A Blast at the Past
If his subject were the mindlessness of John Hinderaker or the meanness of Michelle Malkin or the mindless meanness of Ann Coulter, I'd never question the savvy and snarky TBogg, but then tonight he opted to write about baseball and how much better the All-Stars were way back when in 1965. When they played the game uphill in the snow in both halves of the inning.
Sure, that's one terrific 1965 NL team. Sure, this year Mark Redman is an All-Star, and he might not last as the Mets fifth starter, and the Mets have tried Jose Lima twice in that role and he always pitched so badly you had to assume it's because he really wanted to get back into the arms, or something, of his wife.
But even on that '65 NL club, there's Ed Kranepool, whose claim to fame is he was an original Met, which is kind of like saying you were one of the original engineers on the Tacoma Narrows Bridge project. The AL team from '65 has even more dead weight, some of it starting: Earl Battey and Felix Mantilla aren't exactly Hall of Famers, plus Battey would have just given Chris Berman one more chance to come up with one of his stupid nicknames.
Currently baseball is in a transitional period, as one era of stars might not be putting up the first half numbers that seem to get one to the All-Star game anymore (I'm looking at you, Gary Matthews, Jr.). That means sure HoF'ers like Mike Piazza, Greg Maddux, Barry Bonds (you can be in the HoF and indicted, no?), Randy Johnson, Craig Biggio, John Smoltz, Frank Thomas and Roger Clemens weren't in Pittsburgh tonight. Who can say for sure that a David Wright or Johan Santana or even an Albert Pujols will make it to the Hall? Someone can always go Dwight Gooden or Tony Oliva on you and be worth less than a box of their own Topps cards.
It's just in general the "golden days of your yore" thinking always drives me nuts. I'd like to think there's something to look forward to, and I'm the one not having kids partially because the world's future depresses me so.
Not to mention I figure if you take away the 1965 team's greenies, who knows how good they would be?
Sure, that's one terrific 1965 NL team. Sure, this year Mark Redman is an All-Star, and he might not last as the Mets fifth starter, and the Mets have tried Jose Lima twice in that role and he always pitched so badly you had to assume it's because he really wanted to get back into the arms, or something, of his wife.
But even on that '65 NL club, there's Ed Kranepool, whose claim to fame is he was an original Met, which is kind of like saying you were one of the original engineers on the Tacoma Narrows Bridge project. The AL team from '65 has even more dead weight, some of it starting: Earl Battey and Felix Mantilla aren't exactly Hall of Famers, plus Battey would have just given Chris Berman one more chance to come up with one of his stupid nicknames.
Currently baseball is in a transitional period, as one era of stars might not be putting up the first half numbers that seem to get one to the All-Star game anymore (I'm looking at you, Gary Matthews, Jr.). That means sure HoF'ers like Mike Piazza, Greg Maddux, Barry Bonds (you can be in the HoF and indicted, no?), Randy Johnson, Craig Biggio, John Smoltz, Frank Thomas and Roger Clemens weren't in Pittsburgh tonight. Who can say for sure that a David Wright or Johan Santana or even an Albert Pujols will make it to the Hall? Someone can always go Dwight Gooden or Tony Oliva on you and be worth less than a box of their own Topps cards.
It's just in general the "golden days of your yore" thinking always drives me nuts. I'd like to think there's something to look forward to, and I'm the one not having kids partially because the world's future depresses me so.
Not to mention I figure if you take away the 1965 team's greenies, who knows how good they would be?
posted by George at 11:02 PM
1 Comments:
I read TBogg's post before I came over here and I knew, you'd have soemthing to say about it. Not disappointed.
I grew up in Chicago and spent many a fine afternoon in the friedly confines watching Mr. Banks and Mr. Santo and the crew. My best friend was a Cardinals fan so when the Gibson boy was scheduled to deliver heat against the Cubbies, you knew where to find us.
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