Hall voters set to deny McGwire
The hypocrisy of baseball writers knows fewer and fewer limits with the passing of time. Modern scribes had their suspicions that Mark McGwire was using steroids in 1998 during the time he was clubbing a record-70 home runs in a single season. They knew
definitively that he had used the over-the-counter performance-enhancement drug, Androstenedione. Yet they praised him wildly, and loudly, and in many cases, quite lucratively.
Nor was there an avalanche of fury by sportswriters in 1998 that baseball players were not being subject to steroid testing. The sport would not have an agreement with its players union to ban steroids until after the 2002 season. McGwire retired in 2001.
Even in the immediate aftermath of the sham Congressional hearings in 2005-- at which the retired McGwire pronounced before the assembled charlatans that "he was not there to talk about the past"-- a full 56 percent of 117 Hall of Fame voting writers polled said they would vote for McGwire's enshrinement. Less than two years, but thousands of column inches later, that percentage has perplexingly dropped to 20 percent.
One New York writer says he was approached by veteran Hall of Famers while in Cooperstown, and asked that he "protect" the integrity of the Hall by turning out the steroid cheats, rumored or otherwise, and that he intends to honor those requests. It's unknown whether these unidentified Hall of Famers were among the early amphetamine abusers of the game in the late 1950s and 1960s, or if it was Bob Feller, who passed the Hall's "character" threshold long before he shared with the world in 2005 his belief that Carribean players "don't know the rules of the game."
The biggest cowards in the pressbox, though, are the ones who have attempted to skirt the entire issue by claiming that McGwire's career statistics-- even without the specter of steroids-- wouldn't warrant his enshrinement. This, despite 583 career home runs (7th on the all-time list,) seven 100-RBI seasons, a higher slugging percentage than Joe DiMaggio, and the fewest at-bats per home run in history (10.61, better than even Babe Ruth's long-standing record of 11.76.)
They claim that McGwire's numbers ballooned late in the so-called "steroid era," despite the fact that the red-headed slugger owns the majors' rookie home run record with 49 in 1987, and that he hit a total of 153 long balls in his first 4 seasons. Indeed, McGwire very possibly would have hit even more homers in his early days but not for having to play his home games in Oakland's cavernous Coliseum. In those first four full years, he hit just 59 of those 153 home runs at home.
Members of the Baseball Writers Association get off on playing God. That's the real reason we're seeing them change their own tunes now on McGwire's Hall candidacy. They just need to get that first foot in the door. First, by rejecting Pete Rose so publicly (despite not being allowed to vote for him in any case,) and then by sticking it to an entire generation of sluggers (and you watch, eventually, pitchers,) they get to make themselves the story. They get to stand and be counted as part of the great, sweeping epic of the game, even though they carry neither glove nor bat, and are forced to live out their failed athletic dreams by proxy through the chronicling of the great talents who earn 20 to 30 times their salary.
Soon-- with McGwire, "Shoeless" Joe Jackson, Pete Rose, Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, and others denied admission, there'll be a better assembled ballclub banned from the Hall than enshrined within.
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Moeller TV Fest Countdown (10 days)- This Day in TV History: On November 29th, 2001, Spanish-language talk show host Cristina Saralegui decides to leave her daily talk show "El Show de Cristina" after a 12 year run on the U.S. Spanish-language network Univision. Earlier in the year, Saralegui had inaugerated Blue Dolphin Studios, becoming only the fourth woman in film or television history-- behind Mary Pickford, Lucille Ball, and Oprah Winfrey-- to own her own production facilities. She subsequently moved her show to prime-time in a weekly format for Univision.
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Quote of the day: Sportscaster Brent Musburger, when it became clear that USC would beat Notre Dame on Saturday, becoming the likeliest team to play Ohio State for the national championship in Arizona:
"The road to Glendale, Arizona is paved with Trojans."
TV Fest Countdown- 11/28/06
Moeller TV Fest Countdown (11 days)- This Day in TV History: On November 28th, 1972, film actress Shelly Winters shot and killed Carl Switzer, one of the original "Little Rascals," on the Dick Cavett Show.
Meditate on this, bitches
I spent a charming day and night in Fairfield, Iowa on Friday. A birthday getaway for a friend allowed a first chance to see-- in-depth-- the small-town Midwestern home of the Maharishi University of Management.
I suspect that an elapsed quarter century of co-habitation in Fairfield between the longer-residenced Western religion adherents and assorted heretics, and the more recently arrived "Eastern mystics" has not erased all of the cultural cleavages that one might have expected to have developed initially, but the current product of township is one hell of a nice place to visit. (About one-quarter of the village's 10,000 residents are meditators.)
I had driven through Fairfield numerous times en route from Des Moines to St. Louis, and had witnessed the town's "turn-of-the-previous-century" town square and the unusual concentration of vegetarian restaurants from along the main thoroughfare, but a longer inspection, as is always the case, revealed surprises and much intrigue. The university is located on the northern part of town, and just beyond that border by a mile or two is Maharishi Sthapatya Vedic City, which has the look of one of those upscale housing developments whose leadership board wouldn't cut you much slack if you decided to let a family of goats take over the property lawn maintenance.
In Vedic City, all of the homes have trim ornamental fences, and steeples atop. Each and every building faces east because the Maharishi believes that is the best way to catch the energy of the rising sun. An incidental result then is that all of the homes are also located on the north side of the street. Two "Golden Domes of Pure Knowledge" are located in Vedic City, allowing for each gender to have a place to meditate for up to four hours a day. (Which must cut down a lot on the "Jerry Springer.") We were free to explore the Domes quite freely, and if one had been so inclined, could have made off with a fair number of tennis shoes found resting comfortably and unsecure outside the meditation rooms.
The followers of the meditation movement in Fairfield appear to be, by and large, financially well-to-do. It stands to reason that people who pick up stakes and move someplace for the purpose of spiritual enlightenment would have the monetary freedom to do so. It's been that way in America ever since the days of the Great Hobo Migration in the late 1940s. (I made that up.) As a result, there are a number of high-tech firms and businesses located in Fairfield, and that's where the trendy coffee shops and tofu restaurants come in. (I think we only had one meal in town that wasn't ordered off a behind-the-counter boarded menu written in colored chalk.) Fairfield claims more than 25 art galleries, more restaurants per capita than San Francisco, and not one domestic car registered to the residents of Vedic City.
Our Friday evening was wonderful. There were near-record high temperatures for a November 24th, and the town square played host to the unveiling of the civic holiday lighting display. Hundreds gathered downtown, many of the teenagers in their Fairfield High letterwinner jackets. (They think they're
so cool.) The school chorus sang by candlelight (mostly the girls, it seemed,) and then a 50-year member of the local Lions' Club flipped the ceremonial light switch. A Nativity was illuminated, along with one of those Jewish multi-candle thingies, and Santa's reindeer raced in circles inside the park's central gazebo. The Kringle, himself, arrived shortly after to indulge the whines of petulant children, and then there were three hours set aside for horse-drawn wagon rides around the square.
It was a very "Currier and Ives"-like, traditional event in a very
non-traditional city. That owes, I think, to both the meditators and the non-meditators. It was that fusion of cultures that created such a memorable visit for us. It was the organic health-food store standing across the square from the local pizza house, where a serving staff of high school kids pimped artery-choking pizza pies and burgers. It was a sort of "Pottersville-meets-Cicely, Alaska" hybrid. Without those descendents of the area's early settlers-- which is, in essence, what Vedic City is all about-- we would have only experienced
that development's ultra-modern, very uniform and very antiseptic community. And without the meditators, we'd have been left with just... well, Mount Pleasant.
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If you decide to heed my advice, for once in your life, and visit Fairfield, stay at the recently-renovated
Landmark Inn. Formerly the Fairfield Inn, it rests just a block from the Amtrak rail, and is within walking distance to all of the action downtown. At just fifty bucks a night, it makes it easier to afford all the five dollar coffees.
The Most Valuable Player
No Thanksgiving-themed post tonight. I tried coming up with a joke about the presidential pardoning of the turkey and waterboarding, but writing my own jokes is not my forte.
Instead, I wanted to share some baseball research I did today on-line after gorging on ham, potatoes, and green bean casserole (and perhaps entirely too much of the vino, judge for yourself.)
The Philadelphia Phillies' Ryan Howard is, by all accounts, a very nice man, and that he's a St. Louis native, it's intriguing to imagine that he might up and decide one day he wants to play for the Cardinals, but he should not have been the National League MVP in 2006. Albert Pujols should have won the prize, based on the fact that he was the only hitter in the circuit to finish in the top 5 in batting average, home runs, RBIs, runs, on-base percentage, and slugging percentage, the fact that he hit .397 with runners in scoring position to Howard's .256, and quite simply, because his team made the playoffs.
You know that I've argued before-- as recently as this month-- that the league playoffs should be included in the equation for league voting. And what is spectacularly bewitching this year is that, even though award voters knew at least who was in the playoffs and who was out when they cast their ballots, and even though wholly one-fourth of all NL teams now qualify for the playoffs (the highest percentage in history), the voters still chose to give the league's MVP, Cy Young, Rookie of the Year, and Manager of the Year awards to men whose teams sat out the month of October. It's mind-boggling.
These individual awards were not meant to be consolation prizes, people. In particular, the MVP was intended to reward the best player on the best team, just like the basketball tournaments where three of the all-tournament starting five inevitably come from the championship team. To the victor go the spoils. Only in extenating circumstances (.424 batting average, the Triple Crown, 70 home runs, etc.) should the opposite hold true.
I know we have a few strict Constitutional constructionists out there, so let's look at a little something called "original intent," i.e. the early interpretation of the MVP Award. (Only in the National League, though. Who cares about the American League? And I really do have a bloated stomach.) As I see it, 1969 was the beginning of the breakdown of order towards awarding the trophy to "the best player on the best team," and of course that year coincides with the breakup of the National League into two six-team divisions. This was the year that the powers-that-be had to make the decision-- Do we vote on the award at the end of the regular season, or do we stick with tradition and wait until the actual pennant has been decided? Unfortunately, they chose the former.
By my afternoon calculations (simple arithmetic polished at a state college,) 34 of 48 National League MVP awards given before 1969 went to players who played on the pennant-winning club. Between the reinstitution of the award in 1924 and 1968, an also-ran claimed the prize not even once every three years. But
since 1969, the pennant-winning club boasted the MVP award winner on its roster only 12 times in 36 years. (I threw out 1979 because the prize was shared between one player for each side of the debate.) Shockingly, only twice in the last 15 years have the top team and top player award coincided (1999, Atlanta's Chipper Jones, and 2002, San Francisco's Barry Bonds.)
When will we stop this madness? When will fools stop making the argument that "the post-season has its own awards?"
August has its own award. It's called "The Player of the Month for August." Does that mean that statistics compiled in the month of August shouldn't weigh in the post-season voting? If the playoffs would have been taken into consideration this season,
the supposedly-jilted Yankee, Derek Jeter, would have received even fewer votes than he did, after he failed to take a leadership role during the A-Rod debacle and the resulting negativity suffocated his team out of contention.
And the voting sportswriters would have also had the chance to see that 2006 was destined to belong to Albert Pujols and the Cardinals, just as when the writers lucked out in 1988 and voted the prize to the Dodgers' eventual-post-season hero, Kirk Gibson. Howard may have put his mark on the season by belting a few more home runs than Pujols, and winning the All-Star Game Home Run Derby (a should-have-been-non-factor that many sportswriters strangely seem to be bringing up now in the justification of their Howard votes,) but Pujols carried his team to the ultimate flag. It's just downright goofy that the Cardinals would win dramatic pennants in both 2004 and 2006, but the MVP trophy in Albert's living room would be engraved "2005."
Stan the Man still swingin'
It's a date
never to be missed. Happy 86th, Stan Musial! This year, St. Louis sportswriter
Dan O'Neill handles the idolatry.
Play us something in the key of C,
Stanley...
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Moeller TV Fest Countdown (18 days)- This Day in TV History: On November 21st, 2006, the world was in stunned disarray one day after "Seinfeld's" Michael Richards appeared on "The Late Show with David Letterman" during an interview with Jerry Seinfeld to apologize for a racist tirade on-stage at a Los Angeles comedy club the previous weekend. Moeller TV Festival-goers waited impatiently for the upcoming screening of "Seinfeld's" classic episode "The Contest," just 18 days later.
TV Fest Countdown- 11/20/06
Moeller TV Fest Countdown (19 days)- This Day in TV History: On November 20th, 1976, the Beatles' George Harrison answered "Saturday Night Live" producer Lorne Michaels' on-air request to appear on the late night show. Seven months earlier, Michaels had promised $3000 to the band if they would reunite and perform on the show. Upon finding out that he'd only receive 1/4 of the promised sum, a circumstance Michaels blamed on the network, Harrison replied, "$750 is a little chintzy."
Give the rich a chance
If Representative Charles Rangel (D-NY) has his way, war hawks all across the United States will have the opportunity to put their money where their mouth is. On Sunday, the incoming chairman of the House Ways and Means committee told reporters he would propose legislation for a third time to re-instititute the military draft, but this time before a Democratically-controlled chamber.
Rangel, a Korean War veteran, says he believes the draft is just what's needed to deprive politicians of the public support necessary to launch unnecessary wars. "There's no question in my mind," he said, "that this president and this administration would never have invaded Iraq, especially on the flimsy evidence that was presented to Congress, if indeed we had a draft and members of Congress and the administration thought that their kids from their communities would be placed in harm's way." Rangel's congressional district in New York City is one of the poorest in the United States.
A disporportionate few have been asked to sacrifice for the war in Iraq, and those individual sacrifices have not been meager. Troop levels, by all accounts, are horrendous. The same soldiers are being mobilized again and again into the meat grinder, all the while millions of war proponents of strong conviction and physical adequacy, plus the "mushy middle," stand on the sidelines. Many have been quick to label the current conflict "World War III," but absent since those other wars has been the call to ration resources, or the obligation of those beyond the lower middle-class to do anything other than "shop till they drop" or affix Yellow Ribbon stickers to the backs of their cars.
Rangel promises that his proposal would cast a net to include persons aged 16 to 42, a demographic that includes those six years older than the men asked to serve in World War II. Life expectancy having changed as it has, this makes a world of sense. Not only would Barbara and Jenna Bush be included, along with Dick Cheney's own
"deferment baby," Elizabeth, and her sister, Mary, but Chelsea Clinton and six still unenlisted John McCain offspring. Matthew, Rebecca, Ethan, and Hana Lieberman would all be issued draft cards.
The true merit of Rangel's proposal is that it acknowledges and combats the preying of military recruiters upon the impoverished and disenfranchised. If passed, it would threaten to finally bring the heinous realities of our Iraqi occupation into the living rooms of upper middle-class families. It would effectively end the president's dress-up dates aboard aircraft carriers, and even as it ultimately goes down to crushing and overwhelming defeat in the House of Representatives, would reveal the real lack of commitment in Washington and across the country to the physical and emotional well-being of our enlisted men and women, and their families, in this mission. I say "have their backs", or get the fuck out.
I know where my money would be.
If I killed Nicole Brown Simpson, here's how I would have done it
Here's what a true blue progressive, Rep. Dennis Kucinich (D- Ohio) had to say today about selecting the new Democratic Majority leader:
As many of you know, I was one of those who organized the effort to stop the US from going to war against Iraq. One hundred and twenty-five Democrats, nearly two-thirds of our caucus, voted against the war.Once the war started, America drifted deeper and deeper into the morass of Iraq, with rising troop casualties, near incalculable Iraqi civilian deaths and tremendous expense for the American taxpayers. It was only when prominent Members of Congress began to reconsider their position that America had a new hope for a new direction.Chief among those who saw the dramatically changing circumstances, and who had the courage not only to rethink Iraq, but to step forward publicly and declare his concerns, was Jack Murtha.
Jack Murtha's reconsideration of the Iraq War enabled many others who had voted for the war or otherwise supported it, to express their own doubts.
Jack Murtha and I have not always agreed in the past, and we may disagree in the future. None of us is right 100% of the time. We need Jack Murtha for Majority Leader because, at a critical moment on the major international policy issue facing America and the world, he showed an openness, a readiness to listen, and a willingness to set a new direction, based on new information.
This is the mark of someone who moves forward with courage, and strength through inclusion. These are qualities which will make Jack Murtha a great Majority Leader.
Hear, hear. And power to the people.
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You gotta love modern baseball. The Cards win the Series, and their closer in the clinching game gets nary a first, second, or third place vote for Rookie of the Year, then their skipper gets completely shut out in the Manager of the Year voting, even as he punches his Hall of Fame ticket. Unbelievable.
World Series action shouldn't weigh in the voting, but for the thousandth time, could we wait until after
the playoffs to call in the ballots? Why should we be determining the National League's MVP, Cy Young winner, top manager, and Rookie of the Year when the National League hasn't been decided yet?
The manager vote was really stupid. It's
often a consolation prize for mediocre teams. Too many writers vote for the best storyline. The Florida Marlins didn't come particularly close to a berth in a playoff system that invites in a full quarter of the league's teams, but Joe Girardi's team
did fare much better than expected. He won the award the moment his boss announced he would be canned at season's end.
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Moeller TV Fest Countdown (24 days)- This Day in TV History: On November 15th, 1955, the first commercial break over-run took place on British television. An advertisement aired by mistake caused viewers to miss a brief portion of a live boxing match. No real harm done.
Cinema '07
A pair of long-anticipated film projects are scheduled for theatrical release in 2007. "The Final Season," the movie about Norway, Iowa's last high school baseball campaign has been
completed, and is slated for a springtime unveiling, while "The Simpsons Movie" arrives in theaters July 27th. A trailer for the latter now
appears on-line, after debuting nationwide during last Sunday's "Simpsons" episode on FOX.
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Moeller TV Fest Countdown (25 days)- This Day in TV History: On November 14th, 2004, Moellers and guests wrapped up the third ever Moeller TV Festival with four hours of memorable programs from television past. Viewers were intrigued by the first ever festival screening of "The Sopranos," and were sickened by a tasteless episode of "Married... With Children," in which Al Bundy was held hostage at the shoe store by a group of obese and very angry women.
Civic duty
I became the proud new owner of a 2003 Honda Civic this afternoon. The vehicle comes complete with 36 to 38 miles per gallon interstate fuel efficiency, a sunroof, and the factory- original "chick-magnet." (See "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan" at a theater near you.) The old
Grand Prix, having long ago lost much of its "Grand"-eur, commanded $300 in trade, roughly the cash equivalent of the loose change that had accumulated in the ashtray.
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Christmas came early for me when the Cardinals re-upped one of my all-timers, Jim Edmonds, on Friday to a two-year deal that will assure that the centerfielder finishes his career in St. Louis. At an average salary of $10 million per year, it's too expensive of a deal in the minds of many Redbird rooters, but Edmonds heroically got his achy body ready for this year's post-season, then not only rallied the team to victory as the emotional clubhouse leader, but led the club in post-season RBI's. A very ordinary Gary Matthews, Jr. will command $10 mil a year
or more at the head of the CF free agent class this off-season, and the signing of "Diamond Jim" also serves to keep the entire core of the championship club together. I'll be front and center for Jim Edmonds Day at Busch Stadium in late September of 2008.
The Cubs on the otherhand...
What are they doing getting railroaded by Aramis Ramirez for 5 years and $73 million? If you're going to drop that much coin-- that's the type of expression I use now that I've upgraded my car-- for a ballplayer who doesn't hustle, or, as his manager said more diplomatically this summer, "just hustled at the wrong time and wrong situation," then why not just sign J.D. Drew, who opted out of his contract last week with the Dodgers? Come to think of it, the Cubs may yet have that move in mind, too. The Kerry Wood re-signing can be nothing but a positive, though. For only $1.75 million guaranteed, and for just one year, Wood has a world of upside. The trick with him will be keeping him in the fold if he has a breakout year in the bullpen.
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Moeller TV Fest Countdown (26 days)- This Day in TV History: November 13th is "Odd Couple" day. "
On November 13th, Felix Unger was asked to remove himself from his place of residence. That request came from his wife." Can two divorced men share an apartment without driving each other crazy? I expect to one day find out.
TV Fest schedule announced
"Moeller TV Festival 5: Comedy Classics" is coming December 9th and 10th to Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Lunch will be served. Arrive early for prime parking and tailgating space. Call 515-249-3457 to RSVP, to submit your favorite episode for the "Open Remote" feature, and for directions to the festival's top secret location.
The 2006 screening schedule is as follows (subject to change)...
SATURDAY AFTERNOON (one pm-ish)
"Three Coaches and a Bobby," King of the Hill, Episode #47, FOX 1/26/99
"The Straight Poop," Moonlighting, Episode #34, ABC 1/6/87
"Now Pitching, Sam Malone," Cheers, Episode #13, NBC 1/6/83
"The Contest," Seinfeld, Episode #51, NBC 11/18/92
"Barney and the Choir," The Andy Griffith Show, Episode #52, CBS 2/19/62
"An Officer and a Gentleman," Roseanne, Episode #38, ABC 1/23/90
"Show #2308," Late Show with David Letterman, Episode #2344, CBS 1/31/05
SUNDAY AFTERNOON
"S.O.B.s," Arrested Development, Episode #49, FOX 1/2/06
"Bully," Dr. Katz, Professional Therapist, Episode #3, Comedy Central 6/11/95
"Daydream," Newsradio, Episode #35, NBC 11/13/96
"A Charlie Brown Christmas," CBS 12/9/65
"The Ski Lift," Curb Your Enthusiasm, Episode #48, HBO 11/20/05
"Trail of Tears," Strangers with Candy, Episode #23, Comedy Central 7/24/00
"Homer's Enemy," The Simpsons, Episode #176, FOX 5/4/97
Out in left field, my Lonnie Smith autograph story
During an August weekend in 1988, at the tender age of 13, I endured one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life. My old man, my brother, and I were in St. Louis to see the Cardinals play the Braves and Reds on consecutive nights. By the time both ballgames had ended, and I had vigilantly patrolled the stadium and nearby parking garages for the better part of a weekend, I had secured the autographs of Cardinals Ozzie Smith, Joe Magrane, Tony Pena, Steve Lake, Mike Laga (famous for hitting the only ball ever completely out of old Busch Stadium-- it was foul), former Cardinal Ken Oberkfell, Hall-of-Famer Red Schoendienst, and broadcaster Jack Buck. But perhaps the most meaningful "securing," and easily the most scarring, was that of Braves' outfielder Lonnie Smith.
Lonnie Smith, you see, was my first ever "favorite Cardinal." He had been arguably the best hitter on the Cardinals' 1982 World Championship team, a .307 batter for the season who finished second to Atlanta's Dale Murphy in the '82 MVP voting. (He fell on his ass enough in left field, however, that he earned the nickname "Skates.") He was a black man with a mustache and cool sideburns, and I wanted to be a black man with a mustache and cool sideburns. I cannot tell you how many times I scoured the baseball card bin at Kay-Bee Toys at Westdale Mall in Cedar Rapids in the winter of 1985 looking for Lonnie's new Topps-brand card. Kay-Bee carried those see-through chain packs that revealed three different cards in front and three in back. I could still present to you today that complete 1985 Topps-brand set of cards in protective plastic sheets, and I swear to you even now that the Lonnie Smith card, portraying the Cardinal in a corkscrew-looking backswing and revealing his uniform back #27 is the shiniest of all 792 cards that year. But I'll get on with it.
In '84, it was publicly revealed that Lonnie was seeking drug treatment. I took a lot of shit for that from friends, and from my brother, whose baseball hero is banned for life from the game for gambling. But Lonnie's manager, Whitey Herzog, said right away that Lonnie deserved credit for coming forward on his own to seek help. Lonnie returned to the club later in the year and finished with a .321 batting average for the season, his highest as a Cardinal. The next year, he was shipped off to Kansas City, and Whitey said that if the National League had employed the designated hitter, Lonnie would have died a Cardinal, but I still suspect those off-the-field circumstances had caused a public relations headache for the brewery, which owned the club at that time.
By 1988, when Lonnie returned to St. Louis with the Braves, he was still very popular with fans. I spotted him walking between the stadium and a parking garage after that Atlanta ballgame and set my pursuit. I was carrying the scorecard from the game, and that's what the various players had been affixing their signatures to, but you have to know, first, that this autograph endeavor had been a very discouraging process. For all the autographs I was getting, I was being refused or ignored by just as many other baseball luminaries. I was at the peak of my awkward teenage years, and most of the other guys competing with me for autographs were middle-age, heavyset, let's face it,
fat individuals. As I followed Lonnie, I soon found myself crowded within a dense pack of jackals a pace or two behind the player, being pushed and elbowed from every direction. Finally, I lost my patience with the bullies. In a fit of desperation and fatigue, I reached forward, and slightly upward, with my right hand, scorecard to fingers...... (Fade out)
(Fade in)
What I remember best now, almost two decades later, is the horrific reaction, his head recoiling in pain, his lungs giving breath to a blood-curdling cry. I had stabbed my hero, Lonnie Smith, in the eye... with one of the sharp corners from my scorecard.
Oh, and the dirty looks I got. The other hounds were fearful my action would cause the All-Star outfielder to stop signing.
But he didn't. He was a prince. He signed every item presented before him on his way to a friend's automobile-- the last item being
my scorecard after I had cowered dejectedly to the back of the pack.
Anyway, gang, Lonnie is back in the news this week, under rather embarrassing headlines. It turns out I wasn't the only obstacle he was having to contend with during that Wonder Year of 1988. According to today's accounts, he was also trying to keep a lid on "murderous" impulses and a tenuous mental grip on reality. Believing he'd had him blackballed from the game, Lonnie says now he had considered an attempt to murder Braves general manager John Schuerholz.
Eighteen years sober now-- keep on keepin' on, Lonnie. I still love you, man, and am forever in your debt for your generosity and patience. I hope all of your old scars have healed, including the one on your retina I may have caused.
Voters tell Washington "Stop the war"
Today is a day of great rejoice for Americans-- not specifically because Democrats took control of both the U. S. Senate and House of Representatives-- they still have to prove themselves-- but because their electoral victory led to the immediate resignation of Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. I'm going to interpret his departure as an indication that White House insiders believed the Democrats were about to channel their newfound power toward his ouster, even though I'm not completely convinced myself that they would have been adequately aggressive in that regard if given the chance.
I won't jump for joy yet in regards to potential legislative action. Let us not forget that it was a Democratic-controlled Senate, after the Republican defection of Jim Jeffords in 2001, that passed Bush's No Child Left Behind education bill, as well as the Patriot Act. It's particularly frightening that many Democrats are spinning their victory on Tuesday as a mandate to move the party to the center, when in fact the results had everything to do with the disastrous war in Iraq, now opposed by more than 60 percent of Americans. I shuddered when I heard one left-centrist pundit today describe Rumsfelds' resignation as an opportunity to "get the job done right" in Iraq, rather than to pursue the sound course of action and abandon the occupation altogether.
The first thing House Democrats need to do is follow
Arianna Huffington's advice and anoint Jack Murtha their Majority Leader. He was the man most responsible for leading them to victory-- the elected representative who best demonstrated that the anti-war position
was the centrist position across the nation. After his appointment, both chamber leaderships should push resolutions declaring that the U.S. military leave Iraq by July 1st of next year. The Iraqi people want that action, a majority of Americans want it, and the rest of the world now
expects it after the public rebuke of Bush.
Much will be made of Ned Lamont's defeat at the hands of Joe Lieberman in Connecticut, but Lamont compromised his own campaign by stopping the drumbeat against the war immediately following his primary victory. He tried to carve out his own place in the center to combat "GOP Joe." Everywhere else, voters demanded a leftward push. I found particular redemption in the rejection of "Democrat" Harold Ford, Jr. in Kentucky, who ran as a full-bore Republican-- pro-gun, anti-gay, with public lectures in support of the Ten Commandments for good measure. He made Lieberman look like Eugene Debs in the Congress with a National Journal "liberal" rating of only 58 percent. Meanwhile, real liberals like Ohio Rep. Sherrod Brown (84% "liberal" on that same chart) and Vermont Rep. Bernie Sanders (90% "liberal") won their Senate races handedly on Tuesday. Even moderate Republicans like Iowa's own Jim Leach paid a price for standing too close to Bush. He lost to Democrat Dave Loebsack.
It's put up or shut up time now for Democrats. It was one thing to stand on the sidelines and watch the Republicans destroy themselves, it's something else altogether to truly lead. America has spoken. Bring our brave men and women home.
Lance who?
The results are in from yesterday's New York City Marathon, and a city long-famous for such road racers' hazards as potholes, runaway taxicabs, and errant baseball tosses from Chuck Knoblauch delivered again. Our dear friend, Rob Semelroth of Des Moines, the Carrie Nation of 21st Century cigarette consumption, was the 92nd finisher (out of 37,954 participants) in an official time of 2 hours, 34 minutes, and 57 seconds. I had a chance to talk with Rob by mobile telephone this afternoon (from his tourist station at the Museum of Natural History in Manhattan, where you won't see many mobile telephones on display) and he expressed to me that the 2 hours were the hardest part, followed
surprisingly by the 57 seconds, and lastly the 34 minutes. His finishing time is that much more remarkable when you consider that he detoured fifty blocks to midtown at one point to catch the final three production numbers of "Jersey Boys."
Rob finished 80th among his gender (Male), and 38th in his age group (31 to Dead[?]). Finishing well off his pace was the so-called "World's Greatest Athlete," Lance Armstrong, who limped across the finish in 869th place, high on God knows what kind of performance stimulant, in a time just under 3 hours (2:59:36).
When asked to assess his marathon performance on Monday (and just
what exactly is Rob running
from anyway?) the notoriously self-flagellating Semelroth chose the single adjective "bad," immediately preceded by the single adverb "pretty." The Keystone, Iowa native's personal marathon best is 2:32:12 (if you can believe a word that comes out of his mouth), achieved earlier this year at Austin, Texas, where local boy Armstrong didn't have the nerve to even run, and where Semelroth finished just ahead of what he memorably dubbed "a pack of good-time Charlies" from Willie Nelson's tour bus.
Semelroth's next scheduled race is later this week, back to a lonely, underfurnished condominium in Des Moines littered with piles of sweaty exercise clothes.
Tangled up in goo
Contributor Aaron Moeller is published
elsewhere again, this time with top billing for his shameless fawning over Bob Dylan.
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Who wrote
this? I like it.
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Yet to come in November, the screening schedule for the 5th Annual Moeller Television Festival, December 9th and 10th in Cedar Rapids, IA. RSVP at 515-249-3457.
Monkey Business
As promised, here are some weekend
costume party pics courtesy of our friend, Gilligan. Yours truly is the handsome gent behind the greasepaint.
The debutante from Massachusetts
With enemies like John Kerry, who needs friends? The Senator from Massachusetts stepped in it again this week when he told a group of California college students, "You know, education, if you make the most of it, you study hard, you do your homework and you make an effort to be smart, you can do well. If you don't, you get stuck in Iraq." Kerry claims he was referring to
the President being stuck in Iraq with a failed military policy, but the White House jumped on the statement and asserted that the Senator was referring to the U.S. troops themselves.
Like that other phony populist who preceeded him in the White House, George W. Bush owes more of his electoral success to the incompetency and missteps of his critics than to any individual asset of his own possession. It's better to be lucky, the lesson goes, than to be good.
My guess is that Kerry probably meant it both ways. I find it easy to believe, as the Senator contends, that he mistold a joke directed at Bush, whom he
often belittles on the stump, but at the same time, that's exactly how Kerry's northeastern crowd thinks. I truly believe that. And every time they lose another national election, it reinforces their belief that they're more enlightened than those of us in the hinterland. You don't have to be a Rush Limbaugh ditto-head to feel the disconnect. This is a guy who's wife, during the 2004 Presidential campaign, told a crowd in Chicago that their city was so beautiful "she could live there." That's the mindset of privilege.
And notice many Democrats are coming to Kerry's defense by arguing that
it is the poor that are forced to serve in uniform, but that's not what Kerry is in trouble for having said. If guilty, the implication is not that recruits are predominantly poor, it's that they were too lazy in school. Suddenly, all of those old jokes about rich Republicans apply as well or better to the Democrat's top public figures-- i.e.,
He was born with a silver foot in his mouth, or
He was born on third base and thought he hit a triple.Not since roughly 1972 has John Kerry shown us any authenticity. Like Al Gore before him, he was manhandled as the Democrats' standard-bearer by the party's chief campaign strategists and fuck-ups and then tried to salvage his liberal bona-fides in a second act by steering to the left, but that maneuver rings hollow also when it's so far after the fact and every approval poll on the war and the president is on his side. And how depressing is it that he's one of the only Washington Democrats willing to oppose the war now or stand against his deeply-entrenched colleague "GOP Joe" Lieberman. Kerry's not a leader. He never has been. He's a resume. And Democrats think resumes win campaigns.
The good that will come from this is that Kerry will be relegated to the trash heap of 2008 presidential candidates before he has a chance to do any more significant damage. Said Dick Cheney today about Kerry's efforts to try to regain his public footing, "He was for the joke before he was against it." When Cheney's scoring on you, it's time to bow out.
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All of the above pales in comparison, of course, to the most deeply-rooted insults of all to our troops, being perpetuated by President Bush with his lies, his lack of vision and his empty platitudes. His reaffirmation today of Donald Rumsfeld as Secretary of Defense in the face of all common sense and dignity is a dizzying slap in the face to service men and women and civilians alike. I'll wait breathlessly for a Democratic response.
