My mate, Lenny, and I spent a whole spring training season in all of Florida during the mash brothers season and the Selig Era, posting a small sticker to the urinal posts in every restroom
at every ball park we entered that read "Bud Slig Memorial Fountain."
Wow. Loved that. The truth and scale of it, the degree it validates much of my thinking. Having had great disdain for the game for most of my life, I missed out on the Griffey years when we first moved to Seattle, but I became a major fan for two reasons: easing David James Duncan’s Brothers K (my favorite book ever Andreas a LOT) and raising two kids which coincided nicely with the Mariners’ 116 wins in 2001. Despite “the truth” of your essay, I was adamantly opposed to the steroid-driven home runs, wondering how thoroughly imbued The Mariners were, hoping, hoping,,hoping we were pure. If you can, tell me Brett Boone was innocent (but I don’t think you can). More importantly, do I need to wonder about Cal Raleigh? We so want to believe what we see.
Not sure why, but I received Sports Illustrated for years as a teen but never read a thing, only looked at the pictures (and secretly hoped I’d appear in their tiny hometown hero’s section). I finally discovered the back page essays, by Rick Reilly, I think it was, through a look at Jose Conseco who apparently has a pool surrounded by statues of himself. That essay made me a regular reader because of the truths told, much like yours.
One thing to factor in is that by the 1980s — the infamous "Me!" decade — our moral compass had lost its fix (to never be recovered). Postmodernism and the deconstruction of institutions that began in the 1960s broke our faith, made us cynical, and turned us inwards. We worship Self and Gain — let the devil take the hindmost.
That baseball survives in any recognizable form is something of a miracle.
I'm by no means a Canseco fan but I'm glad he did that. I had soured on MLB following the 1994 strike, and the Home Run Farce of 1998 did not excite me one bit (which put me in the minority). I finally got back into baseball when my team (Phillies) had a good run during the late 2000s, but even with that I've never followed the game quite the same way as I did before 1994.
My mate, Lenny, and I spent a whole spring training season in all of Florida during the mash brothers season and the Selig Era, posting a small sticker to the urinal posts in every restroom
at every ball park we entered that read "Bud Slig Memorial Fountain."
Leon, Palm Beach County, Florida
Wow. Loved that. The truth and scale of it, the degree it validates much of my thinking. Having had great disdain for the game for most of my life, I missed out on the Griffey years when we first moved to Seattle, but I became a major fan for two reasons: easing David James Duncan’s Brothers K (my favorite book ever Andreas a LOT) and raising two kids which coincided nicely with the Mariners’ 116 wins in 2001. Despite “the truth” of your essay, I was adamantly opposed to the steroid-driven home runs, wondering how thoroughly imbued The Mariners were, hoping, hoping,,hoping we were pure. If you can, tell me Brett Boone was innocent (but I don’t think you can). More importantly, do I need to wonder about Cal Raleigh? We so want to believe what we see.
Not sure why, but I received Sports Illustrated for years as a teen but never read a thing, only looked at the pictures (and secretly hoped I’d appear in their tiny hometown hero’s section). I finally discovered the back page essays, by Rick Reilly, I think it was, through a look at Jose Conseco who apparently has a pool surrounded by statues of himself. That essay made me a regular reader because of the truths told, much like yours.
One thing to factor in is that by the 1980s — the infamous "Me!" decade — our moral compass had lost its fix (to never be recovered). Postmodernism and the deconstruction of institutions that began in the 1960s broke our faith, made us cynical, and turned us inwards. We worship Self and Gain — let the devil take the hindmost.
That baseball survives in any recognizable form is something of a miracle.
Yes, great point!
You nailed it with this piece.
I'm by no means a Canseco fan but I'm glad he did that. I had soured on MLB following the 1994 strike, and the Home Run Farce of 1998 did not excite me one bit (which put me in the minority). I finally got back into baseball when my team (Phillies) had a good run during the late 2000s, but even with that I've never followed the game quite the same way as I did before 1994.