Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Boys of November?

The fifteen levels of playoffs have gone too far. I don't mind that they are in basketball (also known as running ping pong) or football ( also known as crunch, crunch, bang, bang, who really gives a crap?) or the Olympics (which should really be sponsored by Pfizer) but to be playing the World Series this late in the year is ridiculous. It may snow in Philadelphia tonight. I intend to stay up and watch the game. I took a long nap after my walk today so that I don't fall asleep. So much for the no television resolution but it is the WORLD SERIES! Shame on the fool that allowed things to go this far! This is BASEBALL, the national pastime.
It used to be so nice to go to a ball game. A cold beer, several hot dogs, popcorn, sausages and peppers were an addition that was acceptible, and a slight sunburn made the day perfect.
Now it looks like hot cocoa and nachos with ski parkas and gloves. No more "Kill the Umpire!", now it will be REPLAY, REPLAY, REPLAY! This is baseball, not synchronized swimming. We need a little more John McEnroe and a lot less Frosty the Snowman. This is the sport where you can jump to your feet when a human being lofts a ball, that is going over a hundred miles an hour, over the Green Monster. Do you get the same feeling when when an oversized monster makes a slam dunk or a Bambi-like receiver catchs a ball in the end zone? This is the sport of Lou Gherig and Joe DiMAGGIO and TED WILLIAMS and Kirk Gibson (will I ever forget that moment?). The world has changed. Not all change is good (are you listening Obama?) There is no smoking in the Cask and Flagon. There are no more nickel Cokes. You have to pay to get your telephone fixed. There are no more Carmellow Bars. THERE WILL BE PEOPLE DRINKING LATTES AT THE WORLD SERIES! Do you think that the Bambino would have had several Lattes and Nachos before each game. He would have had to leave the park to smoke his cigar.
I have heard that the problem with America today is that there are no more heroes. I think the problem is that there are too many sissies! We need a ball park where the beer taps flow, the hot dog rolls are graced with butter,and the vendors walk up and down the steps with ice cream sandwiches and chocolate covereds. IF YOU BUILD IT, THEY WILL COME! Where have you gone Jolting Joe?

1 comment:

sandwhichisthere said...

The game was good. I went to bed about eleven P.M.. I read for a while and learned that something I have long suspected has validity. I slept for a while and was awakened by a frightening dream. A dream of helplessness against an omnipotent force. Not the usual nightmare of being late for work but an even more terrifying dream. My eyes popped open and I lay in the dark. I realized that the terror that had paralyzed me no longer applies to me. Then I heard the wail of the song of the train passing through town. I took comfort in the thought that no matter how bad things can seem to be, they will soon pass. I got up and made coffee and I am sitting here typing as I am hesitant to go back to sleep until the wisps of that dream have dissipated.
I can remember that, as a young boy, I would awaken from pleasant dreams and try to get back to sleep to recapture them. Much later in life, I had dreams that seemed to offer the solution to all the problems I was having but I could never recapture the solution upon awakening. I would forego the memory of this dream.
The mind seems to be the repository of so much happiness and joy from the past. I often sit and smile at the memories I am able to reprise. I don't laugh or scoff but gently smile at the pleasure that those memories bring to me. I must tread more carefully as there is a deep, dark place there also. It is like an old horror movie where someone says to the fool "Whatever you do, don't go down in the cellar!". There are things in the cellar that shouldn't be disturbed and I will have to remember that also. I think that I have only been afraid three times in my life and last night was one of them. I learned previously that the only way to deal with fear was to spit in its face. I don't think that I can muster the courage to do that in the most recent case. To quote Helen Monaughan, "Fear is the mind-killer.".