Meet me in Saint Louis

Tonight marks the first Cub-Cardinal game of the 2004 season.  The teams play four times in St. Louis through Monday, and I believe follow that up with three in Chicago in mid-May.

I haven't had any encounters with cardinals since the window banger at my sister's home just outside St. Louis, so I have no witty metaphors that would lead me to predict how this series will play out.  The cardinals have struggled at home, while the Cubs have been OK on the road.  However, I noticed today that over the last few seasons the Cubs are only 5-25 in St. Louis. 

I believe I attended the most painful of those 25 losses, two seasons ago.  It was late July, a Sunday night game televised nationally on ESPN.  We (two cardinal fans and three Cubs fans) sat in the first row of the upper deck of the left field bleachers, great seats, and watched a great game (for 3/5 of us) through the first 8 1/2 innings.  St. Louis came to bat in the bottom of the ninth trailing 9-4.  The Cubs were not having a good year, and with this win would take two of three from the series.  By this point, that was as good as a thing that could happen to them.

St. Louis proceeded to score six runs and win the game 10-9.

The only solace three of us could take was the fact that 90% of the people in the stadium had left by the time the game went to the ninth.  The celebration in the crowds as we made our way to our car was loud, and I can only imagine how worse it would have been if nine times the people were there.  Even for someone who can remember the God-awful Cub teams of the 1970's, it was a low point.

I'd be happy with a 2-2 split this weekend.  There's a long way to go this season and neither team needs to win all four. 

"I'm George W. Bush, and I approved this costume"

It's hard to believe that today marks a full year since the President played dress up.

GW arriving on the aircraft carrier in full flight suit attire kicked off what has been a memorable year of embarrassment.  Has a commnader in chief ever looked as ridiculous as he did in that get up?  I've seen action figures in toy stores that looked more realistic than he did.  However, there is no truth to the rumor that GW petitioned the National Guard to allow his appearance last year to count towards a day of service that he missed in 1973.

Bush topped off that day by declaring that all major hostilities in Iraq were over, and to make his point a strategic banner proclaiming "Mission Accomplished" was placed on the ship so that it would be visible over his shoulder as he spoke.  Mission accomplished, major hostilities are over!  So that means the 600 or so service people killed in Iraq since then were the victim of "minor" hostilities.  A few people in the administration have since said that the banner was a mistake, but not GW.  No sir, he does not make mistakes.  Just ask God.

Not that blame falls for on GW for this, it's not like he pulled the trigger or planted the mines or blew himself up.  Well, not literally, at least, but let's nor forget that shortly after the "mission accomplished" dress up day, Bush told the guerilla forces in Iraq to "bring it on" when it was apparent that American soldiers were still in danger in Iraq. 

One would assume that this President has the smallest feet in history, which would explain his remarkable ability to put them in his mouth, and that they still must be in there, otherwise he would have somehow managed to apologize for misleading the people of this country into believing that things were OK in Iraq, and for essentially daring insurgents in Iraq to elevate their attacks on our soldiers.

(I assume I will be hearing from John Ashcroft shortly)

 

   

worse things than this

Yet another weekend assignment:

I'm really not someone who gives or seeks advice all that often, and almost all of what I have given has been OK and received has been excellent.

Worst advice I ever gave: this is easy.  A few years ago a friend asked me who he should draft as his fantasy league quarterback-Peyton Manning or Ryan Leaf (both were rookies).  I told him to take Leaf, because he was going to be a star, while Manning was going to be average at best.

Worst advice ever received:  As a former King of unrequited love (I will pause here so that you may dry your tears............) more than a few people suggested I not express my feelings to the object(s) of my affection.  Well intended, I'm sure, but I wasted a hell of a lot of time waiting for someone in the dark to see the light, while all the bulbs were burned out.

Wow, that was a really horrible metaphor.  My supreme apologies.

 

Everybody play the game

I never thought I'd ever write about anything that involved Viagra.

When I was a kid, the first album I ever bought was Queen's "A Night at the Opera."  I could sing the whole album in order right now if I had to ('I feel like dancing/in the rain/can I get a volunteer'-Seaside Rendezvous...OK, OK, I'll stop now).  In time I had all of their music.  Queen was the first rock group that I proclaimed as my favorite, and they stayed there until the day Freddie Mercury died.  News of  his death saddened me as much as any person that I did not personally know.  I still listen to them a lot.

Proof once again that the memories of things that make you happy when you were a child don't always last through your lifetime arrived this afternoon when I was watching the Phillies-Cardinals game on ESPN.  There was a commercial for Viagra featuring several different men running jubilantly from their homes to the tune of "We Are the Champions," which in all honesty is not one of my favorite Queen tunes.

I was able to ignore the fact that the song has been used as an anthem in every sports arena since the early 80's, but I was significantly bothered by hearing Queen in a Viagra commercial, once I stopped laughing.  I have to admit that it was a somewhat amusing advertisement.  I posted some thoughts and a new rule last month when a David Bowie song showed up in a car ad, and I feel the same way today after seeing this commercial.  Queen's not together anymore, obviously, so I don't know who exactly is selling out, but a rule's a rule, so the lyrics have to change:

We are the erectile dysfunctional, my friends

And we'll keep on poppin' blue pills til we can achieve "the end"

We've got Viagra!  We've got Viagra!

No use for Levitra!

'Cause we got Viagra

In case we ever get a girlfriend

 

A visit from Saint Rudolph

Mark Brown of the Chicago Sun-Times wrote a great piece on Rudy Giuliani today.

Rudy's another guy who has been prematurely canonized because he was mayor of New York on 9/11.  I was impressed with his leadership that day, much as I was by President Bush, but I also think just about anyone in his position (or GW's, for that matter) would have reacted in the same way.

It's disappointing to see him on the side of the drug companies when he instead could have an effect on getting a handle on drug pricing.  He forces me to label him as yet another GOP shill who cares nothing about people, only business.

We have a serious accountability problem in this country when people who know that they are admired choose personal wealth over the good of others.  I am all for free enterprise and capitalism when it comes to wants instead of needs, but for too many people in the land, meeting the costs of their drug needs is prohibitive.  If the people who run our nation (and this is a bipartisan slam) cared more for it's inhabitants rather that the wealth, we'd have reasonable prescription prices.  It's pathetic to gouge people on medicine.

Of course, guys like Giuliani will be able to afford any drugs they need no matter how long they live. 

The true measure of a man

So much has been said and written about the death of Pat Tillman last week that I want to avoid repeating any of it.  I can't say that I followed his NFL career or even knew who he was before he decided to give it all up and enter the Army.  Walking away from a multi-million dollar contract to face potential combat is noble indeed, more so because he refused to call attention to himself for doing it.

I think that the word "hero" is overused in our society, certainly since 9/11.  I equate a hero to be someone who faces certain danger without regard to himself for the immediate safety of others.  I'm not sure if I consider a soldier on patrol in Afganistan a hero by its definition.  Brave, absolutely.  Certainly, there are times when soldiers are called on to be heroic, but I waver in considering all military personnel heroes.

He certainly was a man though, something that I think is a lot tougher to do than be a hero.  Potentially, any schmuck can be a hero if he/she is in the right place at the right time.  It's harder to be a true man (or person-leave me alone) day in and day out.  When a guy like Pat Tillman does what he did, and then dies because of it, I know that he was a better man that I could ever hope to be, because I don't see myself making those decisions under any circumstance.  It's not even humbling to write that.  I know the person that I am, and I am not as courageous as any soldier, never mind one that walks away from being paid millions of dollars to play a game.

The true meaning of a man is someone who can have a positive affect on people that don't know him whether he is alive or dead.  Pat Tillman fits that definition.

One of the legacies of Pat Tillman that I hope to see is that from now on, no one, be it fans, writers, announcers, coaches or athletes themselves refer to any sporting event or situation as "war."  I don't want to hear about "battles in the trenches" or any other metaphors that compare sport to war.  To do so has always been ridiculous, and it makes no sense now, more than ever.

 

Huevos all over my face

It just happened again.

I was on my way to Target to pick up some painting supplies.  It's a nice day here in Chicago, not a cloud in the sky and the temperature in the low 60's, so I had the window rolled down as I drove along North Avenue.  Unable to find anything good playing on the radio, I let it scan until I heard something catchy.

I stopped it when I heard the familiar guitar riff, followed by a low male voice singing "hey, hey, hey" and knew I had heard it before, but could not remember what it was.  Determined to know what it was, I decided then and there to listen to the end and if the radio station did not identify who it was, I would call them if I had to in order to find out.

Then the rest of the verse played out:

"Hey, hey, hey, lady, burrito lady, burrito lady,..."

Ah, yes, it's a commercial for Chipotle.  I knew that the last time I waited a few seconds to figure out what it was.  And I'll do it again when I hear it on the radio and forget that I've heard the commercial before. 

I am to the point where I find the music played during the commercials on the radio better than the songs played in between ad breaks.  Color me old, and do it quickly, lest I am able to forget what exactly it is that you are doing.