We left after work on Friday and made it about halfway to St. Louis, stopping the night in Maclean, Illinois where we had a Super 8 lined up for the night. We walked into our room and it was uncomfortably warm. The air conditioning unit underneath the window came to life in a rumble that never died down. The bathroom door wouldn't stay shut. The pool was broken. And the pillows were small and not supportive. I mention all these things not to jump on Super 8, but just to contrast that with the hotel we stayed at in downtown St. Louis.
The Riverfront Hyatt Regency is what they call it now, but when I was growing up and hearing the Cards on the radio, it was the Adam's Mark St. Louis. In fact, when I made the reservation earlier this year it was the Adam's Mark, but whatever. This was a great hotel. We got a junior sweet, so we had plenty of room and we had a view of both the Gateway Arch and the old Courthouse (where the Dredd Scott case was litigated*). Gorgeous view. And the bathroom door shut the whole way. The king-sized bed was overflowing with pillows and the room temperature was cool and controllable without noise. Great.
*Note. I couldn't remember what the Dredd Scott Case was. All I could recall was it was "a slavery case bad." That right there is why I couldn't major in history and why I didn't get a lot of A's while majoring in English.
But that wasn't why we came to St. Louis. And we couldn't even get in our room at first. Apparently, our idea of coming into St. Louis just for a day and staying at the old Adam's Mark is not really an outside the box thought.
So, we left the van and our bags and headed over to Busch III.
And let me say, this stadium is gorgeous. Better than the hotel even (though warmer). The weather was high 70's and sunny when we got there, but clouds mixed in throughout the day to combine with a nice cool breeze for a perfect spring day. The walkways are big and accessible. Getting in and out of the stadium was so easy. (Wrigley really is a death-trap. I'm all for old stadiums and their beauty-and Wrigley is beautiful-but squishing in the almost-40,000 people in and out of there on a 90 degree Chicago sweat-fest? Well. It's not fun.)
We got there early and found our seats in the right field corner next to the foul pole. Chris Duncan, Troy Glaus and Skip Schumacher were taking batting practice as we sat down. This is where I really eye-balled the stadium. The orange-ish brick and the black of the railings and light towers were strikingly new. (Most of the games I've seen have been at Wrigley, so it's my most immediate frame of reference. Also, this is the newest baseball stadium I've been to.) The field itself was gorgeous. The crowd was late arriving (which seemed odd for the best fans in baseball), but they were quality. The southern family behind us offered up good commentary. As soon as Dioner Navarro bat touched the pitch that would be a homerun, the father cried, "Oh no!" With a southern accent. And People actually talked about matchups and after Albert failed to move two runners over with an out in the early innings, someone actually faulted him for it. I know it's just one crowd and it's hard to compare them to Cubs fans. But. In this small sample size, the Cards are waaaaaaay ahead. (Which isn't to say we don't have our douches, we do. And they were about, but not in as great a number.)
The pitching matchup (and the reason I had trouble sleeping the night before*) was Adam Wainwright v. Matt Garza.
*Note. This was the first time in a long time that I was so excited I couldn't sleep. It was just like when I was a kid and going to Adventureland that next day. I'd be lying on my transformers sheets thinking, "I'm gonna ride the Tornado and then the log ride and then the bumper cars and then the ladyfinger (my favorite!), but I have to go to sleep now. The sooner I go to sleep the sooner I wake up and ride the Tornado and the Scrambler..." Yup. 30 years old and going to see Wainwright pitch and Pujols hit and Ankiel do Ankiel things, this was making me all atwitter.
Note to Note. I was trying to find old Adventureland commercials on YouTube, but no luck. Today the internet let me down.
Anyway. Wainwright didn't have his great stuff, which was sort of obvious from the start. (Reminded me of a Matt Morris start I saw in Wrigley once. I've been working on a post for that story since Morris' retirement, so we'll get back to that sometime.) He battled all game and left with a lead in the 6th. But it was a tough game. Which was to be expected because the Rays have one of the best lineups in the game. They are fun to watch as well.
I'll be honest. I was pretty sure the Cardinals weren't going to do well. They'd been in a bit of a funk of late. Dropping three to Milwaukee (who hadn't really been hot) and 2 to Pittsburgh (who...well, aren't good). They bullpen had been a sieve. Things were pointing toward a May collapse and I had a feeling that I had come to witness it.
But, I was pleasantly surprised. The team was fighting. The Rays scored first, but the Cards scored immediately after. And I must say, Aaron Miles had a spectacular game. He got was 4 for 4 and had a really nice play at second base to save a run. (So, yeah. I'm sorry Aaron Miles. You've been really good this season. My bad.) My heart did drop a little in the 9th when Albert struck out and Miles ran into another out. (No, really, Aaron. I'm not throwing you back under the bus, I'm just saying. Hey, I was surprised you got on base at all.) Going to extras seemed like doom. But Ryan Franklin pitched us through the 10th (he'd pitched the 9th as well), and Ryan Ludwick. Well. Ryan Ludwick hit a homerun. Wind-aided, maybe, but awesome. That's the happiest I've been at a baseball game.
The only downside of the game? No Rick Ankiel. Apparently he hurt his shoulder. Get well soon Rick. *
*Note. I did not send flowers, depsite repeated, compulsive urges. I'm making progress.
After the game, we checked into our fabulous hotel and chilled for a bit. Seeings how I'd been wearing jeans, I needed to shower. (Every winter, I forget that 78 degrees is really warm when you're sitting in the sun.) After that, we headed to the Arch park and made our way through the pretty waterfront park to LaClede's Landing. Apparently, this is where St. Louis really started and it's a historic disctrict with brick streest (which I am a sucker for) and horse-drawn carriages (which I am less a sucker for, but still somewhat suckish). We ate at the Morgan Street Brewery, which was really good. I had their Maibock and Dinah had the Dopplebock (along with food), and it was real good.
I couldn't convince Dinah to do the the Wax Museum, but that was okay. We took the half-gallon jug of Dopplebock we bought back to the hotel, before setting out to walk around the downtown. I liked the downtown. It was pretty, but maybe a little still. And there seemed to be a lot of places looking to be leased.
The next day we had breakfast delivered. (I've never had room service before. It's really nice.) Then we checked out the Arch again. Today we were actually going to go inside and take the tram (not elevator) up. But. Apparently everyone takes the tram on Sundays, so we couldn't fit it in. We did pudder around the museum they have there. It was extensive (including anamatronics!), but not clearly organized. It was set up sort of like a tree. Where, starting at the center, you have the beginning date 1803 (for the Louisiana Purchase) and the next ring around it represents the next decade. It's a neat idea, but it makes it hard to follow a narrative through it.
After that, we checked out of the hotel and wandered around St. Louis for a bit. We looked through Forest Park, which seemed gorgeous. In the park they have the Art Museum and History Museum and The Muny, which is an awesome outdoor amphitheater. Looking around the areas around there was great too. To the west of Forest Park is Washington University (which has an awesome campus, good for them!). To the North is the Loop, which is apparently a hopping place for youngsters (or so Dan Buck, son of Jack Buck told me on the hotel travel channel) to hang out.
Then we went to Lafayette Square and ate at Sqwires, which was a renovated wire factory. Food there was good and the people seemed nice.
And then we left St. Louis. On the way out we drove by the Stadium again and saw the festivities for Stan Musial. The Cardinals were having the name in front of the stadium changed in his honor. Awesome.
Yeah. So we saw a lot of St. Louis, and as Dinah and I are considering where to live after Chicago, we added St. Louis to the list. (Along with Milwaukee, Minneapolis, St. Paul, and scenic Levittown.) I'm worried the summers are way too hot for me. And that I'll be really out of the way for family and stuff. But. We'll see.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Mascots...
I started to my educational life as a Roadrunner. I don't remember being especially proud of that, but it was fun to think about. Little-Kindergarten-through-5th-Grade-me, being fast and fun and always outrunning the coyote and his hairbrained schemes and toys. (This was all I knew about roadrunners at the time. And that our mascot on the yearbooks and tote bags was purposely designed after the Warner Bros. character didn't encourage me to look much harder, I guess.) It made me feel good to think that was what I was. Part of the reason I liked it was probably because I was a fat kid and getting to pretend I was quick. It kind of made me feel good.
This was before I realized that you weren't imbued with the characteristics of your mascot. And I learned this lesson quickly when I become a Trojan. I didn't know what sort of Trojan they had intended with this name, but when Brian Cherry told me the other type, well, I knew I was not going to represent or be represented by a Trojan.
And I took this attitude with me when I was a Railsplitter and Pioneer. Niether of these really had any meaning to me. I mean, it was nice to think of myself as a hard-working type of person that being a railsplitter brings to mind, but I did not work all that hard in Highschool. And I found it hard to think of myself as a Pioneer, when many folks had gone to this college before me and I clearly wasn't blazing any trails in my studies. (Though there were definitely pioneers at Grinnell.) But still, it was there and I took some token pride in the label.
Then I went to work in the "real world". And there were plenty of differences, but one of the more subtle ones is there are no longer mascots. No longer these idols put in front of you who you're supposed to represent or whose characteristics you're supposed to emmulate. I went from being a pioneer to being nothing. Maybe not the biggest problem on my plate at the time, but it was a problem.
And for 8 years now, I've been nothing. There's no mascot for the 20-something college graduate to emmulate. I mean, sure there's that guy you see in traffic or on the train or bus. That guy who looks like he's got his stuff together. Wearing the shoes that wouldn't look so hot on you. Listening to way cooler music than you do. Carrying his briefcase, or if he was sort of alterna-corporate, his messenger bag. He didn't decide to go to either Hair Cuttery or Great Clips soley depending on which side of the street he was on at the time. Hell, he probably paid 20 dollars for his haircut. And while he might be fine to model yourself after, there's nothing inherently brave or exciting about him. Not like a cougar, anyway.
So when I apply and am accepted to a Paralegal program at a local University (Did I bury the lead a bit? Probably.), I was looking forward to being somethign again. It didn't have to be a sleek panther or the wise owl. It didn't even have to be a noble game-cock. I was just excited to be something again. So, what do I get? Nothing. I mean admittedly, it's a certificate program, but still. One would expect a label that I can comfortably self-apply.
Perhaps I'm supposed to be old enough to not need this kind of foolishness, but I guess I'm not. I mean, sure, getting the degree is important (probably the most important thing about getting into the program), but there was a part of me that was looking forward to having a mascot. So I know what I must do. I have to come up with a mascot for Roosevelt University. (Note: if you search mascot on the Roosevelt site, you come up with Fala, who was FDR's dog as a mascot for the Institute of Continued Learning, which I guess my program (again, I don't know for sure) would fall under. But it's not a mascot for the school as a whole. I mean, does Tennesee have a different mascot for Grads and Undergrands? I don't know, but I don't think so. And truthfully, I was hoping for something a little more....grand?)
So, where to start? It seems to me that it should have to do with some aspect of both Roosevelts (Franklin and Eleanor, not Teddy. Though I liked his trust-busting ways, the school is not named after him so, I will not be a Rough Rider. Thankfully.) as they were both rather remarkable people. I only came up with a couple possibilities. My ideas:
This was before I realized that you weren't imbued with the characteristics of your mascot. And I learned this lesson quickly when I become a Trojan. I didn't know what sort of Trojan they had intended with this name, but when Brian Cherry told me the other type, well, I knew I was not going to represent or be represented by a Trojan.
And I took this attitude with me when I was a Railsplitter and Pioneer. Niether of these really had any meaning to me. I mean, it was nice to think of myself as a hard-working type of person that being a railsplitter brings to mind, but I did not work all that hard in Highschool. And I found it hard to think of myself as a Pioneer, when many folks had gone to this college before me and I clearly wasn't blazing any trails in my studies. (Though there were definitely pioneers at Grinnell.) But still, it was there and I took some token pride in the label.
Then I went to work in the "real world". And there were plenty of differences, but one of the more subtle ones is there are no longer mascots. No longer these idols put in front of you who you're supposed to represent or whose characteristics you're supposed to emmulate. I went from being a pioneer to being nothing. Maybe not the biggest problem on my plate at the time, but it was a problem.
And for 8 years now, I've been nothing. There's no mascot for the 20-something college graduate to emmulate. I mean, sure there's that guy you see in traffic or on the train or bus. That guy who looks like he's got his stuff together. Wearing the shoes that wouldn't look so hot on you. Listening to way cooler music than you do. Carrying his briefcase, or if he was sort of alterna-corporate, his messenger bag. He didn't decide to go to either Hair Cuttery or Great Clips soley depending on which side of the street he was on at the time. Hell, he probably paid 20 dollars for his haircut. And while he might be fine to model yourself after, there's nothing inherently brave or exciting about him. Not like a cougar, anyway.
So when I apply and am accepted to a Paralegal program at a local University (Did I bury the lead a bit? Probably.), I was looking forward to being somethign again. It didn't have to be a sleek panther or the wise owl. It didn't even have to be a noble game-cock. I was just excited to be something again. So, what do I get? Nothing. I mean admittedly, it's a certificate program, but still. One would expect a label that I can comfortably self-apply.
Perhaps I'm supposed to be old enough to not need this kind of foolishness, but I guess I'm not. I mean, sure, getting the degree is important (probably the most important thing about getting into the program), but there was a part of me that was looking forward to having a mascot. So I know what I must do. I have to come up with a mascot for Roosevelt University. (Note: if you search mascot on the Roosevelt site, you come up with Fala, who was FDR's dog as a mascot for the Institute of Continued Learning, which I guess my program (again, I don't know for sure) would fall under. But it's not a mascot for the school as a whole. I mean, does Tennesee have a different mascot for Grads and Undergrands? I don't know, but I don't think so. And truthfully, I was hoping for something a little more....grand?)
So, where to start? It seems to me that it should have to do with some aspect of both Roosevelts (Franklin and Eleanor, not Teddy. Though I liked his trust-busting ways, the school is not named after him so, I will not be a Rough Rider. Thankfully.) as they were both rather remarkable people. I only came up with a couple possibilities. My ideas:
- The Dealers. It's of course, referring to the New Deal. And I guess you could go with the New Dealers, but I like just the Dealers. It's just a tad more obscure this way. It demands that people know at least the name of the New Deal and why it is associated with the Roosevelts. It doesn't really strike fear in the heart of people, but RU has no sports teams at this time, so just acknowledging the connection to the New Deal is probably cool, right?
- The Statesmen. This works for both the Roosevelts (maybe Eleanor more than Franklin). Again, this doesn't strike fear, but it's cool. The problem I have with this is that it isn't catchy.
So. Feel free to share others and I'll update if I think of more. (There's a fifty percent chance I just go ahead with Panthers or something).
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Saturday...
This Saturday, I'll be in St. Louis for a game against the Rays (formerly affiliated with Satan, but have since found redemption). Pitching probables (and I'm crossing my fingers) Adam Wainright (Cardinals Ace and World Series/NLCS hero) and Matt Garza (who I know very little about). I'm super-pysched and it's taking all the strength I can summon not to put you all (all 3 of you) through another countdown (wedding-style!).
The only other time I visited St. Louis, I was 8 or so. As I've mentioned, my Dad was a Cardinals fan since he was young, and so was I. Being that I was young, I don't really remember a lot about the trip. I remember seeing Willie McGee's face on a giant (huge, even) scoreboard. I remember the pixilated dots of the old scoreboard, that had a redspot on his right cheek for some reason. (I assume that for PR reasons this wasn't a zit they were representing.)
I remember we were sitting way up high looking down on the artificle turf. Everyone looked so small, like the little green army men I would sometimes play with later. My dad was showing me how to keep score again.
And I remember picking up extra plastic cups that other people left behind after the game. I poured beer out onto the concrete completely confused that someone would leave these treasures behind. I felt guilty making off with the ten or so I stacked between my hands and my chin, but they were still being used in my househond when I graduated high school.
And that may or may not have been the day we ended up getting a round Cardinal pillow that I used to sleep with in highschool. I seem to remember us getting it that trip, but I can't quite trust my memory of it.
I think we saw two games, though it may have been three. And I have no idea what happened in any of the games. I can't even remember who the other team was (though I want to say Mets).
I remember at the hotel we watched Popeye on TV for a while. I know I'd seen some Popeye cartoons before, but I remember thinking it was so foreign to see him having his own show. And I think this is also where I found out there was a Popeye's Chicken. And it was very confusing that they were not in fact related to one another.
And I definitely went up the Arch. I remember the elevator tilting and adjusting, tilting and adjusting us all the way up. I have no memory of the view.
It's odd. These are the concrete (more or less) things I remember from the trip, but thinking about them just makes me happy. The power of youth, I guess.
The only other time I visited St. Louis, I was 8 or so. As I've mentioned, my Dad was a Cardinals fan since he was young, and so was I. Being that I was young, I don't really remember a lot about the trip. I remember seeing Willie McGee's face on a giant (huge, even) scoreboard. I remember the pixilated dots of the old scoreboard, that had a redspot on his right cheek for some reason. (I assume that for PR reasons this wasn't a zit they were representing.)
I remember we were sitting way up high looking down on the artificle turf. Everyone looked so small, like the little green army men I would sometimes play with later. My dad was showing me how to keep score again.
And I remember picking up extra plastic cups that other people left behind after the game. I poured beer out onto the concrete completely confused that someone would leave these treasures behind. I felt guilty making off with the ten or so I stacked between my hands and my chin, but they were still being used in my househond when I graduated high school.
And that may or may not have been the day we ended up getting a round Cardinal pillow that I used to sleep with in highschool. I seem to remember us getting it that trip, but I can't quite trust my memory of it.
I think we saw two games, though it may have been three. And I have no idea what happened in any of the games. I can't even remember who the other team was (though I want to say Mets).
I remember at the hotel we watched Popeye on TV for a while. I know I'd seen some Popeye cartoons before, but I remember thinking it was so foreign to see him having his own show. And I think this is also where I found out there was a Popeye's Chicken. And it was very confusing that they were not in fact related to one another.
And I definitely went up the Arch. I remember the elevator tilting and adjusting, tilting and adjusting us all the way up. I have no memory of the view.
It's odd. These are the concrete (more or less) things I remember from the trip, but thinking about them just makes me happy. The power of youth, I guess.
Jim Edmonds...
Dear Jim Edmonds,
I'm struggling here. I'm having a hard time picturing you in a Cubs uniform. And the thought that I won't have to wait long to see the reality, is not helpful. So, I'm writing to you on this public place (if you consider the 5 people who visit my blog public) to ask your help, because I'm now 30 and I can't think that plugging my fingers in my ears and pretending this isn't happening is gonna work for me now.
Let's go back a little, shall we, Mr. Edmonds. I have no doubt that you recall the good times as a Cardinal. The 2 World Series appearances. The win over the Tigers (take THAT Detroit!). You had 5 of the best years a Center Feilder has ever had while you were wearing that Cardinal Red uniform.
So, when you asked for a trade this offseason, I didn't begrudge you that. I thought, 'hey, he's done so much for the franchise. He's been a solid player. By all accounts you were a solid clubhouse presence in St. Louis. If he wants to go, then that's okay.' I was still cheering for you, sir. Padre or not, I want Jim Edmonds to play well. Because I remember the joy of watching you make some of the most amazing catches ever. And I remember watching your uppercut swing connect and moonshot a ball into the right field seats.
And now. You'll be a Cub.
I don't begrudge you that. I don't. I realize it's a business and you have to go where the opportunity is. It's in Chicago. So, yeah, I get it. But. I just can't help but remember the game where Carlos Zambrano threw at you. Twice. And how the fans there hated you. And how you seemed to hate playing there. You played 1st base there a couple times because you were having a little trouble seeing the ball off the bat. I don't bring this up to crap on your situation now. I really don't. But. It just seemed to me that if ever there were hostility between a player and an entire situation (from fanbase to field to other stars on the team), this was it.
But. Here we are. And that's okay.
You're doing what you have to do to keep playing. And I honestly wish you well. I hope you bounce back and the uppercut starts mashing the ball into the bleachers. And I hope the Cubs fans embrace you. And hey, at least now Zambrano won't throw at you (probably. I just don't know about that guy.).
Anyway. Good luck Jim. If you need me, you'll have to yell, because on second thought, fingers in my ears is the way to go.
Sincerly.
Joe
I'm struggling here. I'm having a hard time picturing you in a Cubs uniform. And the thought that I won't have to wait long to see the reality, is not helpful. So, I'm writing to you on this public place (if you consider the 5 people who visit my blog public) to ask your help, because I'm now 30 and I can't think that plugging my fingers in my ears and pretending this isn't happening is gonna work for me now.
Let's go back a little, shall we, Mr. Edmonds. I have no doubt that you recall the good times as a Cardinal. The 2 World Series appearances. The win over the Tigers (take THAT Detroit!). You had 5 of the best years a Center Feilder has ever had while you were wearing that Cardinal Red uniform.
So, when you asked for a trade this offseason, I didn't begrudge you that. I thought, 'hey, he's done so much for the franchise. He's been a solid player. By all accounts you were a solid clubhouse presence in St. Louis. If he wants to go, then that's okay.' I was still cheering for you, sir. Padre or not, I want Jim Edmonds to play well. Because I remember the joy of watching you make some of the most amazing catches ever. And I remember watching your uppercut swing connect and moonshot a ball into the right field seats.
And now. You'll be a Cub.
I don't begrudge you that. I don't. I realize it's a business and you have to go where the opportunity is. It's in Chicago. So, yeah, I get it. But. I just can't help but remember the game where Carlos Zambrano threw at you. Twice. And how the fans there hated you. And how you seemed to hate playing there. You played 1st base there a couple times because you were having a little trouble seeing the ball off the bat. I don't bring this up to crap on your situation now. I really don't. But. It just seemed to me that if ever there were hostility between a player and an entire situation (from fanbase to field to other stars on the team), this was it.
But. Here we are. And that's okay.
You're doing what you have to do to keep playing. And I honestly wish you well. I hope you bounce back and the uppercut starts mashing the ball into the bleachers. And I hope the Cubs fans embrace you. And hey, at least now Zambrano won't throw at you (probably. I just don't know about that guy.).
Anyway. Good luck Jim. If you need me, you'll have to yell, because on second thought, fingers in my ears is the way to go.
Sincerly.
Joe
Friday, May 2, 2008
my 2 cents...
The Bissinger/Lietch debate about sports blogs and journalism doesn't seem to affect this blog much when you first look at it. I don't really write about sports. I'm not a journalist, nor am I trying to be. I noticed the debate because I'm a deadspin.com reader. I don't generally comment on there, but I do enjoy reading the comments.
But before I delve too much, a quick recap. Bob Costas hosted a forum on which he invited Buzz Bissinger (of "Friday Night Lights" and "3 Days in August" credits, among many others), Will Leitch (of Deadspin.com and "God Save the Fan") and Braylon Edwards (of the Cleveland Browns) to talk about the blogs and their impact on sports journalism. The debate was actually ugly and unhelpful. Bissinger was very angry and it was hard for me to discern what it is he exactly hated about blogs, but the money quotation that's getting thrown around is (and I'm just gonna paraphrase) blogs are devoted to speed and cruelty. The debate that ensued was really not a debate as much as it was a piling on in an emotional and unthinking way. And as such, I wasn't going to say much about it. (Besides others have put more thought into it and have interesting thoughts on it.) But what does stir me to say something (I know you're thinking, Joe, you're writing because we demand your thoughts on this, but no...) was Bissinger's latest comments on NPR.
Here it was, finally, the reason Bissinger got so upset. And, you know what? I surprisingly, agree with him (on some stuff). I agree that it's enough with Lindsey Lohan and Britney Spears. I agree that there's a lot of dumbing down going on in the media and in our culture. And I appreciate that he's willing to say he was too angry to really make his point.
What I don't get is how blogs are responsible for the way that cruelty sells in America right now. It seems to me that tabloid rags have been doing stuff like this for a long time. And most people I know realize this and ignore the National Inquirer and its ilk. If there's any problem with how blogs work now, it's that we're not sure which ones are good and which ones aren't and it's not as easy to tell as with tabloids, which are printed up on that newstock and are put in a row at the cash registers of supermarkets.
I think the urge for cruelty that Bissinger talks about is definitely in our culture, but where he blames blogs, I blame people. The blog is just a template. It takes a person to make it good or bad. And yes, a lot of people post anonymously on the web so they can be cruel. But that's a symptom of larger problems, I think. And it's seen in a lot of places besides blogs.
Which brings me to the part of the Costas-talk where Matt Leinhart and his beer bong pictures are brought up. I agree with Bissinger that Leitch's defense of the Lienhart photos as being "humanising" was a little off. It was probably posted (and I don't know, because I've never even so much as talked to anyone at deadspin) because it was funny. And because it would bring people to the site.
But, you know, the secondary effect of it is that it does make Leinhart more human. And I think that's a good thing. I don't want to root for these marketing giants anymore. I look at Michael Jordan now and admire what he accomplished, but I don't care about it. Same for Derek Jeter. I don't see them as people. I see them as brands. And as such, I don't care much about them any more than I do Nike, McDonalds or General Motors. In the rush to be a global marketing force, they've lost the humanity, the ability to seem relatable to me.
This isn't to take anything away from their accomplishments. Jeter's a great shortstop. Jordan's probably the best ever. But as they've made themselves marketable (and God bless them for cashing in on their fame. I would if I could.) they have to pretend to be these perfect people who have no opinions and have no fun that might be considered offensive. (Remember the story about Jordan where he said (paraphrasing again) Republicans buy shoes too?)
I sort of feel bad for them, now. (Especially with the NFL just kicking guys out of the league for crimes that are never prosecuted, much less proved.) (Though it is hard to feel bad for a guy who makes a pretty nice chunk of cash, but still.) I wouldn't want to have to deal with the papparazzi he probably has to deal with daily. Much less the camera-phone that took these pictures. It does suck.
But it's not like Lienhart did anything wrong. No crime. All he was doing was enjoying the lifestyle his job (and the cash that comes with it) afford him. So, I don't see him as being "humiliated" as Bissinger says this was intended to do. I see him as a young guy who I can kind of relate to now. (Kind of.) And in a vicarious way that goes beyond dreams of playing QB, I like him a little more now. Much in the same way that going on Saturday Night Live made me like Peyton Manning more, because I saw him as more of a regular guy. Clearly these are different because Manning's move was calculated and a marketing effort, but the effect, for me anyway, is similar.
And I'm sure Bissinger could point to more, less savory material that gets posted and doesn't have this effect on us, but I think my point is this: These are normal people who are put in extraordinary circumstances. They have money and fame, but they're still as fragile and stupide and greedy, and horny and interesting as the rest of us. And it's kind of nice to see them this way once in a while, because seeing them on billboards soaring above us doing amazing feets of athletic prowess is great, but the hero worship is enough. It's only good for their marketing and my feelings of inadequecy. And really, there's enough of both to go around.
But before I delve too much, a quick recap. Bob Costas hosted a forum on which he invited Buzz Bissinger (of "Friday Night Lights" and "3 Days in August" credits, among many others), Will Leitch (of Deadspin.com and "God Save the Fan") and Braylon Edwards (of the Cleveland Browns) to talk about the blogs and their impact on sports journalism. The debate was actually ugly and unhelpful. Bissinger was very angry and it was hard for me to discern what it is he exactly hated about blogs, but the money quotation that's getting thrown around is (and I'm just gonna paraphrase) blogs are devoted to speed and cruelty. The debate that ensued was really not a debate as much as it was a piling on in an emotional and unthinking way. And as such, I wasn't going to say much about it. (Besides others have put more thought into it and have interesting thoughts on it.) But what does stir me to say something (I know you're thinking, Joe, you're writing because we demand your thoughts on this, but no...) was Bissinger's latest comments on NPR.
Here it was, finally, the reason Bissinger got so upset. And, you know what? I surprisingly, agree with him (on some stuff). I agree that it's enough with Lindsey Lohan and Britney Spears. I agree that there's a lot of dumbing down going on in the media and in our culture. And I appreciate that he's willing to say he was too angry to really make his point.
What I don't get is how blogs are responsible for the way that cruelty sells in America right now. It seems to me that tabloid rags have been doing stuff like this for a long time. And most people I know realize this and ignore the National Inquirer and its ilk. If there's any problem with how blogs work now, it's that we're not sure which ones are good and which ones aren't and it's not as easy to tell as with tabloids, which are printed up on that newstock and are put in a row at the cash registers of supermarkets.
I think the urge for cruelty that Bissinger talks about is definitely in our culture, but where he blames blogs, I blame people. The blog is just a template. It takes a person to make it good or bad. And yes, a lot of people post anonymously on the web so they can be cruel. But that's a symptom of larger problems, I think. And it's seen in a lot of places besides blogs.
Which brings me to the part of the Costas-talk where Matt Leinhart and his beer bong pictures are brought up. I agree with Bissinger that Leitch's defense of the Lienhart photos as being "humanising" was a little off. It was probably posted (and I don't know, because I've never even so much as talked to anyone at deadspin) because it was funny. And because it would bring people to the site.
But, you know, the secondary effect of it is that it does make Leinhart more human. And I think that's a good thing. I don't want to root for these marketing giants anymore. I look at Michael Jordan now and admire what he accomplished, but I don't care about it. Same for Derek Jeter. I don't see them as people. I see them as brands. And as such, I don't care much about them any more than I do Nike, McDonalds or General Motors. In the rush to be a global marketing force, they've lost the humanity, the ability to seem relatable to me.
This isn't to take anything away from their accomplishments. Jeter's a great shortstop. Jordan's probably the best ever. But as they've made themselves marketable (and God bless them for cashing in on their fame. I would if I could.) they have to pretend to be these perfect people who have no opinions and have no fun that might be considered offensive. (Remember the story about Jordan where he said (paraphrasing again) Republicans buy shoes too?)
I sort of feel bad for them, now. (Especially with the NFL just kicking guys out of the league for crimes that are never prosecuted, much less proved.) (Though it is hard to feel bad for a guy who makes a pretty nice chunk of cash, but still.) I wouldn't want to have to deal with the papparazzi he probably has to deal with daily. Much less the camera-phone that took these pictures. It does suck.
But it's not like Lienhart did anything wrong. No crime. All he was doing was enjoying the lifestyle his job (and the cash that comes with it) afford him. So, I don't see him as being "humiliated" as Bissinger says this was intended to do. I see him as a young guy who I can kind of relate to now. (Kind of.) And in a vicarious way that goes beyond dreams of playing QB, I like him a little more now. Much in the same way that going on Saturday Night Live made me like Peyton Manning more, because I saw him as more of a regular guy. Clearly these are different because Manning's move was calculated and a marketing effort, but the effect, for me anyway, is similar.
And I'm sure Bissinger could point to more, less savory material that gets posted and doesn't have this effect on us, but I think my point is this: These are normal people who are put in extraordinary circumstances. They have money and fame, but they're still as fragile and stupide and greedy, and horny and interesting as the rest of us. And it's kind of nice to see them this way once in a while, because seeing them on billboards soaring above us doing amazing feets of athletic prowess is great, but the hero worship is enough. It's only good for their marketing and my feelings of inadequecy. And really, there's enough of both to go around.
small thoughts for a small day...
- Well. The California Office of the law firm I work with has now also been outsourced. Which probably isn't a surprise, but what is notable is that they used a differenct outsourcing company than the one I've been "acquired" by. (The long story of my "acquiring" was covered here and here.) Apparently, my outsourcing company didn't even get a chance to bid, which has them worried a bit. And that has me worried a bit. It would probably take a little bit for everything to shake out and for me to have to leave (6 months at least according to my boss), but this is really no comfort to me. My plan was to stay here while I attend classes and then see what's out there. Now, I'm changing my plans.
- What really sucks about the possibility of being let go is that I was never really given the tools to succeed. Things don't work here, and for the longest time I blamed myself. But after the outsourcing company had their expert come through, she pointed out that none of it was my fault. My favorite thing she said? "It's not fair. It's not fair to you and it's not particularly well thought-out." It's always nice to hear you're the voice of wisdom (filing wisdom!) in a sea of ignorance (about filing!). I'm like a filing sensei. With poor students. Oh, do I digress?
- But. Bright side of the day. I got in all the stuff I needed to for my paralegal program, and the head of the department emailed me back this morning (just seconds ago, thank you internet). She says things look good and she can't think of a reason I wouldn't be accepted. So. That's nice.
- Dinah's parents are in town for the weekend, which should be nice. I know we're going to the Art Institute for their special exhibition on Hopper and Homer. Which should be good. I was reading in Smithsonian Magazine (yeah, I subscribe to it, because I'm now old.) about Homer and it should be interesting to see his works now that I have an idea of who he was. And of course, I'll make sure I get a chance to look at the haystacks. I know it's cliche, but I love Monet.
- Cardinals/Cubs this weekend in St. Louis. I hope I get the chance to watch at least some of this, but we'll see.
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