Vox Populi, Vox Dei

On the same night that Barack Obama became the definitive Democratic nominee and furthered his journey by taking the next step to becoming the president of hope for all US Americans, I too made a bold move that finally gave the people what they wanted.  Yes, dear readers, it is true that since late April, I have become somewhat of a recluse and have not made any public appearances at a baseball stadium near you.  This decision had nothing to do with those endearing fans who have urged me to come back into the light and everything to do with the fear mongering Cub fans and subsequent paparazzi that have simply been unable to leave me alone.  After my shotgun rise to fame, the careening death of my humility and myriad run-ins with the high demands of fans and foes alike, I ultimately found myself spent — empty of emotion, void of volition, destitute of destiny.

But sometimes the voice of the people is so loud and so strong and so motivating that not even I can ignore it.

And so it came to me in the middle of the night — that thunderous roar of resurgence inspired by the people — that no longer would I allow myself, my fans, my chimeric offspring, nor any other US American or world-inhabiting life form to continue down the path of never-ending disappointment.  No.  It was time to get out.  It was time to go to The Joan

The Royals were in town.  The Sox were standing atop the AL Central (still are).  And the people were ringing in my ears.

When I first stepped outside my Southside home I was pleasantly surprised to see that the paparazzi, hopeless that I would ever show my face in public again, were already gone.  I walked the few short blocks to the #8 Halsted bus stop at 29th & Halsted and to my delight, this is what I saw:

HPIM1167.JPG

What a beautiful sight to see no one around.  The coast was clear.  I could breathe easy.  Then the bus came.  Reality set in.  Chaos ensued.

HPIM1170.JPGHPIM1171.JPG

HPIM1174.JPG

HPIM1175.JPG

I barely made it out of there alive!  As soon as I stepped on the bus it started — the ambush of photographers, autograph seekers, ill-parented children.  Someone, somebody tipped them off to my arrival and I’m pretty sure it was my personal stylist, Miguel, who is, coincidentally, now dead.  I had nothing to do with his death (he was hit by the #62 Archer bus in a freak accident) but it’s obvious that he deserved it.   I’m lucky I survived on the #8 myself.

But I did.  And I was determined.

Unfortunately, it just wasn’t going to get any easier at the game.  A fog had set in over the city, eerily setting the stage for yet another blitzkrieg on my stardom, and not even Jermaine Dye (who is much more looming in person) could protect me from the evildoing Royals fans:

HPIM1205.JPG 
Yes, folks, Royals fans hate me too.  They hate me for my arrogance, righteousness, intelligence.  They hate me because I’m a Cardinals fan.  They hate me for my unending defamation of Don Denkinger, for my highly praised baseball-politico forum of RSBS and because I root for my neighborhood Sox.  But the main reason they hate me is ‘cuz I’m always right.

Duh.

And one Royals fan couldn’t stand to see me in my element — to see me make a graceful entrance to the section 110 box seats, greeted with fanfare and treated with respect.  No.  It made him turn blue and then it made him turn on me:

HPIM1209.JPGHPIM1208.JPG

HPIM1207.JPG

HPIM1211.JPG

I only blacked out for a second, but in that time A.J. hit a single and Carlos Quentin knocked him in by blasting a 2-run homer that landed just feet from me and the RSBS entourage.  I came to and noticed my cellphone was blowing up with text messages from my counterpart, Allen Krause, who was attending the St. Louis Cardinals v. D.C. Nationals matchup.  At the same exact time that I was getting beat up by a drunk Royals fan, Allen was getting his teeth kicked in by the Nats’ Elijah Dukes, who actually read Al’s blog entry, way back when, attacking Dukes for his predatory passes at a 17 year-old foster child.  It was raining heavily in D.C. and while the Cards were pounding the ball, Al just couldn’t take the excitement, the rain or the pain.  He texted me to say he was going home.

But I stayed.  The Royals fan was kicked out of the park by my — ahem — the White Sox security:

HPIM1198.JPG

HPIM1199.JPG

The Sox would continue to score runs, with homeruns from Alexei Ramirez and (hold your breath!) Nick Swisher, further adding to the Royals’ dismay.

And at the end of a colossally eventful night, the people got what they wanted: Obama won the nomination, Jenks pitched the 9th, the Cardinals beat the Nats, Elijah Dukes beat the snot out of Tiger-lover Allen Krause, and I got out of the house.

Life ain’t worth livin’ if ya don’t take some risks sometimes… and life ain’t worth livin’ if you hate me ‘cuz I’m right.  Just ask that Royals fan.

Peace,

Jeffy

4 Comments

Excellent reportage. I would also like to ask you a question, as you are MLBlogs resident Chinese expert. I read today that at the Beijing Olympics the spectators are being encouraged to shout “Jiayou” which as you know means “add oil”, this is said to be a popular Chinese sports chant. Why do they shout “add oil”? If you fail to answer your credibility will be destroyed. Thanks

http://arizonaviaslough.blogspot.com/

Why, Russell, how savvy you are in your Mandarin skills. Yes, they shout “jia you” and your description of the literal meaning is absolutely correct. Your question is WHY do they say this? My answer is multifaceted: First of all, I have no idea where it came from exactly, but I was told it came from a euphemism for a sexual act in order to procreate male heirs. I’ve also heard that it came from oil lamps in the Forbidden City, the Emperor’s commands ringing through the hallowed halls to “add oil”. But truthfully, these are probably all inaccurate as the REAL roots of the phrase, which I doubt are as concrete as people would like them to be. I mean, why do we say “raining cats and dogs”? It hasn’t ever REALLY rained cats and dogs, right? “Jia you” is a cool way to say “go get ‘em”! “Add oil, big fella!” You’ll probably also hear a lot of “Zhongguo wan sui!” too which literally means “China 10,000 Years Old” but actually means “Long live China”.

Language can be so confusing sometimes.

–Jeff

Yes I am savvy in my Mandarin skills, and thanks for the explanation. Incidentally,”raining cats and dogs” is believed to have come from 17th/18th Century England where sanitation was so poor that during heavy rainstorms debris,including dead animals, would be washed through the streets (at least that’s what it said when I Googled it).

I think you should just stay hold up in your mansion and not chance another beating. The family can not afford to lose you and your great earning potental. Only venture out in the big city with BABA by your side as he is the only one that can navigate you safely through those mean streets

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 67 other followers

%d bloggers like this: