It took 20 seconds. No more.

From the moment Andruw Jones' name was announced to lead off the second inning Friday night, the audience at Turner Field responded with an ovation, until a counter-melody of booing broke in. Then the response grew louder. Many were standing by the time he had finished digging in.

And with that, the last 20-second good-bye was over. By the time he took a called third strike — Jeff Bennett straightened him up with a change-up — Jones' 12 years as a Brave were officially and irrevocably closed. He's been a Los Angeles Dodger for nearly three weeks, but back on his old turf, the seeing was believing.

But as fan Ronnie Herden of Stockbridge said beforehand, leaning over the third base railing as Jones and the Dodgers went through pregame stretching, "That just doesn't look right."

"It's just different," Jones said, leaning back in a chair in the visitors clubhouse beforehand. "You wish you could keep with the team you came up with. Everybody wants to be with one team for his whole career. But this is a business, and it happened. And sometimes you have to move on and start something new."

Atlanta should be getting pretty good at this; with Jones in the L.A. clubhouse were Rafael Furcal (gone since 2005) and Jason Schmidt (gone since 1996). Tom Glavine has come and gone and come back again. But Jones had been out there almost every night for a dozen years. For all that, his second at-bat in the fourth was greeted with a consensus booing. (He struck out again on a high fastball.)

"The fans here have been great," Jones said. "We had great years here. We had championships, we had World Series. The fans have been great. But you never know. I think the only person they boo was Glavine because he pitched for the Mets."

In Los Angeles, they booed him just last weekend. Jones has stumbled out of the gate before but not like this. He opened the weekend series hitting .157 and the average was only that high because of a three-game hitting streak. Dodgers manager Joe Torre had Jones hitting fourth then fifth and then sixth before dropping him to seventh and then was considering giving him a night off, until he noticed how his center fielder had finally started to relax.

"I mean, if you [stink], you [stink]," Jones said. "People are going to boo you. It is what it is."

"All bets are off here," Torre said. "Hopefully, it works to our benefit. We hope he feels comfortable. But coming back, I'm sure it's an emotional time."

Torre knows something about coming back to Atlanta. A member of the inaugural Atlanta Braves and a two-time All-Star, he was dealt away after the 1968 season.

"I came back thinking I was going to get cheered," he said, "and they booed the hell out of me."

As it is, Jones is having his worst start of his career. Not since 1998, his second full year in the majors, did perform in April like this, when he hit only .213. But even then, as a 25-year-old, he hit four home runs and drove in 12.

His total this month: 0 homers and 0 RBIs. He admits to pressing.

"People come out expecting to watch do what you normally do every year," he said. "I wanted to go out in the first at-bat and hit four home runs. Those things go through your mind."

The weight issue didn't help. Jones appeared heavier when he reported to the Dodgers' Vero Beach camp and though he said Friday he was down to 240 pounds, his playing weight last year (when the Braves were still listing him at 210). When he collided with Furcal on a Brian McCann flared single in the fifth, Furcal went down like he'd run into a beer truck.

Los Angeles Times columnist T. J. Simers, who has begun calling Jones "tubbo" in second reference, challenged him to get on a scale last week. When the total came up 248, Jones explained he had his shoes on and that the scale bad been around since Jackie Robinson's time with the team.

In truth, he looked about the same as ever Friday night. Except in Dodger Blue.

"I don't know," the center fielder said. "I guess everyone in L.A. is skinny."