The last thing I want to do on this fine Saturday afternoon is give any more attention to bumspazz homophobe trainwreck Roger McDowell, but I am having problems dealing with the hate-induced rant that caused him to scream: “kids don’t belong in the (bleeping) ballpark!”
Sorry, McDowell. You are a bonafide jerkwad.
And a waste of our national pastime’s space.
Dude, kids ARE the ballpark.
And for me, thinking back to my childhood days… about the wonders of green astroturf lighting up my eyes on a breezy summer day, sharing a bag of roasted peanuts with my old man, reciting player tidbits I memorized from the backs of baseball cards… I smile now, just as big and just as bright as I did then.
Because life at home wasn’t always great.
My mom and dad didn’t love each other anymore. My sister and I were separated by 120 miles. And I had a penchant for being passive-aggressive… all quiet and bottled up until BOOM — someone got hurt.
At the ballpark — a magical otherworld where all of life’s problems were strictly prohibited — I could just be me.
I could just be a kid.
I could just be…
Hate me ‘cuz I make up words (sometimes), just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
The human mind searches for patterns in everything. Numbers, deaths, waves of killer bees. We’re programmed to find a rational underpinning for why things happen.
That’s one of the reasons why Operation Geronimo thrills us to our core. Sure, we got public enemy number one. We killed the boogie man. But there’s a symmetry that makes the story even more compelling. Ten years ago the US was attacked and now, ten years later, we finally got the SOB that did it. We can ignore the ongoing wars and the financial ruin they’ve wreaked because OBL’s arrival and departure neatly bookend a ten-year stretch in which we were forced at times to question who we were as a nation but ultimately overcame. It’s the American Dream writ large.
Outside of the existential thrill of taking down Bin Laden and reaffirming the American Dream, though, there’s another story here. Where was the President during those long days fighting over the budget? What was he doing while people accused him of being a secret Muslim sleeper agent and insinuated he wasn’t even American? Turns out we finally have our answer:
So much awesomeness has taken over the baseball-politico world lately — 2011 finally found itself a no-hitter, Al Qaeda lost its head, Glenn Beck still doesn’t have his own network — that we thought it’d be nice to share an equally surprising story.
Lucky for you, the RSBS interns dug up somethin’ real niiiiiiiiice.
Most people know about Doc Ellis’ LSD-aided no-hitter… it’s just more fun to hear him tell it in his own words:
Back and to the left, back and to the left…
Good afternoon gentleman, ladies and Allen.
Wanna get turned on whilst young children (maybe your own) are in the room?? Someone does!!
If you just woke up from a coma and realized that some Navy Seals in Pakistan just found Jimmy Hoffa’s body, you may have missed some of the greatest video ever known to man (until we get to see some grainy footage of a lunatic gettin shot in the eye).
Braves pitching coach Roger McDowell made some absurd homophobic slurs at some Giants fans in the presence of children the other day… because that would never happen at a mostly white male sporting event.
Usually these types of remarks come from someone who’s probably closeted in his own way… and from what I’VE heard, Roger McDowell could really smoke the fastball back in the day!!! Right????
THE HORROR!!! But wait!!!
The world has now benefited from some wonderful video conferencing, herein such…
But what I really want to talk about is the legendary Gloria Allred.
I have a feeling about how her meeting with her new client went down involving said bat:
“Look, here’s how this is gonna go: if you allow me to take this case pro bono, the press conference will go something like this… I’ll cradle the ****… stroke the *****… work the ****… and swallow the *****… Get it over here buddy let’s do this…”
What is in my head right now as I watch this? The hornswaggling bamboozelment of this sap (client) will be legendary. In fact, someday these kids will grow up and realize how much of a ridiculous piece of crap their father is.
I wish I had that weird District 9 prawn alien laser gun bazooka to blow her up into a million lawyer parts.
— Johanna Mahmud
Although a large percentage of the US is located in what the coasts refer to as “fly-over country,” that’s not necessarily such a bad thing. For instance, being from Michigan, I grew up with access to Faygo which is, without a doubt, the best almost-generic soda in the country. Michigan also has Vernors which is an odd cousin to ginger-ale. If that wasn’t enough, Michigan also refers to soda as “pop.” Now that I think about, we have some really weird neuroses going on when it comes to carbonated beverages.
As bad as our soda-based idiosyncrasies may be, though, we’ve also got some mad talent. Madonna, Eminem, Kid Rock, all Michiganders. If you really want to get honest with yourself, you have to admit that native Michigander Ted Nugent can kick some serious tail, too.
Why do I mention all this? Because meanwhile, out east, this is happening:
Game, set and match to the fly-over states.
1. Reinstate the All-Star Game as an exhibition game with no World Series home field implications
2. Get Charlie Sheen to go away
3. Figure out what the hell Brian Wilson’s beard is actually made of.
If we can do all of the above, then I would really be impressed.
And the world will thank us.
Hate me ‘cuz you can, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Selig and the owners finally had enough of McCourt and took action, but
what about the franchises that are still technically solvent but just
suck? Why hasn’t the commish done something about the Pirates?
why shouldn’t they? In all of professional sports, one would have quite a
difficult time finding a more moribund team than the lowly Buccos.
While all of the big four US American sports thrive by having a healthy,
parity-laden cycle of teams going from the top of the ranks to the
bottom and everywhere in between, the Pittsburgh Pirates have been stuck
at bad. For 18, long, terrible, horrible, awful, green-pea-spew inducing years.
In a row.
So, indeed, Mr. Dan, you bring up an excellent question: How is it that MLB sees no issue intervening with financially strapped clubs like the current Dodgers or the late Expos de Montréal (pouring out some liquor for my boy, Youppi yo!) but meanwhile sits back and says nothing as the Pirates organization embarrasses itself year after year after year, alienating the five or so fans left in western Pennsylvania in doing so?
That’s easy, Dan. One word:
The Pirates may have more issues than Lindsay Lohan on $5 Jaegerbomb night, but, when all is done, the Pirates still MAKE MONEY.
Haven’t you noticed? To the suits picking each other’s noses up in the luxury boxes, it’s not about winning. It’s not about getting better. It’s not about keeping score or the waft of freshly roasted peanuts or the soothing effects of finely cut green grass on the old eyeballs.
It’s about making bank.
And as long as they line their pockets with plenty of paper, MLB ain’t gonna say jack.
Like my loquacious and oft contorted colleague, Mr. Krause recently pointed out, sometimes MLB gets it right. King Bud could not sit back and let one of the league’s most storied franchises fail because of atrocious financial mismanagement. And other times, MLB gets it way wrong… like they did in intervening with the Florida Marlins (a very successful organization in regards to winning) and the way they chose to spend profit sharing funds trickling down from the top*.
But one thing is certain: MLB is a business. MLB is about being a profitable business. As much as romanticized baseball super-nerd-dorks like Mr. Krause and I would like to believe that a certain utopian joy for the game and its purity is at the core of Major League Baseball’s business philosophy, the truth is: it ain’t.
If it were, the Expos would still be alive. The Dodgers would have never left Brooklyn. And someone would have intervened in the gargantuan atrocity also known as the Pirates’ front office.
Hate me. Fine. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
*For an excellent read on just how wrong MLB was in their handling of the Marlins, check out this article from the Prince of New York.
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