We didn’t start the fire, until we did
The story in my local paper carries the headline:
And no, this is not about the missplaced comma in the hed. This is about a bunch of religious wackos defending their right to endanger children. In my country. In my state. In my county.
Rockland County (NY) Executive Ed Day recently announced that “the state [has] given the county permission to inspect 53 private schools, mostly in Ramapo and Spring Valley, for fire and building code compliance.”
That’s good, right? When a school goes up in flames … or collapses due to faulty construction … that’s a bad thing, right? We try to make sure that doesn’t happen, right? Continue reading
Life can be unfair sometimes, and it’s hard to stir up a whole lot of empathy for a guy who in a couple of years will be making more — much more — in a month than I’ve made in my lifetime …
But Jeurys Familia got screwed. Continue reading
I know, there’s a lot of things that need fixing. Ebola. ISIS. Global warming. Racism. Sexism. Rush Limbaugh. But saving the world can come later. First we have to fix baseball. Because priorities.
We’re coming off a good World Series, and a great Game Seven. The baseball season ended with the tying run on third and a kid named Madison Bumgarner standing on the mound, proving that you don’t have to have a great baseball name to be a great baseball player.
So let’s hear it for the World Champion Giants, the last team standing. They deserve to wear the crown. And hooray for the Royals, too. The Little Engine That Could came oh-so-close. Continue reading
Baseball is the greatest game on earth. It isn’t perfect – it would be if you didn’t have to refinance your home to take the wife and kids to the ballpark, and if they had a better selection of beer, and if they played the blues between innings instead of those hideous pop tunes – but, hey, it’s awfully damn close.
And tonight the greatest game on earth gets its signature moment, its pinnacle, it’s Ray Charles singing Georgia on My Mind:
Game Seven of the World Series.
A season that began on the first day of April will end tonight, seven months and some 175 games later. One game, winner take all. One guy gets to sip champagne. The other guy goes home and cries in his Bud. It doesn’t get any better than that.
Too bad nobody will be watching. Continue reading
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