The Twittersphere is an oddly fantastic place. It’s a lot like American Gladiators, you either get it or you’re like “Dude, wtf is this insanity?”
So whenever someone comes along and does something different, I have to give credit.
We have a new follower whose handle is @White_Sox_Fans
Of course, I assumed it’d be one of those generic, autoposting, borderline-spamming accounts that just pumped link after link of White Sox affiliated stuff. But then I saw the profile picture!
And I also thought, Tigers fans could take the above hint and put sexy back into the grandest game on earth. What do ya think?
Team sports pride themselves on their uniformity. It’s how you tell one team from the other and it allows the players to bond within a certain sameness. Which, when you think about it, isn’t so different from what the Soviets attempted to do. Treat everyone the same, make them wear the same clothes and assume that this will create a sense of community out of thin air. How’d that work out?
Is it any surprise, then, that those who play organized team sports back here in the US chafe against these strictures? We grow up hearing about how unique we are and how we can do anything. Then we go out to play a game and we’re put in matching uniforms and tied into a system.
The worst offender by far is NFL football. Just try wearing an unauthorized pair of shoes or the wrong color socks and see what happens. It doesn’t matter for the superstars because their wallets can absorb it but imagine being one of these guys making the league minimum yet wanting to show his individuality. That’s going to cost you.
I guess that’s another reason why I like baseball. Sure, you still have to wear a uniform and you still have to play by the rules but there’s some leeway. You can wear stirrups or the long baseball pants. You can wear a different colored shoe. You can cover your batting helmet in pine tar to the point that the team logo is barely discernible.
It’s one more reason why baseball is America’s pastime and why it’s stuck around through three different centuries. It evolves and it allows the players to show their individuality within the confines of the game in a way that no other sport can. MLB is Kennedy to the NFL’s Kruschev. We all know who came out on top in that one. Well, except that whole assassination thing.
Boston just got a bazillion times cooler. Seriously, I’m pumped to have Bobby V back in the game, just so I can post slobbery fanboy I’m-in-complete-awe-of-you-Bobby material.
For example, did you know that in addition to inventing “the wrap” and never mispronouncing Benny Agbayani’s name, Valentine is ALSO a 12th degree super-stealth NINJA!?!?
I love him.
Hate me for that. Fine. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
There are only two serious contenders for the Republican presidential nomination. Ok, let me rephrase. There are only two contenders for the Republican presidential nomination who should be taken seriously. And yet somehow, the polls see the Republicans bouncing from one disaster to the next. Is Mormonism really so bad that you’d prefer Herman Cain?
Because let’s face it, there are only two guys who could win a general election. Obama may be down for the moment but he’s got a year and he also has a formidable machine. Without actual ideas, the challengers aren’t going to get very far.
Let me try to explain this in other terms. Obama is the St. Louis Cardinals in August. In August, even Jeff knew the Cardinals were toast and should start looking at their chances for the next season. Two months later, they head home as World Series champions. That’s Obama.
If you want to beat that, you better have a realistic alternative. And just for the record, “9-9-9” is not a realistic alternative nor is a twice-divorced has-been looking for a comeback. Realistic is having run the U.S. Embassy in China. Realistic is making universal health care palatable to both sides of the aisle. Realistic is Huntsman or Romney and unless the Republicans realize that soon, realistic is also an Obama win in 2012.
Stop it. Stop looking at me like that. If you want a Bobby Valentine/Red Sox dramaschlobfest post then go check out the worldwide leader in sports smut.
This is Red State Blue State.
And today we’re talking about THE MAYOR.
That’s right. While Larry Lucchino was busy going behind Red Sox GM Ben Cherington’s back to hire a sexy manager (note: it only took them TWO FRIGGIN MONTHS TO DO THE DAMN THANG), the Cincinnati Reds announced that Sean Casey — The Mayor — would be enshrined in the Reds Hall of Fame.
Hot diggity dang!
Nevermind that Casey got in the Reds Hall of Fame by way of a fan vote. Dude hit .305 lifetime for Cincinnati, not to mention the millions of smiles he instigated, just for being a big goofy loon armed with a sweet, sweeping lefty swing. The Mayor is one of baseball’s good guys — the kind you wish you could trade for the likes of Milton Bradley, Kevin Brown and John Rocker — and it’s about time the good guy got some love, even if it is in Cincinnati, where sports have gone to die (just kidding, Andy Dalton).
If you watch the MLB Network, you know The Mayor’s comedic timing and all-around fun fella persona aren’t just the stuff of clubhouse lore. He really is an unfettered goofball. And his laugh is contagious, especially after 6 beers.
And if this Mayor induction leaves you feeling nothing else, at the very least you should feel good that the guy who brought you the only 5-7-3 ground-out in baseball history (vid here, tentatively, until the MLBAM nazis take it down) will be memorialized along with this guy:
Hate me, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.