the breeze. (I just wish it wasn’t so humid in the Grotto -- it really does a number on your hair.)

Hef’s friends have already invited Posh to pose for some pictures, which is a nice way of making someone feel at home. I wish I had thought of that. I’d like to write about her, and it’d be nice if I could get her to bare her soul.

I know she’s married to a soccer player, a benchwarmer in Spain, who will be coming here this summer because no one else wants him.

In a speech to university students recently, the president of the team that has Mr. Posh sitting on the bench said, “The proof that our technical staff was correct not to retain him has been borne out by every other technical staff in the world not wanting [Mr. Posh] even though he was [going to be a free agent.]”

The Dodgers just made a point of bringing back Mark Hendrickson, the big stiff -- and no one wants Mr. Posh? The guy must be really crummy.

You would think someone who calls herself “Posh” wouldn’t settle for just a benchwarmer. In fact, according to humorsphere.com, she’s married to a joke:

“What would [Mr. Posh’s] name be if he was a Spice Girl?”

“Waste of Spice.”

THE PRESS over there isn’t too fond of the benchwarmer these days, so it’s understandable why he’d like to disappear -- and play soccer in America.

The media is easier on Mrs. Posh, knowing that she once got mad at a question asked by supermodel Naomi Campbell, and according to Wikipedia, called Campbell “a massive cow.”

I have this feeling we won’t be seeing her on “The View” any time soon, or anywhere else they ask tough questions. I guess that only leaves an interview with Fred Roggin at some point.

As for Mr. Posh, I wonder how often anyone talks to him now that he’s finished. I didn’t see him quoted on Sportsbybrooks.com, but the late soccer great George Best once offered his assessment of Mr. Posh.

“He cannot kick with his left foot, he cannot head a ball, he cannot tackle and he doesn’t score many goals. Apart from that, he’s all right.”

I WAS a little surprised about the hubbub surrounding the news that we’ll be joined by Mr. and Mrs. Posh, but I was on my way to Las Vegas and didn’t give it any thought. I looked at a TV at one point, and noticed Mr. Posh being interviewed on “Cold Pizza” and took it for granted that’s where you’d expect to see a benchwarmer being interviewed.

When I returned home, though, I was surprised to see no one from the L.A. media apparently seemed interested in talking to a benchwarmer.

Later I learned, though, it was Mr. Posh -- hired to promote soccer in this country -- who didn’t want to talk soccer to anyone in L.A. I don’t know what it is about these people who run Staples Center, but they hired a Kings goalie, and he didn’t want to stop the puck.

If I was a benchwarmer, I probably wouldn’t want to explain again and again why I’m no good anymore. I was told if I wanted to contact Mr. Posh, I should e-mail his PR guy, Simon Oliveira. Now isn’t that a hoot -- a benchwarmer with a PR guy.

“Do you know that some male penguins use yawning as part of their courtship of females?” Oliveira replied, and I grew up watching Benny Hill, so I know most of the people living over there are loony tunes.

” ... At the moment we are not doing any interviews,” Oliveira wrote, and I had no idea where he got the notion I had an interest in interviewing him.

Oh well, I tried -- putting in more effort than I can remember trying to talk to a benchwarmer. And all I wanted was just the chance to ask him if he could introduce me to his better half.

I CANNOT imagine anyone nicer than Angels director of communications Nancy Mazmanian, which probably tells you a lot about her parents, Art and Shirley Mazmanian.

Art and Shirley married almost 56 years ago. But a little more than six years ago, Shirley suffered a stroke, and at that point, her husband, a baseball player at USC and later a long-time coach at Mt. San Antonio College, became her caretaker.

Last week, Shirley died at 78.

“When my mom had her stroke, my Dad taught me a wonderful lesson,” Nancy said. “I asked him if he was going to be OK, and he said, ‘When I married your mom, I told her for better or for worse, and for almost 50 years it’s been the best it can be. So I can handle a little difficult time.’

“My Dad never complained once in the last 6 1/2 years. He was always optimistic. I wish I could be more like him.”

*

T.J. Simers can be reached at [email protected]. To read previous columns by Simers, go to latimes.com/simers.