Saturday, July 29, 2006

So Not Clutch

In lieu of Big Papi's performance today, yet another example of why he is the best player in the game of baseball right now, I think the topic of "clutch" deserves some space here. And while the baseball statisticians haven't come up with a way to measure performances readily referred to as "clutch", it does have a quantifiable quality in my mind. And since I dabble in philosophy, I must define that term.

Clutch: With the game on the line (read: a chance to win or tie for your team), and you come through.

Of course, not doing that would be defined as not-clutch. And to accomplish that feat, you have to, obviously, do the opposite. I present to you the three not-clutch performances of my life:

1. Soccer. I was 12. The playoff game went into penalty kicks. The other team was up one goal in PK's. I was the 5th and final kicker. I needed to score to put the pressure on them. I set the ball. And always one for literary moments, offered these words to the referee (mind you I was 12): "This is where dreams are made." I kicked. It was my best Panenka kick ever. Only the ball trickled right down the center, skipping along, never leaving the ground. The goalie even dove to his right, got up and picked the ball up. We lose. They win.

2. Basketball. For four years I had tried to win an intramural championship. Now it was spring semester of my senior year and I finally got on a team that went to the championship. Center court. The ladies' was watchin'. We score with 13 seconds left, take a one point lead. I figure they're going to call a T.O.. Instead, they inbound the ball quickly to this super quick biology major who hasn't scored all game. It's my guy. I figure then they'll call timeout at half-court. Instead he keeps dribbling. I pick him up, force him to his left (he had no left). He drives down. 5 seconds left. He gets by me. He twirls in the lane, gets fouled by three people and hits the shot. And the foul shot. 1 second left. We lose.

3. Softball. I step up. They're playing me shallow in right field. I crush the ball all the way to the fence. I'm fast, so I'm thinking three. I get to second and they haven't gotten the ball yet. So I'm thinking homerun. I get around third and look-up. The ball's still in the outfield. I coast into the plate. With my last step before I score, I decide to hop up and slam my left foot emphatically on home plate. Mind you, I'm not a proud man. As my foot lands on the plate, my knee locks and pops. I roll all the way to the backstop. I'm in serious pain. But, I manage to hear the crowd go from cheering to silence to laughter. And I tore my MCL.

The thing of it is: I've been clutch quite often in my life. Even recently. But, like I said, I'm not a proud man.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

This Sounds Familiar

(For those of you are regular patrons at The Bird and Baby, I apologize for the repetition, but enjoy the added video links! For everyone else, you can figure out what that last sentence means by taking 10 minutes to read this entry and the subsequent comments.)

Don't know how much any of you know about string theory. Can't say I know a whole lot myself. In fact, most of what I know is third-hand information. It's not like I'm reading material on the subject, though Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time" is sitting on the shelf just above my head. A must read, by the way.

In short, beneath all the atoms and quarks of the known universe there exist strings. Strings which vibrate and give rise to said quarks and atoms and then, me. Now this is highly theoretical science, and as the suggested link points out quite accurately, it's considered philosophy. Without delving into the pros and cons, let's just accept it as fact. This leads me to my idea:

I think string theory proves God likes music. If at life's most basic level, there are vibrating strings, then God's a musician. Probably a guitarist. (I think the cello might be too big for God.) And along those lines, the big bang makes sense. The only question that remains is if it was a G chord, or an D minor that ignited the world into being. I'm going with G because "D minor is the saddest of all keys, I find. People weep instantly when they hear it" and I can't see God weeping at the creation of the world.

The thing of it is: I wonder what would've happened if God turned up the volume just a little bit, like, say, to 11?

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Q To 12

There might not be a bigger fan of Calvin and Hobbes on the planet. Well...other than Watterson himself. I'll post more on that in the time to come. You see, I'm back on my Calvin and Hobbes kick. So much so that I actually like the name Calvin for a boy's name for when I have kids. Even though that name embodies a deterministic philosophy, to some extent. But hey, it's not like the kid will have a choice!

Anyway, I've found this game that embodies three of my more recent examinations on this blog. Calvinball.

1. Postmodernism. Maybe I haven't out and out embraced this philosophy yet, but I feel like I'm close. Calvinball on the surface looks more like the most associated and attacked form of the philosophy. The one that comes out of a few French philosophers on the fringe of the movement. Most of the game appears relative. But I refer to you to the rules that govern the lack of rules. Not that they make any sense, though.

2. Inventing Games. I've already told you about Awesome Catches. And I've got a few more games that I've remembered in recent weeks that I haven't posted about. As I'm sure you do. Including one a co-worker and I invented for those long saturdays at the network.

3. Childhood Imagination. This idea has always been with me and will always be with me. I've already mentioned what my favorite author says on the subject. And I think sometimes as adults we like to have everything explained. Our boundaries defined. And so what if the game makes absolutely no sense...if it's outside the edges of reason. Just because you can explain something, you can understand a given thing, doesn't make it fun.

The absurd is what makes life fun, even if it makes no sense. Even if there's no Santa Claus, it's fun to think there might be. My faith is founded on an absurd premise: that God became man and dwelt among us. You might think that sacrilegious. To you, it might be a cut and dry idea. But to me it is filled with mystery. And where there is mystery, there is awe. And where there is awe, there is imagination. And where there is imagination, there is a child.

The thing of it is: How about Calvin Wesley Guest? Would that balance it out?

Sunday, July 23, 2006

With God On Our Side

(All apologies to Dylan for the title)

Turns out one of the candidates for governor here in Ohio graduated from the same seminary I am now attending. Does this mean I'll vote for him? He being a democrat and all! I'm not sure yet. (Or does this mean I'm going to a liberal seminary?) I did like his answers when it comes to Religion and God in politics more than his opponent. And though I am pretty much disillusioned by politics and thereby usually avoid the topic, it's come up enough recently that I've got some thoughts on it.

You see, I'm not a huge fan of invoking the whole God thing. In politics. In sports. At breakfast. I'm tired of hearing that this nation is founded on the basis of Christianity. Our founding fathers were Deists. T.J. even had his own bible. Read a history book.

All that I said it's not that I think Christians, Jews or Muslims shouldn't be involved in politics if they were to be "true" to their religion. Actually, I've got some respect for those that are involved. Politics are compromising. It can be very difficult on anyone's faith. A Christian Republican who says, "It's God's will that I be elected" doesn't have any more pull with God than a Christian Democrat. And I tire of hearing otherwise.

Let's not even get into the fact how I think religion is the catchphrase for politicians these days.

So how should faith and religion "govern" a politician? I don't know. I have enough trouble with faith and religion governing me.

The thing of it is: If you were God, who's side would you be on: Tom Brady or Peyton Manning?

Friday, July 21, 2006

Wish That I Knew What I Know Now


This weekend I hope you all enjoy the British Open. And with Tiger's 65 today, it's always fun to watch someone crush the field. So it should provide hours of entertainment in the wee hours of Saturday and Sunday mornings.

And while you're watching, you'll see this, Tiger's new Nike ad. This new ad highlights the beauty of the sport. The beauty of the swing. The serenity of it. Note the violins.

It's not up there with last year's Faces song that featured a young Tiger playing the British open. It illustrated the idea of child-like joy. It still makes me ferklempt. Even just thinking about it.

The way Tiger consistently performs on tour, I think that child-like joy describes it. Reminds me of Chesterton's view of God in Orthodoxy. The persistent tendency to "do it again". Like children who never tire of watching The Wiggles video, over and over and over again. G.K. poses the idea that God never tires of creating. And does it anew each morning. From each blade of grass to each sunrise to each drop of dew. It's a persistency we only see mirrored in kids. We, in our old age, have grown weary.

I don't enjoy that ad because it reminds me of God in anyway. I enjoy the ad because it's fun.

The thing of it is: I'm not sure I could watch it over and over and over again. But I'm just an old-fuddy-duddy.

Monday, July 17, 2006

The Beautiful Side Of Somewhere


Recently, I've been meditating on the idea of the extraordinary. That it exists on the "far side of the ordinary" (Letters to a Young Catholic, by George Weigel). I think this is an important distinction. I've noticed, in such meditations, that something of greater value tends to reflect the lesser in someway.

We are moved by the grandeur of a nature scene not because it is something new to our eyes or even our imagination. But because it encompasses more of what we expected than what we expected.

I do not know where the ordinary and extraordinary change hands. Only that they do. And I am convinced it lies on the beautiful side of somewhere. Somewhere just beyond our grasp, and yet, a place we know quite well. A place we need to "know again, for the first time".

Saturday, July 15, 2006

The Dilemma

So I've seen a lot of those "Hit it Here" signs at baseball games recently. Here's my question for you: Say he does "hit it [there]"?

You have two options:

1. Drop the sign and make an effort to catch the ball. Say you do catch it, then you've got a souvenir.

2. Keep the sign up, perhaps even angling it a little to coax the ball into the target.

I'd go with the latter. Then, you could say he actually "Hit it here". Yeah, you wouldn't have a ball. But why'd you bring the sign to the game then? What does that sign represent then? Is it just a tease for the hitter? Is it a metaphor for something larger? Just a way to veil your greed? A way to get around the old "I'm over 15 so I can't bring my glove to the park and still look cool" rule?

The thing of it is: If I'm a hitter, and I work my best to hit the target (no small feat, mind you) and you drop the sign to catch the ball, I'd be pretty ticked.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

On Being And Manny

So Manny didn't play. He didn't even show for the All-Star Game. Also, Jimmy cracked corn. Turns out today Bud Selig's ripped Manny a new one for not showing up despite being the leading vote getter. Putting aside the "knee injury" and Manny's history of being, well, himself, let's look at why I don't care about the game, or about Manny not being there.

The All-Star game used to be the opportunity for the stars to come out (Note: For further information on this I refer you to FOX's abhorrent opening montage before last night's game). It used to be the one time all year you got to see all the stars play on the same field.

But with all the saturation in the media of baseball games: MLB.tv, Extra Innings, Sunday/Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday/Leap Year Night Baseball, and FOX Saturday games, plus Interleague play, I can watch the "stars" play all the time. In the 60s, 70s and 80s, you maybe saw two games a week!

Look at the original fan voting, the AL "stars" were all Yankees and Red Sox. They play 19 times a year.

Remember, these are the same fans that voted in A.J. Pierzyinskimackovichjerkface. And not Travis Hafner. Or Francisco Liriano. Or Chris Capuano. Clearly, then, fan voting is a popularity contest. Not a true measure of the "stars" (despite, once again, that great opening montage by FOX).

And what does Manny's being at the game prove? That he's the most popular kid in the majors? Oh my gosh, no way! I so voted for him. He did not dis me like that. I cannot believe, he, like, isn't here.

Bud's an idiot. The game's stupid. And Manny's somewhere in the Amazon I believe.

The thing of it is: Do you think that in the next 7 years, FOX can get Zalasko and Kennedy some headsets? It's the 21st century. Can't we at least pay someone to hold their mic's for them? It's ridiculous.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Get In My Belly

Perhaps I am a day late and a dollar short on this whole Zinedine Zidane fiasco at the World Cup. Regardless, here's a $1.02 for you.

Aside from the obvious way this sullied the final game of an otherwise exciting tournament (ratings were up 180% in the finals from '02). Aside from the irresponsible and reckless behavior, I think there are two things that have been lost in all the analysis.

1. The Italians are pansies! Someone cold-cocks you with his head, into your chest, and you fall down, writhing in pain. Your teammates, meanwhile, complain to the official. If you'd've been my teammate, I'd zizou'ed the dude and started a brawl. But, alas, the Italians, try to milk it and eventually get ZZ red carded (I'd argue no ref saw it till they showed the replay). Look at it from this perspective:

Marco Materazzi is lying on the scorer's table, meanwhile the refs are trying to sort out fouls on both the Piston's and Pacers. All of sudden, a plastic cup of water hits Materazzi. Materazzi rolls off the scorers table, sinking to the floor, clutching his chest, writhing in pain.

2. These types of things are bound to happen when you have two people with that many Z's in their names.

The thing of it is: I stopped caring after the incident. It sucked the life out of the beautiful game.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Texas Sized Superlatives

The Republic of Texas Reminds of This:

Song: Not Dark Yet, Bob Dylan. I only listened to this after I left Texas, but when I did hear it, it felt like I was driving back through the state. Great song. Great state.

Movie: U-Turn. If you've been to Texas, you know what I mean.

Actor: Eddie Murphy. He's had some hits. And they've been very entertaining. But in those long spaces of time between hits, his movies have only been sadly entertaining. Well. That's what it's like to drive through Texas. Occasionally, you come across a major stop on the road and it's entertaining. But in the intervening hours between them, only sad entertainment.

Actress: Reese Witherspoon. With her films, you know what you're going to get, no surprises. Texas is much the same way. You know what you're in for when you drive through it. Still, it doesn't fail in the end.

Drink: Dr. Thunder. It tastes the same as Dr. Pepper, but it's cheaper and comes minus the ad campaign. Texas, also, isn't a name brand. It's not California, or New York, or Florida.

Slogan: Drivers Wanted. If Texas had or does employ this slogan, say in the form of "People Wanted" to pump up the state...chances are... I'll end up moving to Texas.

Life Event: Quitting your job. Because you have to have a reason for doing that. People, also, don't just up and go to Texas. They have to have a reason. You have to have a reason.

Poem: The Wasteland, T.S. Eliot. Not read all of it, but seems like it would remind me of Texas.

Book: Any textbook you get at the beginning of a class. You think, man, I'm going to have to read this whole book! It's a little overwhelming. Same feeling after you've driven through Texas.

Band: Hootie and the Blowfish. Because they were pretty cool at first. But did you know 12 years later, they're still here. When you first get into Texas, it's like: "Cool, I'm in Texas". But after hours upon hours of driving, it's like: "I'm still here?".

Smell: Like someone farted on a rotten egg. I apologize for being crass. You have Texarkana to thank.

President: Ronald Reagan. Because he was so recent and so much larger than life, everyone thinks they know about Reagan. But they don't know. Texas is also quite large, and people think they know Texas based on popular opinions of Texas. I assure you then, you don't know Texas.

Philosopher: Immanuel Kant. He wrote a lot but if you've read all of what he wrote, I guarantee you, you won't be quite sure of what he's said in the end. Texas is quite large, but you're not sure what to make of it. It could go either way.

Game: Awesome Catches. Because Texas is something that was made up as developers went along. And it doesn't quite make sense in the end. If we had further developed Awesome Catches would've involved stat keeping that amounted to: catches made while leaping to one's left, catching the ball 9 inches over the fence and landing with two feet. With less than two outs. On grass. At night.

Sport: Soccer. Because everyone thinks they know about Texas. And everyone thinks it's stupid. But there's a lot more to it.

Two other points to note:

The most consistent thing you'll see in Texas is the random walker. Usually, the person is walking down the middle of the street, by themself, at a random time. I call them R-Dubs. If you've ever been to Texas, you know what I mean. Very bizarre.

Also, Texas Roadhouse isn't called just Roadhouse in Texas. Texans still call it Texas Roadhouse.

The Language Of Ark

My recent Texas excursion took me through the state of Arkansas:

Does it bother anyone else that Arkansas is merely Kansas with an ark? Well. It bothers me. There are also several cities in that state that employ the same etymological method: adding ark to names of already existing places.

Take for example Dalark, Arkansas. Formed by part of Dallas and part of Arkansas.

Or my favorite: Arkadelphia, Arkansas. Formed by adding Ark to a part of Philadelphia.

Arkadelphia was once known as the "City of Rainbows", perhaps because it receives more than its fair share of annual rainfall. Arc- (or Ark-) in the city's name may derive from the French for rainbow. The latter half of the name may be derived from adelphia (used to mean "brother" or "brotherhood" although it literally means "from the same womb").

Nice try. Really, I feel it was just laziness. And do Arkadelphians feel that they share something in common with Philadelphians? And notice how only the ark- part of Arkansas is being used. They're not using the -kansas part. Obviously, Philakansas doesn't sound good.

So I think I might starting adding ark to words. Hope you enjoy this arklog entry. Or, I love arkball and arkcer. Hey, do you see the new Arkman! Is it arknight yet?

The thing of it is: My family hails from Arkansas. Paragould, that is. There, that's a shout out to you arkpa.


Some Reading Material

For those avid readers of this blog, I apologize. I've just returned from a four day journey to Texas and haven't made a blog entry in awhile. Don't worry. There's plenty more to come. Though that doesn't mean you can expect a similar entry to my Boston excursion; a minute by minute blogging of a 20+ hr, 2-day roadtrip in a Budget van towing a trailer doesn't translate well on the internet. Still. No worries, I know you'll enjoy the entry.

In the meantime, I give you some reading material that, seem to me at least, to be timeless entries:

1. Questions In Heaven: Because I no longer believe in the rapture (thanks Eric!), I fear these questions may go unanswered. Also, in honor of my trip to Waco, I don't think this guy ever got them answered.

2. A Score To Settle: Though, after Sunday, I don't think I'll make many more soccer entries.

3. What This Word Means Ever: Because no one has used this correctly. Yet!

4. Friday. May 12. 2006: So you know what not to expect in my next entry.

5. To the Mrs.: Because she started work this week. Her first day as a Doctor. And I wasn't here.