The Sports Maunderer recently wrote a post about the Yankees/Twins game 2, and why we watch baseball. Go ahead and read it again; almost to the word, it could be applied to Yankees/Angels game 2.
Holy Crap.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
ALCS!
The Yankees haven't gotten here in five years.
Five years ago, no one had heard of Barack Obama.
Five years ago, iPhones didn't exist (the horror!)
Five years ago, there was nothing wrong with the Sports Maunderer's knee yet.
Five years ago, Friday nights at home did not regularly include an extra Crowde(r)d table.
Five years ago, if someone said Teixiera aloud, I would have said... "I don't speak Spanish".
Five years ago, the Sports Maunderer had, thankfully, never been in Pittsburgh.
Five years ago, the Sports Maunderer had not seen Casablanca. That doesn't have much to do with anything but still.
Five years ago, we were at war in Iraq and Afghanistan. (Wait, what? We still are?!)
Five years ago, the national debt was around 7 trillion dollars. It is now closer to 11 trillion dollars (but hey, whats a few more trillion!)
Five years ago, the Patriots won their most recent Super Bowl.
Five years ago, Michael Vick... well, yeah, Michael Vick.
Five years ago, no one had heard of Tim Tebow (*gaspshockhorrorgruesomedeath*)
Five years ago, Gary Sheffield was on the Yankees.
Five years ago, so was Kevin Bronw.
And Jason Giambi.
And, amazingly enough, Bernie Williams.
Five years ago, it all ended in heartbreak. Hopefully that seems as bizarre and unique and unable to be repeated as everything else on ths list.
On a completely random note, the Phillies' victory this NLDS is the fifth time in the history of the National League that a World Series champ has won a postseason series the following year. Forget repeating--just winning a series the following year. Five times! Off the top of my head I can name five times the Yankees alone repeated as World Champions, and the entire National League has only won a series the year after five times! (For those wondering, it was the Phillies, the Braves of 95-96, the Reds of 75-76, the Giants of 21-22, and the Cubs of 1907-1908.)
Holy schmoli. Wow. WOW.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Five years ago, no one had heard of Barack Obama.
Five years ago, iPhones didn't exist (the horror!)
Five years ago, there was nothing wrong with the Sports Maunderer's knee yet.
Five years ago, Friday nights at home did not regularly include an extra Crowde(r)d table.
Five years ago, if someone said Teixiera aloud, I would have said... "I don't speak Spanish".
Five years ago, the Sports Maunderer had, thankfully, never been in Pittsburgh.
Five years ago, the Sports Maunderer had not seen Casablanca. That doesn't have much to do with anything but still.
Five years ago, we were at war in Iraq and Afghanistan. (Wait, what? We still are?!)
Five years ago, the national debt was around 7 trillion dollars. It is now closer to 11 trillion dollars (but hey, whats a few more trillion!)
Five years ago, the Patriots won their most recent Super Bowl.
Five years ago, Michael Vick... well, yeah, Michael Vick.
Five years ago, no one had heard of Tim Tebow (*gaspshockhorrorgruesomedeath*)
Five years ago, Gary Sheffield was on the Yankees.
Five years ago, so was Kevin Bronw.
And Jason Giambi.
And, amazingly enough, Bernie Williams.
Five years ago, it all ended in heartbreak. Hopefully that seems as bizarre and unique and unable to be repeated as everything else on ths list.
On a completely random note, the Phillies' victory this NLDS is the fifth time in the history of the National League that a World Series champ has won a postseason series the following year. Forget repeating--just winning a series the following year. Five times! Off the top of my head I can name five times the Yankees alone repeated as World Champions, and the entire National League has only won a series the year after five times! (For those wondering, it was the Phillies, the Braves of 95-96, the Reds of 75-76, the Giants of 21-22, and the Cubs of 1907-1908.)
Holy schmoli. Wow. WOW.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Friday, October 9, 2009
This is why...
...we watch the game.
People always ask why we play the game. And there are plenty of reasons why. But why do we watch? This is why. A-Rod, Teixiera, Jeter, Burnett, Dave Robertson (who?), Girardi... The look in the eyes of a generation's greatest player when all of the sudden you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this guy, who couldn't buy a hit in the postseason for five years, was absolutely, without a doubt, going to hit a home run. Unless they walked him.
And they didn't walk him.
The Sports Maunderer has had a pretty crappy six months. He's been manipulated, lied to, had rods stuck in his chest, his insides rearranged, and it is still excruciating to reach down for his Pringles. He had to leave the greatest house in the world to go to a city he couldn't care much less about, hours away from everyone he could very much care less about. To add insult to injury, a new blog opened up with possibly wittier, more intelligent and--amazingly enough--more elitist authors.
But A-Rod stepped into the batter's box and the Sports Maunderer might as well have never heard of surgery, psychopathic emotional denial, Pittsburgh, or obliquely angled opposable digits. Then the smoothest, most powerful swing this side of Babe Ruth and Ken Griffey Jr. launched a ball into the night, and everything was alive again. Soon after Dave Robertson stood alone on the mound, much as we all stand alone, only to be twice saved by the friendly glove of the spectacular Mark Teixiera. If that isn't an analogy for leaning on your distant loved ones, I don't know what is.
And then Mark turned into Reggie Jackson, delivering on the big bucks thrown in his direction, and the question "why do we watch?" dissapeared into the cloudy (yeah, Pittsburgh kind of ruins poetic description) night. This is why. We endure a long season of tortuous, sinuous, treacherous twists of fate, the ups and downs of holding onto your team even when they are 15-17 and look more like the Pirates than the fabled Bronx Bombers... because in the end, holding on is more valuable than you can dream whilst undergoing the dog days of summer. It's why we get surgery, it's why we hold onto reality even when those around us can't, it's why we call home instead of going to a beer-soaked social function. It's why we keep writing even when other blogs are more obnoxious and esoteric and knowledgable (okay, so i'm joking a bit on that point. But not the others!)
It's why we believe in God, and it's why God is a baseball fan. He knows a little something about comeback wins, too. No other sport could produce this. no other sport would dare to try.
This is why we watch.
~The Sports Maunderer~
People always ask why we play the game. And there are plenty of reasons why. But why do we watch? This is why. A-Rod, Teixiera, Jeter, Burnett, Dave Robertson (who?), Girardi... The look in the eyes of a generation's greatest player when all of the sudden you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this guy, who couldn't buy a hit in the postseason for five years, was absolutely, without a doubt, going to hit a home run. Unless they walked him.
And they didn't walk him.
The Sports Maunderer has had a pretty crappy six months. He's been manipulated, lied to, had rods stuck in his chest, his insides rearranged, and it is still excruciating to reach down for his Pringles. He had to leave the greatest house in the world to go to a city he couldn't care much less about, hours away from everyone he could very much care less about. To add insult to injury, a new blog opened up with possibly wittier, more intelligent and--amazingly enough--more elitist authors.
But A-Rod stepped into the batter's box and the Sports Maunderer might as well have never heard of surgery, psychopathic emotional denial, Pittsburgh, or obliquely angled opposable digits. Then the smoothest, most powerful swing this side of Babe Ruth and Ken Griffey Jr. launched a ball into the night, and everything was alive again. Soon after Dave Robertson stood alone on the mound, much as we all stand alone, only to be twice saved by the friendly glove of the spectacular Mark Teixiera. If that isn't an analogy for leaning on your distant loved ones, I don't know what is.
And then Mark turned into Reggie Jackson, delivering on the big bucks thrown in his direction, and the question "why do we watch?" dissapeared into the cloudy (yeah, Pittsburgh kind of ruins poetic description) night. This is why. We endure a long season of tortuous, sinuous, treacherous twists of fate, the ups and downs of holding onto your team even when they are 15-17 and look more like the Pirates than the fabled Bronx Bombers... because in the end, holding on is more valuable than you can dream whilst undergoing the dog days of summer. It's why we get surgery, it's why we hold onto reality even when those around us can't, it's why we call home instead of going to a beer-soaked social function. It's why we keep writing even when other blogs are more obnoxious and esoteric and knowledgable (okay, so i'm joking a bit on that point. But not the others!)
It's why we believe in God, and it's why God is a baseball fan. He knows a little something about comeback wins, too. No other sport could produce this. no other sport would dare to try.
This is why we watch.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Playoff Preview
It has been a while. It has also been a while since the Yankees were in the playoffs. Oh the symmetry. But to prove I'm not a Northeastern Elitist Jackanapes, the Sports Maunderer will give a playoff preview covering the whole league. More or less. Maybe. Well. We'll see how much AAAA I can take.
Let's get the boring stuff out of the way first:
The National League
Dodgers surprise everyone and get to the World Series.
Okay. National League dealt with.
American League
I would take any American League team over any National League team, with the possible exception of the Twins, who just don't seem to match up well with anyone. But then, they went 17-4 to finish the season, so who knows? Regardless, there are two teams here that are worldbeaters, and then there are the two teams who aren't. The NL's only hope is that these two teams match up for a seven game classic, exhaust themselves, injure themselves, and get to the World Series with a "we already practically won our World Series" syndrome a la the 2003 Yankees. Onto the Matchups:
Red Sox/Angels:
The Red Sox have a terrifying starting rotation. Beckett, Lester, Bucholz, even Matzusaka isn't bad. Well, okay, he is, but he's better than the other fourth starters (Some teams don't even seem to have fourth starters, but we'll leave Joba and Chad Gaudin alone for the moment). The Angels have John Lackey. He's good, but he isn't BeckettLesterBucholz good.
For crying out loud, though, Jon Lester is starting game 1? Seriously? I mean, I understand the notion that you have to reward success and he had quite the season, but seriously. Who would you rather be facing in the postseason? Lester or Beckett? Lester is terrific, but Beckett is, and I hate saying this... Josh Beckett. In the postseason.
The Angels have a good lineup. Actually, they have the best lineup this side of the Bronx. That won't be enough. The Red Sox kill the Angels like the Yankees kill the Twins. Speaking of which.
Yankees/Twins:
If there is any justice in the world, the Yankees will handily win this series. They have a better rotation, a better bullpen, a way better lineup, and more rest. The Twins have a better catcher. Now, granted, the difference between Joe Mauer and Jorge Posada is roughly equivalent to the difference between the Empire State Building and a Lego brick, but still. The Yankees should destroy the Twins, emphasis on should. And you should root for them to do so, also, because the Twins would get killed in the next series even if they managed to win this one, and the postseason would be another cakewalk for the Red Sox. Unless you are actually a Red Sox fan, you can't want that. At the very least, you want the seven-game-epic-series-aiding-the-NL-winner scenario laid out earlier.
Yankees/Red Sox:
I don't know if I can take another of these, but it does seem a bit inevitable. And weirdly enough, I might actually be rooting for the Red Sox to get here. The Yankees have won 9 of 10 from the Red Sox. The Angels have beaten the Yankees about 2,230,730,828 times in the past few years. The Yankees actually match up well against the Red Sox. Sabathia and Burnett and Petitte are more than capable of shutting down their surprisingly mediocre line-up, and for all their balleyhooed success this year, the Red Sox starters have done surprisingly not well against the Yankees, all things considered. So the Yankees, again, should win. Should.
World Series:
Yankees/Dodgers
You should root for this to happen if you have a pulse. If, sans a horse in the race, you root against this scenario, you irrationally hate big cities. Yankees. Dodgers. Manny. A-Rod. Torre. TORRE! The most storied franchise in sports history and another franchise with quite a story of its own. The Yankees should (should) crush the Dodgers, but who cares? The intrigue alone makes it worth rooting for this. My mouth is watering. And not because I'm hungry and waiting to get a bagel at Einstein's. Well, that might have something to do with it. But mostly, I just can't wait for postseaon baseball.
It's been a while.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Let's get the boring stuff out of the way first:
The National League
Dodgers surprise everyone and get to the World Series.
Okay. National League dealt with.
American League
I would take any American League team over any National League team, with the possible exception of the Twins, who just don't seem to match up well with anyone. But then, they went 17-4 to finish the season, so who knows? Regardless, there are two teams here that are worldbeaters, and then there are the two teams who aren't. The NL's only hope is that these two teams match up for a seven game classic, exhaust themselves, injure themselves, and get to the World Series with a "we already practically won our World Series" syndrome a la the 2003 Yankees. Onto the Matchups:
Red Sox/Angels:
The Red Sox have a terrifying starting rotation. Beckett, Lester, Bucholz, even Matzusaka isn't bad. Well, okay, he is, but he's better than the other fourth starters (Some teams don't even seem to have fourth starters, but we'll leave Joba and Chad Gaudin alone for the moment). The Angels have John Lackey. He's good, but he isn't BeckettLesterBucholz good.
For crying out loud, though, Jon Lester is starting game 1? Seriously? I mean, I understand the notion that you have to reward success and he had quite the season, but seriously. Who would you rather be facing in the postseason? Lester or Beckett? Lester is terrific, but Beckett is, and I hate saying this... Josh Beckett. In the postseason.
The Angels have a good lineup. Actually, they have the best lineup this side of the Bronx. That won't be enough. The Red Sox kill the Angels like the Yankees kill the Twins. Speaking of which.
Yankees/Twins:
If there is any justice in the world, the Yankees will handily win this series. They have a better rotation, a better bullpen, a way better lineup, and more rest. The Twins have a better catcher. Now, granted, the difference between Joe Mauer and Jorge Posada is roughly equivalent to the difference between the Empire State Building and a Lego brick, but still. The Yankees should destroy the Twins, emphasis on should. And you should root for them to do so, also, because the Twins would get killed in the next series even if they managed to win this one, and the postseason would be another cakewalk for the Red Sox. Unless you are actually a Red Sox fan, you can't want that. At the very least, you want the seven-game-epic-series-aiding-the-NL-winner scenario laid out earlier.
Yankees/Red Sox:
I don't know if I can take another of these, but it does seem a bit inevitable. And weirdly enough, I might actually be rooting for the Red Sox to get here. The Yankees have won 9 of 10 from the Red Sox. The Angels have beaten the Yankees about 2,230,730,828 times in the past few years. The Yankees actually match up well against the Red Sox. Sabathia and Burnett and Petitte are more than capable of shutting down their surprisingly mediocre line-up, and for all their balleyhooed success this year, the Red Sox starters have done surprisingly not well against the Yankees, all things considered. So the Yankees, again, should win. Should.
World Series:
Yankees/Dodgers
You should root for this to happen if you have a pulse. If, sans a horse in the race, you root against this scenario, you irrationally hate big cities. Yankees. Dodgers. Manny. A-Rod. Torre. TORRE! The most storied franchise in sports history and another franchise with quite a story of its own. The Yankees should (should) crush the Dodgers, but who cares? The intrigue alone makes it worth rooting for this. My mouth is watering. And not because I'm hungry and waiting to get a bagel at Einstein's. Well, that might have something to do with it. But mostly, I just can't wait for postseaon baseball.
It's been a while.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Not Quite 4-0, But Not Bad
This one belonged to the lineup.
I must say. While I hate prognosticating in such a fashion, the Yanks can win it with the bats when they need to, and the arms when they need to. This augurs well for them. Cliche? Yes. but you don't have to do anything new to win a World Series. You just have to do it well.
Oh, and John Smoltz is a Great Pitcher again. I have to wonder if guys who pitched their whole careers in the NL should have asterisks next to their names in the Hall of Fame. Seems more effective than steroids.
~The Sports Maunderer~
I must say. While I hate prognosticating in such a fashion, the Yanks can win it with the bats when they need to, and the arms when they need to. This augurs well for them. Cliche? Yes. but you don't have to do anything new to win a World Series. You just have to do it well.
Oh, and John Smoltz is a Great Pitcher again. I have to wonder if guys who pitched their whole careers in the NL should have asterisks next to their names in the Hall of Fame. Seems more effective than steroids.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
I can't speak Spanish, but I can speak...
Sometimes, in the Sports Maunderer’s less stilted moments (of which there aren’t many), he wonders why he is sitting there, watching SportsCenter. He wonders why he watches PTI. He wonders why on a perfectly fine day he watches the Yankees play the Rays instead of throwing a disc or a football or, yes, a baseball. There isn’t necessarily a very good answer. Does it matter that he knows Bill Mueller once won a batting title or that Juan Gonzalez won the MVP in 1997 in a blatant robbery from Alex Rodriguez, who batted .358 that year (that’s right, Alex. .358. Remember those days)?
What is the point of this not-very-widely-read blog? At its absolute peak, it might have five or six people read a particular entry. Two or three will comment, likely. Besides the omnipresent possibility of a feminine explosion and/or “Danny-boy” moment, which is worth a post all on its own, there doesn’t seem to be much purpose much of the time.
But it occurs to any thinking individual (all fourteen of them) that in fact, sports is more than exercise for the player or spectacle for the fan. And I don’t mean it is a way of life or some humanist, new-age expression of the inner self struggling for deification. It isn’t even ordained by Xenu. Well, I don’t think anyway. I haven’t gone on the cruise ship with the last order of secrets. I digress.
What is sports? I do not mean what are sports, green-squiggly line be sent to Sheole. I know what they are. I mean what is sports. Let’s have a look.
It has its own sphere of existence. The dichotomy between those who play versus those who do not play is tantamount to those who live in a country versus those who study a country from without. Sometimes the people who don’t live in it can be more objective and bring a superior eye to the whole show. Buster Olney, Tim Kurkjian and Mike Greenberg all bring more wit and intelligence to the realm than do Eric Young (he of the migraine inducing voice), Tino Martinez (he of the sleep-inducing voice) or Rick Sutcliff (he of the suicide inducing voice).
But at the same time, to truly feel the tension of a big moment, some kind of experience helps. Most people who enjoy watching sports have at some point in their life enjoyed playing them. It has different levels of familiarity, and you can be familiar with personal experience or without.
It has its own vocabulary. “Cover Two”. “Infield Fly Rule”. “Charging” versus “Blocking” fouls. Some of the terms even find their way into the quotidian lexicon of those who are so distant from the realm of sport that they have the temerity to ask what roughing the quarterback entails. “Strikeout”, for instance, is a common term from business meetings to relationships. The intelligent reader—and that includes everyone reading, unless The Sports Maunderer has lurking readers who never comment and don't understand the maxim "B equals failure"—can see where this is headed.
Sports is a language. I can’t speak Spanish. But can you speak sport? It might seem trivial but without knowing this particular language, I would have no friends. And it isn’t because badminton is holding The Sports Maunderer and Post Hill together (although, who knows, maybe it is). But sports is the hello language. It’s the “I know nobody in this room… but that guy is wearing a Red Sox jersey. Let’s go make fun of him and see what happens.”
Alright. Bad example.
“I know nobody here… but when B**** F**** throws another interception, I can make a quiet comment about how this is nothing new, and everyone who knows anything about sports will slowly nod their head in agreement. Now we’re practically best friends.”
You can also argue about sports without any need to worry about hurting someone’s feelings or pissing them off. In fact, if you don’t feel comfortable arguing about sports with someone, walk the other way. That friendship/relationship is going nowhere. This is rare, but it happens.
In fact, one could probably blame all of society’s ills on those who are either sports-illiterate or sports-belligerent. Mothers-in-law, bad girlfriends, bullies—if they would just sit down and debate the finer points of the Triangle Offense or Gary Sheffield’s method of catching pop-flies, no one would have to worry about awkward visits, bad dates or getting punched in the mouth.
As a further example, bad fathers-in-law can also come out of this. If you can’t talk sports with a potential father-in-law… make sure he never becomes more than a potential. What are you going to *do* for the rest of your life if not talk sports with your father-in-law for a few minutes each day? Discussing French Butter certainly won’t do. If they hate Derek Jeter and think A-rod is a Ballplayer™, that’s fine. Heck, that’s wonderful. It means they have the sports independence to go against the grain (don’t you love the hypocrisy in that particular cliché? I find it extremely bemusing). It helps if they’re Italian, too, but that helps everything, so let’s put that aside.
Opinionated=fine.
What isn’t fine? Being so attached to Kobe Bryant that one deludes oneself into believing he is a facilitator. Look, Kobe is a fantastic player. He is the best scorer since Jordan and probably one of the five best scorers ever. Maybe even top two among all time shooting guards. But the guy is a selfish player. Period. He played selfishly last year and they lost, so everyone cried “SELFISH SHAME SHAME SHAME SELFISH”. He played selfishly this year but the Lakers were so overwhelmingly talented that it didn’t matter and they won anyway (thanks to a little help from KG’s knee). Anyone who thinks the difference in the two years was Kobe’s “maturation” is a bona fide imbiber of Kobe Kool-Aid. Had Kevin Garnett not gotten injured, the Celtics would have once again shown the world that a team is better than a Kobe. But of course, certain people refuse to admit this. And it isn't even so much their inability to listen to reason that tips you off as to the fact that this is a bad confabulation-buddy. It's the fact that even disagreeing with them could be seen as an attack on their very person. And this is bad. And you never would have known it if it hadn't been for Kobe Bryant. (So he IS good for something other than puppet commercials!)
And there you go. Without the language of sport, you might have gotten stuck with a lousy father-in-law. That would have sucked, wouldn’t it? Now what other language helps you determine something like that, huh? Speaking Farsi sure as heck won’t get you marital clues. And unless you move to Iran (which The Sports Maunderer does not advocate), it won’t help you meet any new people, either.
To get anywhere with another being you have to share a language, and English just isn't good enough. Otherwise, no matter how badly they need your help with calc homework, you’ll get nowhere. Sports, of course, isn’t the only language one can speak to a new acquaintance. But it is certainly a good one. And really, if you can’t maunder about sports with someone, what are you going to do with them? If they aren't impressed by your knowledge of El Duque's career postseason stats, to Sheole with them, too.
~The Sports Maunderer~
What is the point of this not-very-widely-read blog? At its absolute peak, it might have five or six people read a particular entry. Two or three will comment, likely. Besides the omnipresent possibility of a feminine explosion and/or “Danny-boy” moment, which is worth a post all on its own, there doesn’t seem to be much purpose much of the time.
But it occurs to any thinking individual (all fourteen of them) that in fact, sports is more than exercise for the player or spectacle for the fan. And I don’t mean it is a way of life or some humanist, new-age expression of the inner self struggling for deification. It isn’t even ordained by Xenu. Well, I don’t think anyway. I haven’t gone on the cruise ship with the last order of secrets. I digress.
What is sports? I do not mean what are sports, green-squiggly line be sent to Sheole. I know what they are. I mean what is sports. Let’s have a look.
It has its own sphere of existence. The dichotomy between those who play versus those who do not play is tantamount to those who live in a country versus those who study a country from without. Sometimes the people who don’t live in it can be more objective and bring a superior eye to the whole show. Buster Olney, Tim Kurkjian and Mike Greenberg all bring more wit and intelligence to the realm than do Eric Young (he of the migraine inducing voice), Tino Martinez (he of the sleep-inducing voice) or Rick Sutcliff (he of the suicide inducing voice).
But at the same time, to truly feel the tension of a big moment, some kind of experience helps. Most people who enjoy watching sports have at some point in their life enjoyed playing them. It has different levels of familiarity, and you can be familiar with personal experience or without.
It has its own vocabulary. “Cover Two”. “Infield Fly Rule”. “Charging” versus “Blocking” fouls. Some of the terms even find their way into the quotidian lexicon of those who are so distant from the realm of sport that they have the temerity to ask what roughing the quarterback entails. “Strikeout”, for instance, is a common term from business meetings to relationships. The intelligent reader—and that includes everyone reading, unless The Sports Maunderer has lurking readers who never comment and don't understand the maxim "B equals failure"—can see where this is headed.
Sports is a language. I can’t speak Spanish. But can you speak sport? It might seem trivial but without knowing this particular language, I would have no friends. And it isn’t because badminton is holding The Sports Maunderer and Post Hill together (although, who knows, maybe it is). But sports is the hello language. It’s the “I know nobody in this room… but that guy is wearing a Red Sox jersey. Let’s go make fun of him and see what happens.”
Alright. Bad example.
“I know nobody here… but when B**** F**** throws another interception, I can make a quiet comment about how this is nothing new, and everyone who knows anything about sports will slowly nod their head in agreement. Now we’re practically best friends.”
You can also argue about sports without any need to worry about hurting someone’s feelings or pissing them off. In fact, if you don’t feel comfortable arguing about sports with someone, walk the other way. That friendship/relationship is going nowhere. This is rare, but it happens.
In fact, one could probably blame all of society’s ills on those who are either sports-illiterate or sports-belligerent. Mothers-in-law, bad girlfriends, bullies—if they would just sit down and debate the finer points of the Triangle Offense or Gary Sheffield’s method of catching pop-flies, no one would have to worry about awkward visits, bad dates or getting punched in the mouth.
As a further example, bad fathers-in-law can also come out of this. If you can’t talk sports with a potential father-in-law… make sure he never becomes more than a potential. What are you going to *do* for the rest of your life if not talk sports with your father-in-law for a few minutes each day? Discussing French Butter certainly won’t do. If they hate Derek Jeter and think A-rod is a Ballplayer™, that’s fine. Heck, that’s wonderful. It means they have the sports independence to go against the grain (don’t you love the hypocrisy in that particular cliché? I find it extremely bemusing). It helps if they’re Italian, too, but that helps everything, so let’s put that aside.
Opinionated=fine.
What isn’t fine? Being so attached to Kobe Bryant that one deludes oneself into believing he is a facilitator. Look, Kobe is a fantastic player. He is the best scorer since Jordan and probably one of the five best scorers ever. Maybe even top two among all time shooting guards. But the guy is a selfish player. Period. He played selfishly last year and they lost, so everyone cried “SELFISH SHAME SHAME SHAME SELFISH”. He played selfishly this year but the Lakers were so overwhelmingly talented that it didn’t matter and they won anyway (thanks to a little help from KG’s knee). Anyone who thinks the difference in the two years was Kobe’s “maturation” is a bona fide imbiber of Kobe Kool-Aid. Had Kevin Garnett not gotten injured, the Celtics would have once again shown the world that a team is better than a Kobe. But of course, certain people refuse to admit this. And it isn't even so much their inability to listen to reason that tips you off as to the fact that this is a bad confabulation-buddy. It's the fact that even disagreeing with them could be seen as an attack on their very person. And this is bad. And you never would have known it if it hadn't been for Kobe Bryant. (So he IS good for something other than puppet commercials!)
And there you go. Without the language of sport, you might have gotten stuck with a lousy father-in-law. That would have sucked, wouldn’t it? Now what other language helps you determine something like that, huh? Speaking Farsi sure as heck won’t get you marital clues. And unless you move to Iran (which The Sports Maunderer does not advocate), it won’t help you meet any new people, either.
To get anywhere with another being you have to share a language, and English just isn't good enough. Otherwise, no matter how badly they need your help with calc homework, you’ll get nowhere. Sports, of course, isn’t the only language one can speak to a new acquaintance. But it is certainly a good one. And really, if you can’t maunder about sports with someone, what are you going to do with them? If they aren't impressed by your knowledge of El Duque's career postseason stats, to Sheole with them, too.
~The Sports Maunderer~
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