Manny being Manny. That's all it is. Isn't it? Just a few weeks ago I was praising my resurgent undying passion for the game of baseball. I believed it was heading mostly back in the right direction after the Rocket and Barry fiasco of a few years ago. I even went as far to say that, and I quote, "The closest baseball has to a prima donna [now] is Manny being Manny - and I love everything he does." - Kieran Wilson, a few weeks ago on (or is it in?) his blog. So, now, (because of ManRam's recent suspension for testing positive to performance enhancing drugs, that of course, he attributes to a false positive) am I supposed to believe that all of those Manny being Manny moments were tainted because of steroids (or a banned medication, as his lawyers call it)? Like that time when he cut off Johnny Damon's throw to home from center field - from his position 15 feet away in left field. Or how about that play where he almost simultaneously and in one swift motion, caught a deep fly ball and jumped up to high-five a fan in the first row? Or when he disappeared through a door in the green monster with two outs in the top of the sixth inning during a pitching change - to pee? Can that be attributed to being a Manny Moment or a stick the needle in my ass moment? Is everything we, as fans, viewers, or just plain people, cheer for, watch or just plain enjoy - a sham, farce or just plain fake? Was the time that Manny hit that long fly ball from to center field, then stood in the batters box admiring his sure-to-be-home-run, only to watch as the center fielder caught the ball easily at the warning track - supposed to be detrimental to and a stain on the game instead of being hilarious and fun? What else do I love and hold dear to my heart like baseball and its heroes, that will only one day turn out to be a crock of shit - and detrimental to my mental well being as a person and general stability of all I know as being true? Am I going to one day read on the front page of the newspaper that, Michael Keaton's beard in Mr. Mom was a fake? Real hair (donated from his back and arms), but fake beard. Will I realize that the dirtball strutting by my house, the one who's always fighting with his dirtball pregnant girlfriend about cigarettes or why he's always out with his dirtball friends - is one day going to be a good father and a productive, positive member of society? Will I? Am I supposed to believe that someone did (or did not) poison my family's pet cat with anti-freeze or was Snoop sent up (or is it down?) to Earth by Satan (or God) to wreak havoc on my mother's furniture and help wipe out Beelzebub's (or the Father of Jesus') only known nemesis (birds). That one, maybe not. But the others, who knows? When every seemingly law abiding, decent, politician out there is being sent to jail for ponzi schemes, kinky sex and murder for hire, where do you turn? To 80's hair metal band Poison, that's who. Just like slick ass back then, but now pathetic Bret Michaels says, 'Give me something to believe in,' please? Am I supposed to believe that coffee, cigarettes and booze are bad for you? Who'll be the next fallen hero or indicted star and, what will I read next on the back page of Sports Illustrated that will ruin my day? What most familiar and influential part of my childhood is going to turn out to be a publicity stunt or uncovered by Geraldo as, not true? Was the roar of '84 just an animal reference taken out of context? Who's next? Is Dustin Hoffman Hitler's great grandchild? And am I going to find that out on Late Night with Jimmy Kimmel, or Late Night with Jimmy Fallon or Late Night with Leno or Conan or Late Night with Late Night, whatever? This is why I try to stay away from the news. Because its usually bad news. However, it was news to me to find out about Windsor losing its only local television station and news channel. What I'm saying is that, news will silently and swiftly man-track you when you're out of breath and fifteen feet from the finish line, and getting caught with a lasso is no fun - which is why I run (usually ride) from news. Preferably in an east to west fashion down a soft wind into a warm pink sky. If news is nothing more than a distraction from more important things (which we all know it is), then does it not make sense that we should distract ourselves from the news with life. Warm Pink Life.
No comments:
Post a Comment