OK, I'm back to this Anonymous mess again. One became Beauregard (Ah say, there, suh), and two more are still commenting. One, who seems like a rational and reasonable sort, had to clarify yesterday that he was the one who posted about them newfangled ways of measuring Kelly J against Nunie in the field, because the cantankerous one was in there throwing insults at the team, the Steinpeople, and Mustang.
An appeal to all Anonymouses NOT the cranky, nasty one: please sign in as NotAnon, or Anonymous3, or Ted Knight. Anything, just to keep this from happening.
By the way, in German, 'Steinbrenner' means 'stone stoker,' as in stoking flames. I think. I guess the first Steinyachters were in charge of heating rocks in a fire to pass out to fire-challenged villagers, or perhaps just to heat them up for the royal bedwarming.
Steinbrenner...Steiner Sports...draw your own overpricing conclusions.
In further confusion news, the Times had an article about major league autographs, which have become so bad that you'd think these guys were all doctors with prescription pads (note to self: idea for A-Rod). Even fans who watch the autographing in person can't figure out what the hell these guys are writing most of the time.
Next up is our very own Brett Gardner. Now, a man with his cranium, you'd think he would be able to write his name legibly, but obviously not. His brain may have evolved far beyond 21st-century man's, yet it gives him no discernible edge in handwriting.
Below Brett is the uneducated, women-chasing, uncouth, beer-swilling lout, Babe Ruth. The guy who once was at a formal Park Avenue society dinner party and, when he was offered the tray of asparagus, told the servant, 'No, thanks, it makes my pee smell funny.' But look at his signature. Distinctive, quirky, yes, and also incredibly legible.
If you're of a certain age, you no doubt remember the quiet classicism of the Brooks Robinson and Mickey Mantle autographs. Take a look at Harmon Killebrew. Respectful, intelligent, readable, as if the player took some care in presenting himself in ink. What happened? Torii Hunter is noted in the article as one of the few contemporary-ish players who takes the time and care to prove that he can actually write his own name. God bless you, Mr. Hunter. Hammer on, Harmon.
My own handwriting has turned to crap ever since I started typing, then got worse when I started using a computer. But the kids aren't looking up to me. (Wise move on their part, in many ways.) Come on, MLBers. Start showing the kids that writing your name should be a point of pride, or even capability. Take the extra time and block print if you have
to, but make sure the kids can read your autograph.
Opening day is tonight. If that sounds weird, it is.