It’s amazing how unexpected things can trigger childhood memories. Earlier today, I read in the New York Times that Bobby Thomson, who hit the world famous Shot Heard ‘Round the World in 1951 while playing for the Brooklyn Dodgers, passed away last week.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Why are you writing about sports? You don’t like sports. You don’t play sports. The sight of a sporting event on television fills you with a feeling of uncontrollable dread and terror mixed with boredom.
Well, no. You’re getting that mixed up with my reaction to Justin Timberlake’s music.
You may not know this, and you will be fascinated to learn it, but as a boy I was really interested in baseball. This has long since faded and the most interesting part of going to a baseball game now for me is seeing what kinds of new junk food have been dreamed up for people to gorge on while at the stadium. Last time I went to a Mets game, I had this weird ice cream thing that looked like dirt. And it came in a very small container. And it had some bad punny name like Bitz or Dotz or You Just Wasted a Lot of Money on This Garbage. I also had a pulled-pork sandwich at the Blue Smoke stand, which I suppose is healthier than a hot dog, but if you’re going to serve gourmet food at a baseball game, why not have something more interesting, like a spinach omelet or toast?
Also, there is nowhere to buy gum at baseball games. This is annoying.
But it’s amazing to me that, like almost everything else in America, baseball has become so corporate. This is not really news, but I’ve always had a hard time accepting it. I’ve always thought that was football’s realm. Baseball was to football like the old musty boutique in your hometown where your grandmother went to buy slacks was to K-Mart.
Whereas people once rooted for the Brooklyn Dodgers or the New York Giants or the New York Yankees and heralded amazing feats of athletic achievement and mused over baseball’s ability to transcend racial and economic boundaries, now they just go to eat overpriced ice cream out of a little tub and have a pork sandwich.
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In this week’s installment of the podcast, we discuss massages. You can listen here and at SelfAbsorbed.me, and subscribe in iTunes.
As always, we appreciate your support. Please tell friends, family and coworkers about the show and urge them to listen.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Why are you writing about sports? You don’t like sports. You don’t play sports. The sight of a sporting event on television fills you with a feeling of uncontrollable dread and terror mixed with boredom.
Well, no. You’re getting that mixed up with my reaction to Justin Timberlake’s music.
You may not know this, and you will be fascinated to learn it, but as a boy I was really interested in baseball. This has long since faded and the most interesting part of going to a baseball game now for me is seeing what kinds of new junk food have been dreamed up for people to gorge on while at the stadium. Last time I went to a Mets game, I had this weird ice cream thing that looked like dirt. And it came in a very small container. And it had some bad punny name like Bitz or Dotz or You Just Wasted a Lot of Money on This Garbage. I also had a pulled-pork sandwich at the Blue Smoke stand, which I suppose is healthier than a hot dog, but if you’re going to serve gourmet food at a baseball game, why not have something more interesting, like a spinach omelet or toast?
Also, there is nowhere to buy gum at baseball games. This is annoying.
But it’s amazing to me that, like almost everything else in America, baseball has become so corporate. This is not really news, but I’ve always had a hard time accepting it. I’ve always thought that was football’s realm. Baseball was to football like the old musty boutique in your hometown where your grandmother went to buy slacks was to K-Mart.
Whereas people once rooted for the Brooklyn Dodgers or the New York Giants or the New York Yankees and heralded amazing feats of athletic achievement and mused over baseball’s ability to transcend racial and economic boundaries, now they just go to eat overpriced ice cream out of a little tub and have a pork sandwich.
***********
In this week’s installment of the podcast, we discuss massages. You can listen here and at SelfAbsorbed.me, and subscribe in iTunes.
As always, we appreciate your support. Please tell friends, family and coworkers about the show and urge them to listen.
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