I saw enough of the Washington Nationals Opener on Monday to witness Obama mocking the sport, the fans, and tradition when he donned a White Sox cap for his ceremonial first pitch. I mainly tuned in to hear the crowd reaction to him which was mixed at best (not a good sign for him considering it was in the liberal bastion of Washington DC) and the boos overpowered the cheers after he added the sullied Southsider chapeau. Not too long afterward he made his way to the booth where a fawning Rob Dibble pitched him what news industry insiders call a 'soft ball' question. In fact there could hardly be a potential softer ball question than was served; but Obama managed to strike out on one pitch.
Dibble: Who are some of your favorite White Sox players? (They don't get much easier for a president.)
Long awkward pause (come on Barry - can you even name a guy on the field below you - considering that they HAVE THEIR NAMES ON THEIR BACKS????) STRIKE ONE.
Obama: You know, blah blah blah, I like a lot of Cubs players too... (Really? Can you name any of THEM? Carlos Zambrano? Derrik Lee? Ryne Sandberg? I'd even give you credit for Evers, Tinker, or Chance.) STRIKE TWO.
Obama continues: ...blah, blah, blah, Cominskey Park, blah, blah... (Cominskey? Don't you mean Comiskey? You know named after the infamous late owner of the White Sox who wouldn't even pay to launder their uniforms?) BALL ONE - since I've heard a lot of people who aren't worthless 'presidents' add the extraneous 'n' to Charlie Comiskey's last name.
Obama continues: ...blah, blah, White Sox play blue collar baseball (Huh? What the H*ll is blue collar baseball? For that matter what the H*ll would be considered white collar baseball? Their minimum wage is almost what you make a year, moron!) ...blah, blah Steve Bartman blah, blah... (Wait! He actually threw a name out there! Granted it is only the most (wrongly) maligned name in Chicago history but the man never played major league baseball. And it STILL has nothing to do with the White Sox.) STEEEEERIKE THREE! YOU'RE OUTTA THERE!
By today, everyone with internet knows the name Mark Beuhrle (whether or not you can spell it) for his cool between the legs play to get an out at first on Monday. Fans know other names like new White Sox SS Omar Vizquel or pitcher Jake Peavy. Even if you don't know any modern White Sox, you can always fall back and punt (sorry to mix sports metaphors) with a classic line: I've always liked Shoeless Joe Jackson and think he got a raw deal in the "Black Sox Scandal". Anyone who knows baseball will nod vigorously in agreement giving you at least a "walk" to first - though you may have to endure a lengthy monologue that rehashes the 1919 Black Sox Scandal and a detailed recap of Joe Jackson's stats for the World Series. But alas for 'glorious comrade leader' he couldn't even come up with that!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
The Eternal Hope of Spring
Unlike Obama's false hope and change, Spring brings actual hope to us every year. No matter how bad the winter, how hard the times, as the days lengthen and the last gasps of winter rage about us, all humans no matter their religion or culture are filled with new hope every spring.
Spring's greatest hope comes in the form of Easter, the day Christianity celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ as the Savior of all mankind. Easter generally falls around one of the most ancient holy days celebrated by Christianity's older sibling Judaism: Passover. The Jewish Passover has been celebrated continuously for roughly four millenia now. Foreshadowing the salvation of Christ by about 2000 years, faithful Jews brushed lamb's blood on their doorposts at Moses command to avoid the last of the plagues visited on Egypt. That night the angel sent by God to kill all the firstborn of Egypt 'passed over' the houses with lamb's blood on the doorposts. Jesus is often referred to as the lamb of God and like the faithful Jews in Egypt, God will recognize us as His own when we paint the "Blood of the Lamb" on our spiritual doorposts. Have you taken this important step to be passed over for death?
The other great hope that 'springs eternal' every April is the opening of Baseball Season. Like the Jews during the Diaspora would utter the hopeful phrase "Next year in Jerusalem", Cubs fans claim that this year is their year. One wonders if Cubs fans will wander longer than the Jews. Today though is the day that every fan of every of the 30 MLB teams can hope that this is their year (except probably for Mets fans who languish in the eternal torment of injury Limbo). For baseball fans hope and summer are measured by 162 games rather than days. The rainiest day of summer will be bright when our team wins and the sunniest day will be dimmed a bit when they lose; but until the end of September, tomorrow brings hope that they will win again and we can bask in the warm glow of victory clear through October.
Here's a little tidbit of wisdom from Earl Pitts.
The three words every man wants to hear from a woman: Want more bacon?
Spring's greatest hope comes in the form of Easter, the day Christianity celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ as the Savior of all mankind. Easter generally falls around one of the most ancient holy days celebrated by Christianity's older sibling Judaism: Passover. The Jewish Passover has been celebrated continuously for roughly four millenia now. Foreshadowing the salvation of Christ by about 2000 years, faithful Jews brushed lamb's blood on their doorposts at Moses command to avoid the last of the plagues visited on Egypt. That night the angel sent by God to kill all the firstborn of Egypt 'passed over' the houses with lamb's blood on the doorposts. Jesus is often referred to as the lamb of God and like the faithful Jews in Egypt, God will recognize us as His own when we paint the "Blood of the Lamb" on our spiritual doorposts. Have you taken this important step to be passed over for death?
The other great hope that 'springs eternal' every April is the opening of Baseball Season. Like the Jews during the Diaspora would utter the hopeful phrase "Next year in Jerusalem", Cubs fans claim that this year is their year. One wonders if Cubs fans will wander longer than the Jews. Today though is the day that every fan of every of the 30 MLB teams can hope that this is their year (except probably for Mets fans who languish in the eternal torment of injury Limbo). For baseball fans hope and summer are measured by 162 games rather than days. The rainiest day of summer will be bright when our team wins and the sunniest day will be dimmed a bit when they lose; but until the end of September, tomorrow brings hope that they will win again and we can bask in the warm glow of victory clear through October.
Here's a little tidbit of wisdom from Earl Pitts.
The three words every man wants to hear from a woman: Want more bacon?
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