There are a lot of reasons why I watch sports. One of the
biggest is that sports is non-contrived drama. As a writer I find it very
appealing that there is no guiding intelligence that decides who wins and who
loses. Or how.
It has to play out in real time.
Then there is the knowledge that we are watching the best athletes
from all over the world.
(Or at least close to it or, in the case of the Yankees, not
at all, but I digress...)
The point is, your father can own the team, but you don’t
get to play second base. Instead, it can be some kid who started out with a
cardboard glove on a rock-strewn lot somewhere in the Caribbean or in the
Japanese equivalent of Little League. It’s a rare thing in life. An actual meritocracy.
(Well again, except in the way the Yankees develop and bring
up minor leaguers but again, I digress…)
There’s the way fandom cuts across all races, religions,
politics, class. Doesn’t matter what room you’re in, there is always someone
who will talk to you about how much Brian Cashman sucks or how much we hate the
Astros.
And that’s the Crux of the Biscuit. How. Much. We. Hate.
The. Astros.
That’s the darker side to sports.
The deep, deep almost primal satisfaction we feel watching our
team defeat a hated foe.
Giants /Cowboys.
Giants/Eagles. (Even if the win comes via a secondary source
like the Chiefs beating them in the Super Bowl.)
Yankees/Astros.
Even though, from this fan’s point of view, it is in the Yankees best interests to come in
last and have a losing record, hopefully leading to an long overdue
housecleaning that sweeps away Brian Cashman, Boone, and at least a dozen others,
beating the Houston Astros yesterday provided that head nodding, sneering, “Fuck
you...” that comes from seeing justice
done.
It’s not just a win. It is vengeance. Triumph over the bully.
Enemy vanquished…
Films strive to give us moments like this, the last five
minutes of Godfather I or II when all family business is settled comes to mind.
Or “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father. Prepare to die.'” Then
there is Dirty Harry blowing away the apparently “unlucky” punk.
As satisfying as those moments are, they are written.
Contrived. And, despite how much we enjoy those moments, the revenge is not
ours.
Seeing Altuve flail, beating Verlander, knowing that the
city of Houston, or Boston for that matter, is diminished, their smug asses
handed to them, at least on this day, supplies a satisfaction that the world
rarely, if ever, provides.
And yes, we could lose today. But that’s today. Yesterday
was all ours.
Posts
4 comments:
Well said, Doug!
Excellent read, Doug.
From the previous thread - the Shell-No-Pest-Strip would work just fine, thank you for asking.
As my carbon rods of memory creak together and begin to spittle and glow, I am reminded of a flight from JFK to LAX in the very early 1980s when a flight attendant asked me whether I wanted cream for my back-wash coffee. When I said yes she reached into her cart and handed me two single serve dairy creamer cups, or coffee whitener as they were called. As I picked one up to peel off its lid I noticed some writing printed on the bottom. It said. “Another edible petroleum product from Phillips 66.”
Does that count?
Don’t hate the Astros. They will return to their previous irrelevance soon enough.
Don’t hate the Red Sox. Don’t like their fans, the worst bunch of ignorant mutts crawling the planet’s surface
The Cowboys? Well now… You’re talking to someone whose bucket list consists of a single item - to defecate on the the star on the 50 yard line at Cowboys stadium.
Evil Dwarf Altuve did it to us again yesterday, but fortunately for us, it wasn't enough for the ASS-stros to beat us.
Nasty Nestor made that one mistake yesterday. With two outs and ahead of Altuve 0-2, then on a 1-2 pitch, Cortes got ahead of himself and made a really stupid mistake, a cutter right down the middle.
If you want to be a champion, you can't make that mistake, particularly in that situation, way ahead on the count and with two outs. I have noticed that Cortes makes a lot of mistakes when ahead in the count or with two outs in the inning. It's got to be psychological. He's got to be patient, "stay within himself". and not blow those situations where he's got the advantage. Wouldn't it be nice if our pitching coach had the experience and know-how to coach our guys through these kinds of problems?
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