Baseball, Life, and Other Stuff

A Son of Thunder by Henry Mayer

Modern Americans know little about Patrick Henry, save that he said, "Give me liberty or give me death!"  A country lawyer, the Governor of Virginia, and an ardent opponent of the Constitution, Henry was above all a patriot.  A Son of Thunder by Henry Mayer is a very readable biography of the Revolution's greatest orator.

Henry began his adult life as a farmer and store keeper who struggled to pay his debts as did most of his neighbors.  At age 24, he decided to become a lawyer.  With as little as 6 weeks of self-study according to one account, he set off for Williamsburg to take the bar exam.  Remarkably, he passed and soon garnered a reputation as a lawyer of the people.  Indeed, Henry was from Virginia's Piedmont and was not part of the "Tidewater aristocracy" that had ruled Virginia for 100 years or more.

Raised in an evangelical household, Henry had been exposed early and often to the emotional preaching of the circuit riders and he learned that passion and presentation could be just as effective as logic when it came to winning an argument.

"By age 27," Mayer writes, Henry was "a force in Virginia politics."  And, he was already the persuasive, even mesmerizing orator that legend describes him as being.

His concern was always for the rights of the people and it was this concern that led him to oppose ratification of the Constitution on the grounds that such a strong Federal government could usurp the rights of the people whenever it wished.  If the Constitution could not be defeated, he urged that an enumeration of the specific rights of the people at least be included.  We refer to Henry's notion as the Bill of Rights.

I highly recommend this biography of one of America's most interesting founders.  It is especially relevant at this very moment in our history to study the philosophy and follow the arguments and concerns  of America's most eloquent architect.  Henry would be gravely concerned about what he would no doubt perceive as great cracks in his country's foundation.

Baseball in Washington or One More Prediction

In order to boost fan morale after losing more games than any other team in big league baseball, the Washington Nationals will bring back the ballcap golf carts to ferry relief pitchers into the game.

The EPA will immediately demand that the carts with the giant baseball hat for a roof increase the minimum miles per reliever of each cart while the National Transportation Safety Board will demand that seat belts be installed.  This will precipitate a financial crisis for the maker of the carts which will result in the Secretary of the Treasury stating that the ballcap golf cart makers are too big to fail and he will ask Congress for a bailout.  Meanwhile, the Justice Department will file suit against this lone manufacturer, claiming that it enjoys a monopoly, and an injunction will be filed to prevent the Nationals from using any relievers until the various lawsuits are settled.

After spending its bailout money to defend itself from the Justice Department suit, retool its plant to install seat belts, and increase the reliever efficiency rating of each cart, the cart manufacturer will declare bankruptcy when the Department of Health and Human Services declares that relievers must walk in from the bullpen in order to achieve the mandatory preventative daily exercise requirement that appears on page 1,789 of the health care bill that nobody read.

5 Predictions for the Upcoming MLB Season!

As I look into my crystal baseball, I foresee the following for the 2010 season:

Manny Ramirez will cut his dreadlocks, hustle on defense, and run out every ground ball . . . Nah, just kidding!  He'll miss at least 2 fly balls when his dreadlocks flop into his eyes and he'll forget where first base is in a game against Colorado, which he'll promptly blame on the thin air.  July 4th is the over/under date as to when he quits on his teammates.

Baseball writers will discover that Tony LaRussa and Dave Duncan are highly overrated.

All 5 members of the American League Central Division will finish at .500 which will precipitate a complex and lengthy playoff to determine a winner thereby delaying the regularly scheduled playoffs.  Baseball fans receive an early Christmas present when the 7th game of the World Series is played on December 24th.

The Orioles will trade prospect Josh Bell along with 2 young pitchers to the Mets for third baseman David Wright who will continue to struggle in cavernous Citi Field.

New Phillie Roy Halladay, who will no longer have to face the Yankees and Red Sox in his own division nor a DH, will become baseball's first 30 game winner since Denny McClain in 1968.

An Old Sign of Spring

Even after Caesar crossed the Rubicon, the citizens of Rome still had to feed themselves and feed their spirits with laughter and hope.  With that thought in mind, let's turn our attention to a precious childhood memory, that is to a sign of spring that was more eagerly anticipated by my friends and me than the bloom of daffodils or the return of any robins. I'm referring to the almost unbearable wait for the unveiling of the new season's baseball cards.  Starting in February, there were only two wordly questions that concerned us:  What would the new cards look like and when would they get here?  The March issue of Baseball Digest might give us a black and white answer to the first question as an ad for the complete set might appear in the back somewhere.  Part of that ad might just show the design of the new cards.  Of course, the illustration in the ad was about the size of a fruit fly and it revealed nothing about the color schemes that would be used for each team.

Beginning about this time of the year, at the end of March, we would talk our parents into driving us to the general store on Saturday to see if they had arrived.  If they couldn't take us, we would just walk across the couple of miles of pasture that lay between us and the store.  Nickels in hand, we would burst into the store, straight to the candy counter.  Rarely were there any boxes of baseball cards the first day we checked.  Sooner or later, however, there in the lower left corner would be a Topps box filled with wax packs.  It was always gratifying to buy the first packs of the year and always somewhat annoying to see that a few packs were missing and that some other kid had gotten there first.

An older couple by the name of Sewell ran that store and they would let us pick out the packs we wanted.  They knew that you couldn't just grab 5 right off the top; that was a sure fire way to end up with 10 Chico Salmons.  No, you had to root around taking a pack from various levels in the box in order to avoid doubles.  It didn't really work like that, but it gave us a sense that we had some control over our world.

Now, of course, cards are available all-year round and each pack cost what would have been about 6 months of my allowance from back then.  And there's no longer any gum that comes with the packs.  That pink slab of goo--or two or three--made for some great bubble blowing, assuming that your teeth were up to the task of grinding into its original malleable state.  If not, you could always use it to patch cracks in the driveway.

Every spring is beautiful.  Those springs were special.

1964 was a great design and the first year I collected baseball cards.  This one of a young Boog Powell still has the gum stains across the front.

Governing Ourselves

I have intentionally stayed away from discussing politics in this blog, because we all need a place in which we can contemplate light-hearted topics such as the worst baseball uniforms or unintelligible song lyrics.  This entry will also avoid the topic of politics, but it is impossible to avoid the topic of governing, in light of yesterday's events.  We the people had better begin taking seriously our jobs as the overseers of our elected representatives before the American Dream becomes nothing but a memory.

What is the American Dream?  Simply put, it is the fact that every individual American has the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  That is not only the simplest answer, it is the best answer.

Every debate on policy and legislation should center around whether or not that policy or legislation enhances the American Dream.  That means that every debate must be grounded in the philosophy of America and not grounded in who "wins and who loses."  It doesn't matter one whit which "side" wins the debate; it matters completely whether America wins the debate.  Every Congressman must stand on his or her principles, which should include the ability to say, "You're right; I was wrong" as well as, "I don't know."

We can expand the categories of life, liberty, and happiness (as conservatives tend to do) and we can expand, as we have historically done, those in our society who can and should be allowed to participate in the Dream (as liberals tend to do).  If we change the definition itself, however, then logically, it is no longer the American Dream.

I will speak only for myself:  I greatly fear that the definition is being changed right before me.  I fear that the American Dream of individuals free to pursue life, liberty, and happiness, is being subverted and perverted by those who don't trust us as individuals.

Interestingly, a number of the founding fathers were distrustful of "the rabble" though one could argue that "the rabble" and their champions, Sam Adams and Patrick Henry provided the psychic energy--and the men in the ranks--that won our freedom from Great Britain.

Indeed, it was Henry who argued that America must be a nation of laws and not of men (what we in the 21st century might call the "cult of personality") because otherwise, we would endure "the worst of mischiefs" if our leaders were bad men.  (For the Henry's complete remarks click here.)

The fundamental laws of human nature know not the bounds of a political party.  To quote one last time from Patrick Henry:  If you give too little power today, you may give more tomorrow.  But the reverse will not hold.  If you give too much power today, tomorrow will never come.

Another Hero Gone

I was very saddened to learn, yesterday afternoon, of the death of Fess Parker.  The tall Texan was most famous for playing Davy Crockett in three episodes of the 1955 Disneyland TV show.  The show was so popular that the episodes were spliced together and made into a movie.  From 1964-1970, Parker played Daniel Boone on the television show of the same name.

The Adventures of Davy Crockett was the first movie that I ever remember seeing.  When I was in 2nd grade, my mom and I walked to Pleasant Plains Elementary where it was being shown as part of some sort of spring festival.  I was impressed to the point of being moved.  Here was a man:  funny (the movie opens with Davy trying to "grin a barr" to death) and mild-mannered, yet when it was time to act, he acted.  The movie closes with a dissolving shot of Davy swinging his rifle, "Old Betsy," on the parapet of the Alamo.  Davy Crockett, whose real-life motto was "Make sure you're right; then go ahead," put his life on the line for what he thought was right.  I felt awed as we walked home, through the warm, now dark evening.

Fess Parker was the perfect actor for the role, but as I reflect on his performance and the historical characters that he brought to life, I find that what I truly mourn is the death of an American ideal.  No longer do we value men whose greatest strength and most effective weapon is their belief in what is right.  We trade our liberty for the appearance of security, while our "leaders" trade their votes in order to improve their position at the public trough.  We must be inclusive, sensitive, multi-cultural, and politically correct, but we can't ever be right, because that, of course, has become merely relative.

Rest in peace, Fess Parker and thank you for portraying an American ideal.

What Are They Singing??

Faithful reader Melissa Dodge suggested a follow-up topic to Monday's blog on great song lyrics--namely, lyrics that you think you understand, but in reality, you have no clue what the artist is singing.

Sometimes, you just get the words wrong.  Martha had a co-worker who thought that Tavares was singing "Bald Headed Woman" when they were actually singing, "More Than a Woman."  This is the same thing as wondering who the fat guy named John is in the Christmas carol "Silent Night."  Only it turns out that it's not "round John Virgin," it's "round yon virgin."

Other times, you get the words wrong until you actually see the performer and can read his or her lips.  This usually occurs 30 years after the song hit #1 and is part of the Time-Life CD infomercial.  Of course, by this time, you have rehearsed the wrong words so many times, that you can't get the correct ones into your head.

Still other times, you hear the sound correctly, but still misunderstand.  For years, I thought that Seals and Croft were singing about the summer breeze "blowing through the jazz man in my mind."  That sort of made sense in that drugged out 70s kind of way.  Only in the last few years have I discovered that the summer breeze was blowing through the "jasmine" in my mind.  I actually like my interpretation better; it's much more mysterious.

What say you, readers?  What lyrics have you perpetually misunderstood?

Brilliant Lyrics

I turn on the radio and hear a line in a song by Kelly Clarkson that states, "my life would suck without you."  Really?  Is that all you got, songwriters Dr. Luke and Max Martin?  That line is so base and banal that it makes my ears cringe, but it did get me to thinking about the best lines that I've ever heard in a song.  I came up with three pretty quickly.

Lest you think that I'm merely an old fogey who hates all modern music, the first line that comes to mind is from a 2005 Anna Nalick song entitled "Breath ( 2 AM)":  Life's like an hourglass glued to the table." Now THAT's a great line; easily understood, but incredibly meaningful.  It's certainly superior to say, "You can't go back and that sucks."

A second great line comes from a song that I've blogged about before, the 1936 Eric Maschwitz song, "These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)":  The sigh of midnight trains in empty stations.  That is such a strong image that you can feel the activity that had taken place in the busy train station during the day, but now, at midnight, when all is empty, even the train is lonely.

The last line that I love has nothing to do with imagery and everything to do with poetic devices.  I love alliteration and assonance (check out the first sentence of this paragraph) and there is no better example than a line from an old Bob Wills tune entitled "Across the Alley From the Alamo":  Across the alley from the Alamo, when the summer sun decides to settle low; a fly sings an Indian 'Hi-de-ho' to the people passing by.  There's a lyric that is, well, wonderfully lyrical.

Some time soon, we'll review the most insipid lyrics ever committed to paper, but I'd like to know what you think.  What are your nominations for the best line in a song.  For your contemplating pleasure, here's the Mills Brothers version (and the best version) of  "Across the Alley From the Alamo."

Maryland's All-Time Starting 9 (Well, 10)

Maryland Life magazine has published a story of mine in their most recent March/April issue entitled, "Maryland's Starting 10" which names a Maryland native at each position on the diamond for an all-time starting line-up.  It's not a starting 9 because I have included a designated hitter.  This story is not available on-line, but I urge everyone to run out and buy this issue, not because of my article (although, that's not a bad reason!), but for illustrator's Bob Novak's fantastic artwork.  Mr. Novak's has painted a dugout scene that includes the starting 10, which includes Lefty Grove on the mound, Babe Phelps behind the plate, Jimmie Foxx at first, 1890s star Cupid Childs at second, Cal Ripken at short, Frank "Home Run" Baker at third, and Brady Anderson, Al Kaline, and, of course, Babe Ruth in the outfield.  Harold Baines serves as the designated hitter.

Maryland could actually field a very respectable 25 man roster, especially for such a small state.  The rest of the pitching staff would include 20 game winners Steve Barber and Dave Boswell, as well as Bobby Mathews, who is credited with developing the spitball.  Rounding out the staff might be Gavin Floyd, Tommy Phoebus, Tommy Byrne, and Eddie Rommel, all Baltimore boys, as well as a trio of pitchers from right here in Williamsport:  Nick Adenhart, "Boots" Poffenberger, and Dave Cole .

Hal Keller would serve as our backup catcher, while his brother Charlie would serve as one of the extra outfielders.  Brian Jordan would be our 5th outfielder and our two extra infielders would be Bill Ripken and Mark Teixeira.

For a full (although not complete) list of Marylanders who made the majors, click here.  If you take the time to peruse this list, you'll see that there must be something about Maryland's lattitude that produces good pitchers!

Par for the Worse

It's been a while since I've played any golf and upon reflection, I know the reason why!  Click here for the full explanation which appears in the Augusta Free Press.