Outside those of the Yankees and Cardinals, I have to say the Los Angeles Dodgers uniform is one of the smartest, snazziest and most iconic uniforms in all of baseball history. Admiring that crisply clean white jersey hosting an artfully playful blue cursive script and resplendent red digits, it’s hard not to fall in love with its glamor. Throw in the Hollywood factor and it just becomes that much more impressive.
But if we’ve learned anything about the Dodgers in the last year, it’s that looks can be deceiving. The team is in dire financial straits, they’re not playing very well, and to make things worse: they owe Hall of Fame fraud Manny Ramirez over $8 million.
Meanwhile… tall, lean and handsomely square-jawed GOP presidential candidate Mitt Romney looks… great. I mean, dude is Ronnie Reagan 2.0 with more money and better ideas. In fact, if Republicans didn’t know any better, they might think Mitt leans a bit to the left. His liberal domestic policies and urgency to end U.S. participation in the Afghan war against the Taliban are perfect examples.
However, like the L.A. Dodgers, when we actually pull back the curtain on the swaggering Republican politico, we find something a bit… um… awkward:
Hate me, hate me, hate me all day… just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
There are two taxing and equally debilitating activities that I force myself to partake in, every… single… day. I swallow a big@$$ horse-pill that’s supposed to make my cartilage stronger; and I read all of the headlines on The Drudge Report.
If I had time, I would also stick rusty needles under each of my fingernails.
Why do I do these things? I take the horse-pill ‘cuz it comes highly recommended by my doctor, and my doctor is a smart dude (he hates the Cubs, man!).
And I check in with The Drudge Report because it’s important to know what the “other” side is thinking, how they’re scheming, how they’re fear mongering and how they’re faring in other popular GOP pastimes. But mostly I just like to laugh at how Drudge turns a headline like “Wall Street Baffled by Slowing Economy” into “WE ARE ON THE VERGE OF A GREAT, GREAT DEPRESSION”.
Indeed, I tip my cap for his savvy, but I wave my finger at his twisted incitations.
And to put things in perspective, I instructed the RSBS interns to take three recent MLB headlines and hand them over to Matt Drudge, just to see what would happen.
Here’s what we got:
– – –
Original Headline:”White Sox enjoy another sweep at Fenway”
Headline on Drudge: “SHOW ME ALEXEI RAMIREZ’S BIRTH CERTIFICATE DAMMIT!!!”
– – –
Original Headline: “Holliday, McClellan both land on Cards’ DL”
Headline on Drudge: “HOLLIDAY NEVER F$&*ING TOUCHED HOME, HE NEVER TOUCHED IT, HE NEVER TOUCHED IT, I CALL DO-OVER!!!”
– – –
Original Headline: “Swisher’s Swat Solidifes Sweep for Yankees”
Headline on Drudge: “OMG JORGE POSADA SUCKS, THE BRONX IS BURNING AND WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!”
– – –
Hate me ‘cuz I got the connections to make it happen, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right!
My heart is filled with sorrow knowing that Glenn Beck, the insane political entertainment leech that he is, will no longer be employed by the fear-mongering moguls at Fox News. That’s right, dear readers. I, and a collective US America, am in mourning. Please, let us grieve.
Unfortunately, this mutual divorce means no more frog murdering on live television. It means no more psychotic temper tantrums directed towards reason. And yes, sadly, my friends, It means no more *oligarhy*.
But never fear! Glenn Beck is the Washington Nationals of politics! He may be an embarrassment to the establishment, but damn does he make things interesting every once in a while!
In fact, rumor has it, he might even start his own television network!
And just in case he might need some help, the RSBS interns and I got right to work on finding the most appropriate network name. Here’s a short list of what we came up with:
FoSN – The Full of S*** Network
NOGWN – The No One’s Gonna Watch Network
FBC – The Fail Broadcasting Corporation
Can’t wait to see what Mr. Beck finds the most appropriate… though early signs point to NOGWN, mostly ‘cuz I like how it sounds when you try to say it: “Nahg-wahn”.
Hate me. I don’t care. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
People on the same side often find they disagree on the specifics. Let’s take Jeff and his love of the Cardinals. There are plenty of other St. Louis fans out there who will immediately agree with Jeff that the Cardinals are the best and most wonderful team in the history of baseball. However, when Jeff then confesses his undying love for Albert Pujols, one of these guys might tell him to hold up a second because obviously Ozzie Smith is much more loveable than Prince Albert. This will then devolve into a heated discussion on how facial hair should be worn and that will quickly be followed by a fistfight. But they both still love the Cardinals.
What matters is that both sides ultimately coalesce around a common enemy. Although both Jeff and this other Cardinals’ fan truly believe that they are right, and although they may believe that the other person is an idiot for even voicing another opinion out loud, the argument gets easily forgotten when faced with the scourge that is the Chicago Cubs. If there’s one thing they can agree on, despite their insistence on the correct style of facial hair for a true Cardinal, it’s the fact that the Cardinals are much, much, much better than the Cubs. Everything else pales in comparison.
For this same simple reason, I don’t take all that much joy in the current imbroglio within the GOP. Sure, there may be a significant difference in ideology that leads Glenn Beck to think that the US should stand by Mubarak to the bitter end while Bill Kristol believes in supporting democracy even when it turns messy. I’m sure if you sat the two of them down at a table they would argue all day long about who’s right. (On a side note I’m also pretty sure that Kristol would end up punching Beck in the nose because Beck’s absolute inability to apply simple logic in an argument would eventually push Kristol over the edge.)
However, the reason why I take no joy in any of this is because it doesn’t matter. Sure, the two men may fundamentally disagree on a subject that one could claim is the heart and soul of their party’s current identity but ultimately, just like Jeff and the other Cardinals’ fan, they share a more important common enemy. Even if the argument about the fate of Egypt continues indefinitely, both Beck and Kristol will be voting for whoever runs against Obama in 2012.
In some ways, this is the beauty of politics and sports. Despite our disagreements, we can find common ground. In the days following the 2000 election, both sides accused each other of bad faith and cheating. But a year later, the entire country immediately coalesced around President Bush when faced with a much greater common enemy.
Like Jeff or Bill Kristol, I may not agree with many things that my fellow Michiganders believe. But we can still watch the Lions, Tigers or Red Wings together and share a common ground for a short little while. Well, until someone tries to tell me that Billy Sims was better than Barry Sanders, at least. Then it all goes out the window.
Dear readers, I can hardly wait to jump in the car and spend four deadlocked hours sitting on the southbound on I-55 while night falls on my west-central Illinois family as they talk as much s*** about me as they can before I get there. Oh, if only every day could be so special!
We at RSBS don’t ever want to be trite; but hell, it’s Thanksgiving, so we gotta give thanks. Thanks to you (for reading). Thanks to my parents (for making me, even if it was in the backseat of a car at a run down Motel 6 outside of Disneyland). Thanks to the Cardinals (for making me think my team has a chance every year).
That stuff is easy.
But life is much more complex than that, and so too are the abstracts that must be recognized, appreciated and acknowledged.
For example, the picture at the top right of this article. Yes. That is Michael Jackson. And yes. He is chugging some nasty vodka while flanked by two midget groupies. See, he’s not as weird as you thought. Back in the early days, when he was just raising tigers and being best friends with monkeys and sleeping in souped-up tanning beds, he was pretty friggin’ chill.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
On the political tip, where it takes quite a bit of searching to find anything worth my thanks, I am pleased that the new majority leaders are actual
human beings and not blood-sucking money-hungry lobbyist-lovin’ big-business-bailin’-out corporate-drone-piggin’ bible-belt-thumpin out-of-touch neanderthals Americans.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
And, yes, I know we have a long way to go before pitchers and catchers report, but let me just say: I am very thankful that I am a whacked out baseball nut and not married to any of the other sports. Don’t get me wrong, I love football; but I don’t LOOOOOOOOVE football. It’s just not tangible. I respect what they do, but it’s a team sport divided by uncontrollable personalities. Elaborate celebrations in the end zone when your 2-7 team is down by 20 points in the 4th quarter? Taunting your opponent ‘cuz you FINALLY got a first down, after 13 consecutive failures? Spitting in a guy’s face? Please. I’d like to see Brandon Marshall or Vince Young or Albert Haynesworth talk crazy to Mike Scioscia.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
For those of you counting, there’s only 146 more days til Spring Training 2011!
Have a very thankful and reflective holiday. And please, don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
I mean, a lot has happened in the last week or so to warrant plenty of no-limit megafortified soused out partying — the kind of partying Mr. Krause and I used to do back in our… well, yesterday.
But not even our dynamic duo could match the celebratory merits of the state of California in recent days. Let’s review the highlights:
All sounds good, right?
Except that Jenny Oropeza is dead.
On election day!
But if California despises anything it’s gotta be the GOP. And who can blame them? Ronald Reagan, what have you done for me lately? Huh?
The Republicans may have hoodwinked the imbecilic US American consensus with their unparalleled fear-based badgering and faux middle class talking points, but the late Jenny Oropeza’s state senate victory is proof that their diabolic plan is far, far, far from being a reality.
Hate me ‘cuz it hasn’t been banned yet, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
This Going Rogue business is mostly all about making money… right?
If that’s the case, then great; I applaud thee, Sarah Palin. Sell your book! Make money! It’s the US American way!
Unfortunately, reason tells me that ex-Governor Palin has a hard time separating fantasy from reality — that she is absolutely serious when she says she wants to play a major role in American politics — that she isn’t going away anytime soon.
While she remains silent on any possible presidential plans, one must assume that is the ultimate goal.
And that is insane.
So too is her sheepish quip that she will run only “if people will have me.”
Hmm. Perhaps Madame Palin should start by asking the people of Alaska if they will have her after she abandoned them and her gubernatorial post midterm. Or perhaps she should ask the people of Russia if they don’t mind her looking at them from her living room. Or perhaps she should just take the money this book and subsequent tour will generate and run, run, run… back into relative obscurity — where she belongs.
We see this sort of thing in baseball all the time. Players come from out of nowhere. They shine. They burn out. They go away. Some quicker than others.
Mark Fidrych. Pete Incaviglia. Eric Gagne.
Remember, Sarah, remember. Remember Eric Gagne — a man who spent last season with the Quebec Capitales of the independent Canadian-American League. (Yeah, I’ve never heard of it either) Here’s a man who, at one time, was more than just unhittable. He was mad, maniacal, morbid in his destruction of opposing hitters. He recorded 84 consecutive saves for Christ’s sake! He was lights out! He was the master of the universe!
And that is sad.
Go away now, while you can, Mrs. Palin… go back to the wilderness while you still have some inkling of pride. I will support you in that endeavor.
Hate me ‘cuz I won’t buy this book, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.