An elementary school in Colorado Springs, Colo., has banned tag.
Seems that some kids at Discovery Canyon Campus school complained that they were being chased against their will on the playground.
My, my. We certainly can’t have that, now can we?
Assistant principal Cindy Fesgen said tag “causes a lot of conflict on the playground.”
Apparently, assistant principal Cindy Fesgen doesn’t realize that when these kids grow up, they will encounter other kinds of conflict, such as traffic jams, restaurants with poor service and sports teams that lose even though you root fervently for them.
Fortunately, the folks who run Discovery Canyon Campus school haven’t turned the entire operation into a Wimp Factory. For example, running games are still allowed on the playground … as long as the kiddos don’t chase each other!
I don’t know about you, but my confidence in America’s future has just headed south. Let us all hope that some good news somewhere will provide an uptick.
If it does, I’ll blog about it.
Until then, we trust that the lads and lassies and Discovery Canyon Campus school continue to enjoy conflict-free recreational opportunities in an ecologically friendly setting that encourages mutually supportive and affirmative interactions.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Further proof that times really have changed, and not for the better
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Danger? What danger? Oh, you mean that danger.
Jim Woolford, a police major in Pontiac, Ill., must be an optimistic guy. Heck, I bet when he wakes up in the morning, he thinks he might win the lottery or discover gold in the back yard.
How else could you explain his statement Tuesday, after six guns were sized from the local high school and three people were arrested:
“At no time was any child in danger.”
Uh, Jim, not to split hairs or anything, but any time six — count ’em, six! — guns are found in a school, I’m thinking we've got a problem. In fact, I’m thinking it’s the kind of problem that, well, puts a child in danger.
In fact, Woolford himself also said, “Early this morning we received information ... that there may be weapons at the high school and it was indicated that there were threats the weapons could be used.”
The situation was so dire that the school was locked down. As in nobody goes in or out until the cops knew what they were dealing with.
Again, all that brings the ol’ D word — danger — right back into play.
Fortunately, no one was hurt at the school.
But if I’m a parent, and I learn that my kid is in a school with a mini-arsenal, I believe I will go ahead and skip all the interim steps and proceed immediately to worry … about danger.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Thank God for small favors, No. 3,749
A judge in Los Angeles has extended his restraining order preventing a Texas doctor from selling a 1994 videotape that shows the breast enlargement surgery of Anna Nicole Smith.
Friday, August 24, 2007
The inconvenienced astro-nut
Reason No. 67 as to why you might not want to break the law:
You might have to wear an ankle bracelet if you’re released on bond, and it’s a real pain in the, uh, ankle.
Literally. And don’t take my word for it, ’cause I’ve never been busted. Go directly to a very good source — former astronaut Lisa Nowak.
On Friday, Nowak asked a Florida judge to let her give back the electronic monitoring ankle bracelet so graciously loaned to her by the Orlando, Fla., probation folks.
This piece of judicial jewelry helps police keep track of where Nowak is, and where she shouldn’t be — like trying to eliminate the third party in a love triangle, which of course led to her current predicament and put the “former” in former astronaut.
Anyhoo, Nowak says the bracelet is no day at the beach. She claims she can’t wear it in public places because she is embarrassed that it might go off. Can’t get it wet. Says it’s bulky and uncomfortable. Interferes with her military boots. (She’s still a Navy pilot, though I personally wouldn’t let her take up a fighter loaded with surface-to-air missiles for a little spin around the Eastern Time Zone. But that’s just me.)
On top of everything, Nowak says the darned thing costs too much. She has to pay Orlando authorities weekly rent of $105. (Can’t they work out a monthly rate?) And she has to change the batteries every 12-15 hours. That schedule would make even the Energizer Bunny tired.
Whatever. Circuit Court Judge Marc L. Lubet will digest all this and make a Solomon-like decision soon.
Maybe he should ask the former astronaut this: “Lisa, darling, would you like to continue wearing this unpleasant little device … or get thrown back in the slammer until your trial?”
If the former astronaut had those choices, she might figure out that the ankle ornament isn’t that bad after all.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Michael Vick clears the record
ATLANTA — In view of, er, certain legal developments, the Public Relations Department at Bad Newz Kennels would like to issue the following clarifications regarding comments by and about our beloved CEO, Michael Vick, and those unfortunate charges of dogfighting:
In July, NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell told SI.com that Mr. Vick said to him, “His comments to me were very consistent with what he said publicly: That he does not have any involvement in dogfighting, that he loves dogs, that he would not have any interest in that, that it wasn’t happening at his property. … ”
What Mr. Vick actually meant to tell the commissioner was that he did not have any involvement in dogfighting “except for the times when he was deeply and enthusiastically involved in dogfighting.”
Also, instead of saying “he loves dogs,” Mr. Vick meant to say “he loves dogs when they are disemboweling one another in a really good fight.”
Mr. Vick regrets if the commissioner misunderstood him on these points.
Also, in an interview with radio station WVEE-FM in July, Mr. Vick said, “I’ve learned a lot through this situation. I know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel."
What Mr. Vick really meant to say was that he has learned a lot about masterminding criminal enterprises. For example, he now knows it's a real good idea to maintain six degrees of separation between him and any thugs on the lower end.
Also, Mr. Vick now believes that the “light at the end of the tunnel” will be visible in three to five years, depending on time off for good behavior.
Finally, on the day he was indicted, Mr. Vick said “I look forward to clearing my good name. …”
What Mr. Vick actually meant was that he looked forward to clearing his cell of his personal belongings on the day when he is released from prison.
Mr. Vick also wishes to announce a clearance sale on his stock of No. 7 jerseys and his bobblehead figurines. And due to popular demand, “Free Michael!” bumper stickers are now available.
Finally, Mr. Vick is asking his fans to stop calling his telephone number and leaving a recording of “Who Let The Dogs Out?” Or asking him how it feels “to be hounded” by these charges. Or asking whether he will be doing any more personal appearances with McGruff The Crime Dog.
Mr. Vick says those things are not funny any more.
Further inquiries to Mr. Vick may be directed to the Federal Bureau of Prisons.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Dean, Dean go away!
I hate it. I hate the whole drama of:
1) Is it going to hit us?
2) Should I stay or go?
3) If I stay, will I have power or water?
4) If I go, where will I go?
And on and on.
Hurricanes are lousy. We all knew that in general before Rita — and maybe other storms, depending on your age/history. Now it’s personal.
The only good thing you can say about hurricanes is that within a day or so, you know they’re coming. I guess earthquakes and volcanoes are worse.
Still, hurricanes stink.
Dean needs to keep bearing west and make landfall where there’s lots of sand and not many people.
I’m praying for it. We got hit once. That should be enough for any person, place or thing.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Suing the I-man
If Kia Vaughn is as concerned about her reputation as she claims, she will drop her silly lawsuit against Don Imus.
Vaughn is a member of the Rutgers University women’s basketball team, the group notoriously maligned by Imus as “nappy headed ho’s.”
That was of course, a stupid and nasty comment. Imus was properly fired for that slur — though like Marv Albert and many other “disgraced” broadcasters, his time on the bench was not long. Already the “I-man” is plotting his comeback.
(Does the “I” stand for “idiot” there? It should.)
Anyhow, Vaughn has filed a defamation of character lawsuit against Imus. Says Imus and his buddies damaged her reputation.
As her lawyer put it, "This is about Kia Vaughn’s good name. She would do anything to return to her life as a student and respected basketball player — a more simple life before Imus opened his mouth."
Now I’m not an attorney, but I see a few problems here about the size of Mount Everest:
Namely, who on this planet thinks less of Vaughn because of what some moronic shock-jock said?
For that matter, who outside of her family and friends knew she was one of the gals insulted by Imus?
And why have no other Rutgers players filed similar lawsuits?
If Vaughn wants to show that clown and the rest of the world that she is the classy lady she claims to be, she will forget Imus and go on to lead a terrific life.
In trying to squeeze some money out of a deep pocket on flimsy grounds, Vaughn is harming her reputation more than Imus could.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Vick is sacked -- for good
The game is over for Michael Vick, and I ain’t talking about football.
Vick’s two remaining co-defendants have scheduled hearings this week to enter plea agreements.
In plain English, that means that these two, uh, gentlemen also have blindsided the Falcons QB.
They are about to plead guilty and start singing like canaries. The other co-defendant copped a plea before the ink was dry on the indictment.
This leaves little ol’ No. 7 standing out there all by himself, still pretending that the charges about an interstate dog fighting ring are a big misunderstanding.
Unless you believe in the Tooth Fairy, or think that Barry Bonds didn’t take steroids, you have to know what this means.
Michael Vick is going to prison.
His chances of beating this rap have just gone from slim to almost none.
Even if he keeps fighting -- and spending money on lawyers -- he will go to trial with ALL THREE of his co-defendants taking the stand to say, yes, everything the prosecutor says is true.
Unless Vick can get a jury made up of his relatives or teammates, he’s done.
In fact, he is so done that his only recourse is to plead guilty too.
If he’s lucky, he’ll get a year or 18 months. And he might play football again in the NFL.
If he wants to roll the dice and hope for acquittal, he’s dreaming.
He faces up to six years right now — and this is the federal system, with no parole. Oh, did I mention that state charges could follow?
It’s time to punt, Michael.
Look on the bright side: You have just made yourself a lot more marketable for the third version of that prison-football flick “The Longest Yard.”
Friday, August 10, 2007
Nagin strikes again
To: New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin
From: Me
Re: That sensitivity thing
Your honor, I think we have a slight problem — again.
Yesterday you were quoted as saying that the city’s continuing problems with crime and murders were “not good for us, but it also keeps the New Orleans brand out there. … ”
Then, apparently channeling the spirit of the Charles Bronson character in “Death Wish,” you said about some of the murder victims, “Some of these guys are so violent that it is hard for witnesses to come forward. … So it is unfortunate that they had to die, but it did kind of end the cycle that we were struggling with.”
Uh, Mr. Mayor — may I call you Ray? — I’m not sure you’re aiding the rebirth of the Crescent City as much as you could.
In fact, by my rough tally, you’re hurtin’ about as much as you are helpin’.
And seeing as you will be in office until 2010 — Lord, that seems like a long time away — you might want to try a different strategy.
Like shutting up. And doing something constructive for a change.
Just a thought.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Thank God for small favors, No. 3,748
A judge in Los Angeles has issued a temporary restraining order to prevent a Texas doctor from selling a 1994 videotape that shows the breast enlargement surgery of Anna Nicole Smith.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Packing it in
Adam “Pacman” Jones has found something to do while he is suspended from the NFL.
As you may recall, the talented but troubled cornerback for the Tennessee Titans has been arrested five times and been involved in 11 police investigations since he was drafted in April 2005.
That is a record for any NFL player who isn’t a Cincinnati Bengal. The latest incident, and it is hard to keep track of them, involves felony charges following a shooting at a Las Vegas strip club that left a bouncer paralyzed.
Anyhow, back to Pacman’s latest passion. He wants to become a professional wrestler, with Total Nonstop Action.
Reluctant as we all are to questions a guy’s career choice, this one seems shaky.
Pro wrestlers are big, beefy guys who slam each other around the ring. Sometimes out of it.
Pacman is listed at 5’10” and 187 pounds. That’s not small by average standards. By wrestling standards, it is.
If you’re a football player who needs to stay healthy, pro wrestling seems like a good way to become a former football player.
If Pacman goes ahead and climbs into the ring with these hulks, he is going to need a new nickname. Some thoughts:
1) Squished-Flat Man.
2) Smacked Man.
3) Piñata Man.
4) What Were You Thinking, Man?
5) The Guy Who Used To Be An NFL Cornerback But Blew It Because He Is Incredibly Stupid and Self-Destructive.
Friday, August 03, 2007
17 is enough; actually, it's too much
A big family is one thing. A small town is another. I think Jim Bob and Michelle Duggars in Arkansas should retire from the baby business.
You see, they just had their 17th child.
Mom said, “We’d love to have more. We love the ruffles and lace.” Why not? the couple has “only” seven girls as compared to 10 boys. They range in age from 19 to 2, not counting the newest infant.
“We are just so grateful to God for another gift from Him,” said Daddy Duggar. That’s nice, Jim Bob. Why don’t you start counting (and enjoying) those blessings — and stop creating more of them?
By the way, don’t you just love that name, Jim Bob? And the name of the little burg they live in, Tontitown?
Their Web site proudly quotes Psalm 127:3, “Children are a heritage of the Lord.”
They are indeed, Jim Bob. You’ve had your share, and then some.
There are some warning signs to let you know when you have too many children. I think No. 17 is, “You are your own zip code.”
Thursday, August 02, 2007
7 on 7
Michael Vick is still maintaining his innocence regarding the dogfighting charges filed against him in federal court.
No problem. One of the great things about our country is that a defendant is presumed innocent until a judge or jury says otherwise.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, one of Vick’s three co-defendants has taken a different approach to the charges hanging over him.
He has pleaded guilty and agreed to cooperate with prosecutors.
This development in the case makes seven things more likely for No. 7:
1) His chances of going to prison have increased about seven-fold.
2) The odds against him playing again in the NFL have jumped to 7-1.
3) Seven doesn’t seem like a lucky number anymore.
4) If another co-defendant also flips for prosecutors, his chances of going to prison will increase about seventy-fold.
5) His legal bills are likely to end up in seven figures.
6) The number of people with IQs larger than their shoe size who sincerely believe this whole thing is a giant mix-up has dwindled to seven.
7) Instead of being known as No. 7, he is more likely to be known as No. 73186.
Good luck, Michael. You are going to need it.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Tom Snyder
I don’t watch much TV these days unless it involves a bunch of overpaid men and a football or baseball. But long ago, I watched a ton of Tom Snyder.
Not many people will admit that. First, it shows how old you are. Second, Snyder was thought of as kind of a goofball.
Not funny goofball like David Letterman or Stephen Colbert. More like a goofball who doesn’t get it.
And he didn’t, to some extent. But that was part of his appeal.
Still, for its time, “The Tomorrow Show” could be entertaining. It was one of the first talk shows that appealed to night owls. His guests ranged from rock stars to politicians — and weren’t the kind of usual suspects you see on a lot of shows today.
And of course there was Tom. He smoked. He had a big hunk of hair combed sideways. He waved his long fingers in front of his face. He said stuff to guys off-camera. He had that booming laugh and verbal tics that identified him like his fingerprints.
As such, he was easy for comics like Dan Aykroyd to mimic, But then, so was the great Johnny Carson.
“The Tomorrow Show” lasted for nine years, from ’73 to ’82. That’s actually a long time in TV terms.
In the late ’90s, he came back for three years with “The Late Late Show.” It was OK, but it didn’t have the magic of “The Tomorrow Show” in its heyday.
Snyder’s death this week unleashed a surprising flood of nostalgia. But the more you think about him and his show, he deserved better.
He was fun and funny. If he was angry or emotional, he didn’t try to hide it. He was more of an average guy than a star, and that was endearing.
He was the kind of host who made his guests comfortable and let them talk. And that is the goal of a talk show, to let folks like us listen to an author or an astronaut as if we were in a living room with him.
Sleep well, Tom. You sent a lot of people to snoozeland after your shows. Now it’s your turn.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Name game
As expected, Bernard Hopkins outpointed Ronald Wright in their light-heavyweight bout last weekend in Las Vegas. Even though Hopkins was 42 and — like most older fighters — had come out of retirement, he had Wright on the defensive the whole 10 rounds.
I wasn’t surprised. You see, Wright’s nickname is “Winky.” A boxer with a nickname like that is never going to go far. Especially against a pugilist nicknamed "The Executioner."
In fact, that’s a problem these days — lousy nicknames for boxers. Need I mention Eric “Butterbean” Esch. What’s he supposed to do, smother you in gravy?
Back in the day, it wasn’t like this. Fighters had fearsome names, and you thought twice about climbing into the ring with them.
I’m talking Larry “The Easton Assassin” Holmes, James “Bonecrusher” Smith and John "The Beast” Mugabi.
Then there’s the greatest boxing nickname of all time, Carl “The Truth” Williams.
I just hope Osama bin Laden isn’t sitting in a cave somewhere in north Pakistan thumbing through the sports pages and saying, “Look, Abdul, the Americans have a fighter named ‘Jerry “Wimpy” Halstead.’ Let’s launch another attack on these weakling infidels.”
Just once, I like to see Osama get leveled by Mitch “Blood” Green. Then he’d know we weren’t a country to be trifled with.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Good commish, bad commish
You can call this the tale of the two sports commissioners. One made a good call, one dropped the ball.
Commissioner A, otherwise known the NFL’s Roger Goodell, has reacted well since the words “Michael Vick” and “dogfighting” started appearing in the same sentence.
On Monday Goodell told Vick to stay away from the Atlanta Falcons’ training camp, at least for the time being. Goodell correctly noted that while the judicial system will judge Vick’s guilt or innocence, the NFL has different standards.
Goodell wants to determine if Vick’s conduct, even if it wasn’t criminal, violated the league’s personal conduct policies. Vick will keep drawing his salary, which is fair too.
Right on, Roger. I think Vick should be allowed to play this season — unless he pleads out, which might become more likely as this case approaches trial. If Vick is guilty, he needs to face up to that reality and cut the best deal he can get to resume his career and life ASAP.
For now, however, a little sit-down from the NFL is in order. Goodell’s action also prevents the Falcons from suspending Vick for four games, which was the team’s intentions. That would be rash, given that Vick hasn’t even been arraigned yet. (That happens Thursday.)
Goodell’s counterpart in Major League Baseball hasn’t been so smart this week.
Bud Selig surprised — and disappointed — a lot of people by announcing that he will tag along until Barry Bonds breaks Henry Aaron’s home run record.
“Out of respect for the tradition of this game, the magnitude of the record, and the fact that all citizens in this country are innocent until proven guilty, I will attend Barry Bonds’ next games to observe his potential tying and breaking of the home run record, subject to my commitments to the Hall of Fame this weekend,” Selig said in a statement today.
Uh, Bud, if you really want to respect the tradition of the game, you’d tell BALCO Barry to buzz off. As commissioner, you don’t have to follow that innocent-until-proven-guilty line off a cliff. You still have discretion and common sense — or at least I thought you did.
If so, you would have released the following statement:
“Even though Barry Bonds has not been convicted of using performance-enhancing drugs, there is a mountain of circumstantial and anecdotal evidence that indicates he did. It is impossible to ignore this evidence and pretend that this is just another record-breaking event. As long as this suspicion hangs over Bonds, I will neither support him or criticize him in public — or appear in the same stadium with him.”
Hank Aaron is making sure that he will be elsewhere when No. 756 clears the wall. Selig should have sided with his old friend from the Milwaukee Braves days on this one.
Friday, July 20, 2007
You go, goddess
Normally, I’m a by-the-book guy. But every now and then, you have to cut somebody some slack. That’s why I’m applauding the Nepalese authorities who have agreed to review their decision to strip a 10-year-old girl of her title of “living goddess” by breaking tradition and traveling overseas.
As you’ve heard a thousand times by now, Sajani Shakya journeyed to the United States last month to promote a documentary about, well, the centuries-old tradition of Nepal’s living goddesses.
What the heck did you think she would promote, the benefits of throwing a curve ball in the dirt when you’re ahead in the count? For gosh sakes, she’s a living goddess in Nepal, and she’s only 10!
Anyhow, that’s a no-no in Nepal. If you’re a living goddess, you can’t leave the country — even though I personally would think that a living goddess could do anything she darned well pleased. Hey, what part of “living goddess” don’t you get?
Fortunately, cooler heads may prevail in the mile-high kingdom scrinched between India and China.
Jaiprasad Regmi, chief of the government trust that oversees the living goddesses, was quoted by the Associated Press as saying, “We are consulting with elders, priests and culture experts on whether it was appropriate for the living goddess to break tradition and leave on a trip.”
Right on, Mr. Regmi!
I’m sure that being a living goddess is fun and all that, but sometimes you want a break from the same old same old. And as you well know, being a living goddess is not a piece of cake.
Again I refer you to the Associated Press:
“Living goddesses are worshipped by both Hindus and Buddhists. The girls are selected between the ages of 2 and 4 after going through several tests.
“They are required to have perfect skin, hair, eyes and teeth, and should not be afraid of the dark. They wear red, pin up their hair in topknots and have a ‘third eye’ painted on their forehead.
“Devotees touch the girls’ feet with their foreheads, the highest sign of respect among Hindus in Nepal.”
I don’t know about you, but after being worshipped endlessly, I think I’d want a change of scenery.
Apparently, the head honchos in Nepal are thinking of restoring Sajani’s title because thousands of her followers were cheesed off. Who says you can’t fight City Hall anymore?
Why can't we just pretend the whole thing never happened?
Look, living goddesses have to relinquish their titles anyway when they reach puberty. It’s tough being told you’re over the hill when you’re 12.
Let’s not give the girl any more grief.
… Now if you want to pass around a petition asking Queen Elizabeth to step down, count me in.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Mike's mess
To: Michael Vick
From: Me
Subject: That unfortunate federal indictment for dogfighting that just landed on you like a 300-pound lineman who slipped a block.
Message: Mike, you’d better hope that this is one biiiggg misunderstanding. If it’s not, you have just done one of the dumbest things by a professional athlete since Ricky Williams walked away from the Dolphins.
On paper, you’re innocent until proven guilty and all that, but I gotta tell you, this one looks bad.
I read the recent Sports Illustrated cover story on the dogfighting operation in Virginia that you just happened to own. Then I read the news stories on the indictment handed down to you and three other guys. If I were you, I think I’d have trouble drifting off to sleep at night.
The indictment goes into great deal about the alleged dogfighting scheme — how you supposedly bought the property in 2001, set up a kennel for pit bulls and then went about acquiring all the odds and ends needed to train fighting dogs and prepare the property for nighttime events.
The indictment even lists the names of some of your dogs — “Seal,” “Maniac” and “Zebro.” (I guess a fella wouldn’t name a crazed fighting beast something like “Rover” or “Spot.”)
With all that detail, it sounds to me like somebody on the inside rolled over and is about to testify against you, but maybe I’ve been watching too many episodes of “Law and Order.” (By the way, whatever happened to that Fred Thompson guy who used to play the D.A. on that show?)
The Web site for two of your companies, Mike Vick K-9 Kennels and MV7 Inc. (your initials and jersey number) described the dogs as “family pets.”
“We do not promote, support or raise dogs for fighting, “ the Web site said before being mysteriously taken down, “and will not knowingly sell, give or trade any dog that may be used for fighting.”
Let’s hope so, Mike. Meanwhile, I have five words of advice for you:
Get a good defense lawyer.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Paper chase
One of the many important functions of this blog (insert your own joke here) is to point out that some things are not a good idea even though lots of really smart people are telling you it is a good idea.
Exhibit A this time would be an automatic toilet-paper dispenser.
According to the Associated Press, “A year in the works, the electronic tissue dispenser is being rolled out to the masses by Kimberly-Clark Professional as it seeks to capture more of the $1 billion away-from-home toilet paper market. The company believes most people will be satisfied with five sheets — and use 20 percent less toilet paper.”
Several thoughts immediately come to mind:
1) What on earth is the “away-from-home toilet paper market”?
2) Why does Kimberly-Clark believe that “most people will be satisfied with five sheets”? On second thought, I don’t want to know.
3) And, from a factoid later in the article, why do “Americans typically use twice as much toilet paper as Europeans”?
I don’t know about you, but I am not flushed with excitement over this news.
It is slightly encouraging to know that this fancy electronic toilet paper dispenser has some fallbacks.
It has an emergency feed button. It also has a manual feed roller. Some models will even have a “rescue roll” on one side of the machine.
That, I believe, is the way God intended us to use toilet paper. Simple, non-electronic and effective.
The prospect of being trapped in a toilet stall and frantically waving your hands under the motion sensor trying to get a few lousy sheets of paper is not something I am looking forward to.
I’m sure that back in the good ol’ days, some codger grumbled that the upshift from corncobs to the Sears catalogue in the outhouse was an questionable interface for the new platform.
All I know is that if you combine Murphy’s Law with Montezuma’s Revenge, you are in what the first President Bush used to call deep doo-doo.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Bye-bye, Barry
Finally, it is over — and I’ve never said that before about a baseball all-star game, even when the contests weren’t that riveting. (And they usually aren’t.)
This year’s was tough to take because it turned into a Barryfest. First the jerk makes the starting lineup with a last-minute surge of votes. Huh? The guy is booed like Osama bin Laden in every visiting park he plays. The Bay area must be more populous than I thought.
And of course it was in San Fran, and Barry totally piggybacked on the location this year. If you’re talkin’ baseball in San Francisco, it was Willie Mays back then and Balco Barry now. He gets to slide into the spotlight and act like he belongs there.
If the all-star game had been in Cincinnati or Seattle, all that nonsense about Barry being worshipped as “the game’s greatest hitter” would have been squelched. Instead, fans would be talking about what they should be talking about:
Will he be indicted for perjury and/or tax evasion. … Will Bud Selig summon up the gumption to be somewhere else when No. 756 is hit? … Wouldn’t you love to see him drilled in the ribs by a fastball just on general principles?
Whatever. It’s over, and thank God he didn’t hit one into McCovey Cove. He went 0-2. The only thing that would have been better was if he had made an error or struck out swinging wildly.
But I won’t be greedy. It’s enough that he wasn’t the “hero” of this game. It’s done, and now he is headed to another third-place finish on a team that can’t win precisely because it has this highly paid slugger who drives off other talent (like Jeff Kent) with his ego and his insults.
On the other hand, it’s back to the dreaded countdown to 756. Wake me when it’s over. Meanwhile, I’m cheering for the grand jury in San Francisco.
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