Evolution does some really silly things and sometimes produces species so specialized that they are doomed to extinction.
Baseball is evolving into a 1% sport; sort of like polo. Stadia are built with fewer and fewer seats and more skyboxes. Ticket prices are now on a level on par with a mortgage payment and you can’t watch it on TV without paying extra money on an already expensive (and useless) cable bill.
So the sport is alienating itself from the base on which it was once built: “Joe Six Pack.”
I’m voting for Putin this time around.
When you have a world-spanning organization, getting consensus is difficult.
Ignoring the elephant in the room.
My metabolism is so slow that my second wind kicks in about an hour after I stop running.
I remember when there were 16 major league baseball teams: 8 in the National League and 8 in the American League. The winner of each league played each other in the World Series.
There were no wild cards, divisional playoffs or other post-season games.
Today, baseball is where the boys of summer play the October Classic in November.
One of the sports statistics not kept is Dollars per Pitch or Dollars per At-Bat or Dollars per error committed.
A guy makes hundreds of thousands of dollars a day just for showing up at work and has to charge for an autograph. Unless it’s some charity event, I don’t get it.
This reminds me of the joke about a psychiatrist and a patient. The shrink is showing the patient a series of ink-slot abstract figures and asking him what they look like to him.
The man responds, “A naked man. A naked woman. A man an woman having intercourse.” and so on..
The psychiatrist tells the man, “I think you’re obsessed with sex.”
The man replies, “I’m obsessed? You’re the one with the dirty pictures!”
Art. What do children know about art?
There was a time when we lived in an apartment that had a very big “backyard” area adjacent to a busy road. There was a fence separating the play area from the road. We told our son not to climb the fence.
So one day we saw him on the other side. He was back by the time we got out. We told him again not to climb the fence. He told us, “I didn’t climb it; I went under it.”
Remarkably, he became an engineer instead of a lawyer.