Derek Jeter says last night’s Hollywood ending – let’s face it, it doesn’t get any better than that – wasn’t the end. He says he won’t play shortstop anymore, but “Out of respect for the Red Sox, their fans and the rivalry, I’m going to DH” sometime this weekend.
Meaning his past – there really is no future anymore, it’s all past now – is in Joe Girardi’s hands.
Derek wants to play, Joe. So it’s up to you to do the right thing: Continue reading
I hated Derek Jeter. Hated him.
Not all the time, of course. How could anyone hate Derek Jeter all the time?
But you gotta understand … I’m a Mets fan, which meant that for six games a year (except for last year and this year, when it was four games, and 2000, when it was 11), I hated him. Continue reading
There’s a whole lot of dumb stuff making the rounds today.
For starters, there’s this whole kerfuffle about the Obama salute.
The president, you see, was carrying a cup of coffee yesterday morning when he arrived in New York aboard Marine One. That’s a helicopter, by the way, which means Obama has learned to press his tie against his belt when he walks down the steps so it doesn’t fly around, whip him a few times in the face and make him look silly. So there goes the left hand. Continue reading
The U.S. Air Force reversed course today, deciding that you really don’t have to believe in God to hop aboard a plane and drop bombs on bad guys.
Specifically, the Air Force decided that, going forward, airmen will be allowed to omit the words “So help me God” from their oath.
OMIGOD! Now that I’ve heard this, so help me God, I want to . . .
Crack open a beer and celebrate. The Air Force got it right. Continue reading
Just when I thought nothing in the world could be uglier than ISIS, the NFL season has begun. Yes, fans, it’s time for some serious violence on the home front.
You know it’s a lousy time for the National Football League when, instead of debating who’s better, you’re debating who’s worse . . .
The guy who did this to his 4-year-old son:
Or the guy who did this to his fiancée:
So the president of the United States went on television last night to tell us that 13 years haven’t been nearly enough, and we now have a whole new band of barbarians hellbent on killing us and we’ll be waging war against them for the foreseeable future, and then some.
That new group has lots of names, and I’m still trying to figure out exactly what to call them. Pretty much every newspaper and television station I’ve seen is calling them ISIS, which apparently is upsetting lots of women named Isis, not to mention that it’s the name of a great Dylan song (which is redundant) and I’m sure this isn’t what he had in mind. And, besides, the second S stands for Syria, which nobody really wants to think about very much. Continue reading
When I was a kid, like most boys, I had a fascination with guns. Not an obsession. Not an all-consuming passion. But certainly an interest. The fact is, even today, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a boy who never picks up a stick and pretends it’s a gun, or who never points straight out with his forefinger, lifts his thumb to the sky and then closes it.
Let’s not get into the sociological and psychological causative factors behind this phenomenon right now, because those are big words and I don’t really care. It’s just a fact: Boys like guns.
Girls like them too these days, because we teach our young women-to-be to be every bit as assertive as our future men. Even when they’re wearing pink shorts.
That’s a good thing. That’s how it is. Don’t like it? Shoot me.
Anyway, the point is . . . I get it. Kids like guns. Continue reading