Politics is the new Baseball
Both Asher and Sarah went down for naps this morning, and I finally had time to crack open the New Yorker that came while we were on vacation.
I passed over all the commentary on Katrina.
I ignored the article on Justice Kennedy.
I blew off the arts reviews.
And I read a wonderful Rickey Henderson profile.
Rickey Henderson was a giant of my youth - a brash and talented baseball player that, along with a few others like Nolan Ryan, George Brett, and Mike Schmidt, lorded like royalty over major league baseball.
Rickey was one of the few American Leaguers with whom I could identify. His claim to fame was not a fastball or a 500 foot home run. It was the stolen base. And I could dig that, being a die-hard fan of the National League St. Louis Cardinals - known as Whitey's rug burners in the early Eighties, for their manager Whitey Herzog and the team's penchant for eeking out runs with walks, singles and daring speed. Whitey, by the way, regularly graced the covers of both Sports Illustrated and fishing magazines.
In 1981 or so, Rickey stole 130 bases for the Oakland A's, shattering the major league record previously held by the old Cardinal Lou Brock.
Today, Rickey is 46-years-old, and playing in a semi-pro league down in southern California. His hip pains him, his bat is no longer quick enough, and the spring has gone out of his legs. He says all he wants to do is get back to the major leagues, come off the bench for an inning or two, and then retire a major leaguer. The man's not poor - while playing for the A's and the Yankees he made tens of millions. He owns property all over the country. Rickey doesn't want money. He wants redemption.
The profile made me feel sad, but also proud of this guy for not giving up the ghost.
It also made me feel nostalgic for the days when I ate, slept and breathed baseball. At one point in the early Eighties, I could tell you the starting lineup of every team that won the world series, dating back to the Cubs' last victory in 1908.
Today, that headspace is taken up by politics. And I've often thought how similar the two are. Now, instead of the name of the umpire who blew the call against the Cardinals in the 1985 World Series, I can tell you all about the Democratic challenger is in the Illinois 16th district congressional race. I can no longer remember who Nolan Ryan fanned to get his 300th win, but I'm crazy conversant in the chances of Conrad Burns in Montana's '06 Senate race.
Both Asher and Sarah went down for naps this morning, and I finally had time to crack open the New Yorker that came while we were on vacation.
I passed over all the commentary on Katrina.
I ignored the article on Justice Kennedy.
I blew off the arts reviews.
And I read a wonderful Rickey Henderson profile.
Rickey Henderson was a giant of my youth - a brash and talented baseball player that, along with a few others like Nolan Ryan, George Brett, and Mike Schmidt, lorded like royalty over major league baseball.
Rickey was one of the few American Leaguers with whom I could identify. His claim to fame was not a fastball or a 500 foot home run. It was the stolen base. And I could dig that, being a die-hard fan of the National League St. Louis Cardinals - known as Whitey's rug burners in the early Eighties, for their manager Whitey Herzog and the team's penchant for eeking out runs with walks, singles and daring speed. Whitey, by the way, regularly graced the covers of both Sports Illustrated and fishing magazines.
In 1981 or so, Rickey stole 130 bases for the Oakland A's, shattering the major league record previously held by the old Cardinal Lou Brock.
Today, Rickey is 46-years-old, and playing in a semi-pro league down in southern California. His hip pains him, his bat is no longer quick enough, and the spring has gone out of his legs. He says all he wants to do is get back to the major leagues, come off the bench for an inning or two, and then retire a major leaguer. The man's not poor - while playing for the A's and the Yankees he made tens of millions. He owns property all over the country. Rickey doesn't want money. He wants redemption.
The profile made me feel sad, but also proud of this guy for not giving up the ghost.
It also made me feel nostalgic for the days when I ate, slept and breathed baseball. At one point in the early Eighties, I could tell you the starting lineup of every team that won the world series, dating back to the Cubs' last victory in 1908.
Today, that headspace is taken up by politics. And I've often thought how similar the two are. Now, instead of the name of the umpire who blew the call against the Cardinals in the 1985 World Series, I can tell you all about the Democratic challenger is in the Illinois 16th district congressional race. I can no longer remember who Nolan Ryan fanned to get his 300th win, but I'm crazy conversant in the chances of Conrad Burns in Montana's '06 Senate race.
posted by isaacjosephson at 9:41 AM
3 Comments:
Politics may be the new baseball. But, of course, NASCAR is the new politics. Drive around really, really fast in the same direction until you either crash and burn or...stop. Either way, you've consumed a lot of petroleum products.
the funny thing about that is just this morning I was looking at MLB.com at stats and checking out stolen bases. Did you know Vince Coleman is something like number 7 on the all time stolen base list? oh ya, and back in the late 1800 someone stole 138, Ricky never broke that record. His 130 is second on the list.
And your analogy...simply means that politics is just another game to play
I believe Vince Coleman holds the record for stolen bases by a rookie, right? Something like 110 in 1985. Too bad he never hit over .275.
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