In an iconic movie line, Tom Hanks tells one of his female players, “There’s no crying in baseball!”
There has also been no clock.
As a child, I went to many Cleveland Indians games with my Dad. I was passionate and wrote about that loyalty a while back. I even sat through doubleheaders and enjoyed it. At each one, I conscientiously wore by Ernie Banks baseball glove just in case a foul ball flew our way along the third-base line.
One day it did!
It crashed into an empty chair right in front of me. My little hand was inches from grasping the prize when a man knocked me over and snatched it. Good life lesson.
I took my boys to pro baseball games too — in Japan. One day a foul fell near my oldest son. He held the scuffed thing like a sacred orb fallen from Heaven.
Moments later, however, a stadium usher appeared and demanded its return. A life lesson in another place.
When I was 11, however, I gave up on Major League Baseball for reasons detailed in this week’s commentary. It seems many have also abandoned the nation’s one-time national sport. One major reason: The games sometimes seem interminable.
Now, MLB has a solution pending.
I discuss this in our latest little commentary.
Here’s last week’s commentary.
And this week’s column letting loose on my fatigue — or disgust, take your pick — with the crowd of old f***s pretending they’re running our country.
My RedState colleagues have chronicled the Big Guy’s latest flops here and here. Oh, and this one is rich. The malfunctioning relationship between Biden and his disappointingly, patronizing hand-picked political partner.
And then, of course, the delicious drama over Twitter’s new ownership.
You can find all of my RedState posts, many VIP, but some are outside and available for all readers like this fond memory.
Follow me on Twitter @AHMalcolm We have a pretty good time there, lots of different stuff and back and forth. Because, what’s the point of writing if you don’t have readers?
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