Category Archives: Baseball

Bud Selig Knows Drama

I am seriously thinking about expanding the playoffs for next season and adding a wild card play-in game. Because when you have two teams battling for the last postseason berth, that makes for drama, and drama makes for big ratings. That’s why all of TV’s top rated shows are dramas. House. Gray’s Anatomy. The other one. You know, the one with the lawyer? Or lawyers? I dunno, the wife seems to like it.

But I’m not restricting these moves to the postseason. The regular season will have more drama as well. Once a week, we’ll pick a random superstar and mail him a letter taped together from newspaper clippings that says unless he has an absolutely monster game, he’ll never see his family alive again. Think the players will assume we’re bluffing? Would you want to take that chance?

Of course, we expect the same type of threat would lose its effectiveness when used repeatedly. So we’ll have other ones up our sleeve as well. Maybe dangle a player’s first born child over a cliff in an old Buick, just inches away from teetering over the edge. Maybe we’ll set his house ablaze, with the fire department just waiting to put it out as soon as he hits for the cycle. Maybe we’ll hire ninjas. Maybe we already have. Maybe there’s one in Adrian Gonzalez’s apartment right now. Not saying there is, not saying there isn’t.

We plan to roll this program out slowly, in stages, to acclimate players to this new environment. In spring training of 2012, we’ll start by threatening players’ possessions, like their cars and award trophies. Then we’ll work up to more severe things like sending threatening notes to their parents and hacking into their email accounts. By season’s end, each player will think he’s starring in his own personal version of The Game, which is easily the best Michael Douglas movie he ever made.

However, I want reassure everyone that just because we’re going to severely alter the way baseball in played by constantly threatening all that its players hold most dear, that does not mean we have any plans to make any truly drastic adjustments like instituting wider replay. I feel this would irreparably harm one of baseball’s most treasured features, the human factor. We must leave the sport’s most basic decisions up to humans, flawed though they may be. Like, does a player want to see his children eaten by fire ants? If not, maybe he’ll throw a complete game one-hitter.

Frank McCourt Runs Into an Old Flame

Oh, hey Dodgers. Haven’t seen you in forever. Who woulda thought I’d run into you here in Chavez Ravine?…No, I can’t go in for a hug? Alright, a handshake is okay…Or a wave, sure, a wave is fine.

You look great. Really, I mean…wow.

Me? I couch surfed for a while after you kicked me out, stayed with my brother for a bit. Right now I’m rooming with my buddy Mark in Los Feliz. You remember him, right? He does the lighting for I Carly. No? You don’t remember him? He’s an awesome dude. You’d like him.

Yeah, been working out a bit. That’s why I’ve got this bike, trying to stay in shape. The binoculars? Bird watching. I like to bird watch when I, um…when I bike.

Finally working on that screenplay idea, too. Some stuff has really come together in my mind, just really gelled, you know?

God, it’s good to see you. We should get together some time, get some drinks or something. Hey, I know you must be busy since you’re running away, so I’ll leave my new digits with the bat boy, okay?

Company Loves Misery

I went to the Mets’ home opener last Friday and had a good time. Sure, it was drizzling and the temperature hovered around 40 and the Mets played pretty uninspiring baseball. But it was baseball after all, and following a deathless winter that still refuses to unleash its icy grip on New York, being at a baseball game–even in near-Arctic climes–warmed me in a small way.

Not everyone agreed. When the Nationals expanded their lead to four runs late in the game, many spectators left. On a such a day, completely understandable. Those who headed for warmer spots didn’t bug me. The ones who stuck around did.

I’ve always thought of people who show up and stay for days like this are The Die Hards, the ones who will stick with their team through thick and thin. And that is true, to an extent. But in this case, the people who stuck around seemed to do so for the express purpose of voicing their discontent. And not in a Peter Finch “I’m mad as hell” way. More like someone ahead of you on line at the post office, who feels compelled to sigh loudly and mutter “unbelievable!”, just so everyone else queuing up knows how annoyed he is. The air was thick with a positively DMV-esque atmosphere.

We spent the last inning at field level, watching the action from behind the best seats in the house. Even for a crummy game on a crummy day, being that close to Actual Baseball Playing by Actual Major Leaguers is pretty great. On TV, every pitch looks hittable and every hit routine, but in close proximity, you realize that you are really witnessing the best of the best. Even the worst person on any roster is better than 99.99 percent of the population at what he does. It’s awesome to contemplate.

Unless you were the gentleman standing just behind me. Because with each pitch, he let out an anguished mantra: SAME OLD, SAME OLD! The message was obviously meant to be,”The Mets suck again, don’t they?” This is seven games into the season, mind you. But just in case you were unsure about how much he believed this, he repeated it literally with every pitch, as if it were a phrase he himself popularized. Larry The Cable Guy does not say Git ‘er done! with as much gusto as this man invested into SAME OLD, SAME OLD!

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