Ah, interwebs, is there any moment of schadenfreude you can’t provide me with?
Category Archives: Videocracy
Roger That
New Site Update: Them YouTube clips below will totally not work. Not sure who’s to blame, MLB or the Rocket. In either case, this post is provided for historical purposes only.
When I was an MFA student, one of my workshop leaders, a writer of some renown (brag), told me that villains must be understood. Our class was wondering out loud if there could ever be a Great Bush Era Novel. He said that if such a novel were ever written, it couldn’t be an angry screed or political tract.
Even if you were no fan of George W. Bush (which I doubt anyone in the room was), your book couldn’t succeed on blind hatred. You could not portray Bush as a mustache-twirling Snidely Whiplash-type, or an incurious dolt. For such a book to work, he said, you would have to find some way to sympathize with him. Anything less would both fail as fiction and
trivialize an entire administration.
That doesn’t mean pardoning or condoning The Evil That Men Do. But villains in black hats are boring. Gray is much better, if scarier, because it makes us realize that given the right circumstances, virtually anyone can find themselves doing unspeakable things.
I dredge this up in the wake of the Roger Clemens debacle. Anyone who reads this site should know my feelings on the Rocket. I’ve poked him with a stick once or twice. Several times, in fact. In my mental Hall of Infamy, he’s one of a very select group of people I’d like to go away and never see again. If he became a hermit and lived out the rest of his days in a cave somewhere, I wouldn’t shed a tear.
Pointless Nostalgia Pt. 1 – The 1988 TWIB Spring Training Special
New Site Update: Don’t bother clicking on any of them YouTube links below, ‘cuz they ain’t gonna work. This post is here for historic purposes only. I’m hoping to get the non-baseball stuff reposted at some point, but there’s so much stuff to do here that I would not hold my breath.
Update 02.16.07: Deadspin gave a shoutout to this post, which was quite awesome of them. Unfortunately, I think that attention attracted the decidedly unawesome attention of MLB Advanced Media, who sent me a copyright infringement notice via YouTube. I totally understand that we have to respect MLB’s intellectual rights. After all, I wouldn’t want to interfere with the inevitable theatrical release and DVD transfer of a spring training preview from 19-friggin-88. *sigh*
The Wife wants it on record that she said MLB would crack the whip on me. I doubted her. “Why the eff would MLB give two shits about a spring training preview from 19 years ago?” She is less naïve than I, I suppose. Mea culpa.
Long story short, I’m afraid I had to remove said video clips. I’ve left the rest of the post as is so you can imagine the anachronistic hilarity. Also, the old ads are still viewable, as long as no one rats on me to the Gibraltar singer with the White Afro.
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I find the days following a big snowstorm to be worse than the actually event. The roads are a mess and they’re filled with angry, dirty piles of plowed snow. You need a canoe to cross most intersections thanks to the enormous lakes of smashed melted snow that ebb at every street corner. And everyone in the city is really pissed off. Usually, you think a sweaty day is the kind that gets folks all hot and bothered. But climes like this can be just as bad for the collective mood. After you’ve been smashed against a thousand other dripping, angry commuters on the bus and/or train, you’re just as ready to start a fistfight as you’d be during an August heat wave.
No matter. My thoughts are warm, because pitchers and catchers have
started to report to Florida. I’m also told that there are some insane
teams that train in Arizona. I can neither confirm nor deny this.
On Friday, the Mets will be in Port St. Lucie (at least the ones that pitch and catch) and we will be that much closer to Opening Day. An Opening Day when the team will have to watch the 83-win Cardinals get their World Series rings. Hopefully, that will get their blood boiling to set up an ’86-like rampage through the National League. I don’t ask for much from the universe, but can Jose Reyes’ first hit of the year be a line drive off of Albert Pujols’ knee? Or at least Scott Spiezio’s chin-snatch? I thank you in advance, unseen powers.
Continue reading Pointless Nostalgia Pt. 1 – The 1988 TWIB Spring Training Special