So let's set the record straight. If your boyhood hero hit a milestone, and you had a chance to be a unique part of it, you SHOULD do the noble thing and make a contribution to that hero.
In case you weren't aware, Derek Jeter of the Yankees hit a homer to reach the 3,000 hit plateau for his career. As a rule, I can't like a Yankee, being a Phillies fan, but I have always thought that Jeter has done it right. He is a super player, and he has been classy along the way. If I were asked to try to like a Yankee, he would be the first choice.
Christian Lopez, a 23 year old fan in the stands for the event, had the great fortune to catch the ball that capped Jeter's pursuit of 3,000 hits. Naturally, eschewing the instinct to see the good luck as a chance to cash in - by holding someone hostage to the tune of hundreds of thousands of dollars for the piece of memorabilia, the young man decided to be as classy as his hero, by returning the ball, with no demand for payback.
Sure, he said he'd like to meet Derek, and he thought an autograph or two would be nice, but in the end he made no demands. Had he been me, a fifty-year-old guy who can't elevate these professional athletes to a pedestal anymore, perhaps one could question the decision. But given the circumstances, he did what he had to do.
My first ballplayer hero was Larry Bowa, who didn't ever get near the milestone of 3,000 hits. So to try to make a half-decent comparision, let's say I came up with a ball he hit for a ground rule double in the 1980 World Series, and let's say that hit clinched the Series win. At that moment, I would want the chance to be part of Larry's finest moment - for the rest of my life, and his. A picture with him would have sufficed. For much of his early career, the Phillies were terrible, and still I loved watching him play. I would not have had a chance of seeing my fortune to be financially lucrative.
All the columnists and talk radio guys are being short-sighted, and therefore, predictably foolish. The ball isn't a lottery ticket, except in the sense that it can represent a stroke of luck that binds a regular boy and his baseball hero forever. That boy can tell that story for the next fifty or sixty years. To some extent, I think it justifiable if the boy says he is simply going to keep the ball, put it on his mantlepiece, and maybe someday donate it to the Yankee museum, or the Baseball Hall of Fame, or maybe leave it to his own children, so they can continue the story.
The point is that we are all bound in our decision-making by the forces that control us at any given point in time. Middle age men don't have the ability to idol worship anymore, unless the subject is their own children, or later, grandchildren. To me, Derek Jeter is a kid playing ball for lots of money; he is not a model of what I want to be someday. Likewise, I couldn't feel that same allegiance to any of the current Phillies, for whom I love to cheer. Ryan Howard's 800th homer - yes I am being a bit silly - would go on the market should I be the one to catch it. Ryan could certainly make a reasonable bid that I would be inclined to accept, but the money would be more improtant to me now. Perhaps that means I have grown old and jaded, but I have earned each smudge and smear on that once pristine soul.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
I Don't Care About the Casey Anthony Trial
My wife cares a great deal about the Casey Anthony trial, and her sympathy and empathy are among her most enviable traits. By osmosis, because she was riveted to it, I have become relatively familiar with the details, having sat in the room reading or playing on the computer while she hung on as many words as she was capable of taking in.
I don't care about the trial. I care that a young child was killed, and I care that her mother was not held very accountable for taking care of that daughter. I just don't care about the theatrics and the media circus of the trial.
In fact, I object to very many things associated with it. A heinous incident occurred. Because I didn't engage on an emotional level, I can't say that I have an opinion on whether her mother did it or not. I don't care about that either. My caring begins with the notion that a parent is supposed to take care of his or her children. This mother didn't. She should be held responsible, on some level, for what happened.
To my wife and the others who engaged and invested - please don't hold ill will toward the jurors, who in my opinion, reached the only verdict they could. The prosecution may have proved that the mother considered killing her daughter; they may have proved that she is a lying, conniving monster who was willing to cast suspicion on anyone she could, including her parents and sibling. From my vantage point, since they don't know exactly the manner of death, or the cause of death, and since they can't put mother in the room when the death occurred, they can't convict for murder.
Now the real source of my annoyance is the ridiculous coverage of the trial. At least five Nancy Grace's sprouted when this trial commenced, all of them yelling at the TV audience in one manner or another, and none of them apparently capable of providing one scintilla of information that matters. Like many of the riveted audience members, they were incapable of dong what a journalist ought to do - provide some insightful thoughts.
The problem is with the coverage itself. I contend that the general public's inclusion in the trial subverts the justice system. Jurors need to be harvested from another area so that they might be found unbiased. Then, all of the yelling faces insert themselves into the mechanics of the trial. We all know that the lawyers, the witnesses, the police themselves have been influenced by what the screaming faces have said. Sure, they pretend to be unaffected, rising high above normal human behavior to maintain their objectivity, but none of us would really be able to do so. I therefore don't blame them. I blame the notion that the general public has some right to know the case on an intimate level, which is what the screaming faces purport to provide.
I don't know that the outcome of the trial was affected by all of the hullabaloo; in fact, that's my point. I don't want that to be a consideration. I want the court to summarily reject all requests for TV or radio, or computer access. If the screaming faces are going to scream, let them do so on the basis of having sat through the tedium themselves, or let them rely on professional reporters to go in and sift through the mountains of factoids.
Get the cameras out of the courtroom. Allow no obvious external obstacles to objectivity or clarity. Audience, since my preferences are not going to be met, stop watching the screaming faces unless they do their jobs and augment the audience's understanding of the situation.
Quite simply, the prosecution did not prove the mother guilty, as I see it. They tried to rely on the juror's expected emotional response to the odious circumstance of the little girl's death. Their case should have been laid out as I noted above. Parents should take care of their kids. They should have been able to prove that this one didn't.
I don't care about the trial. I care that a young child was killed, and I care that her mother was not held very accountable for taking care of that daughter. I just don't care about the theatrics and the media circus of the trial.
In fact, I object to very many things associated with it. A heinous incident occurred. Because I didn't engage on an emotional level, I can't say that I have an opinion on whether her mother did it or not. I don't care about that either. My caring begins with the notion that a parent is supposed to take care of his or her children. This mother didn't. She should be held responsible, on some level, for what happened.
To my wife and the others who engaged and invested - please don't hold ill will toward the jurors, who in my opinion, reached the only verdict they could. The prosecution may have proved that the mother considered killing her daughter; they may have proved that she is a lying, conniving monster who was willing to cast suspicion on anyone she could, including her parents and sibling. From my vantage point, since they don't know exactly the manner of death, or the cause of death, and since they can't put mother in the room when the death occurred, they can't convict for murder.
Now the real source of my annoyance is the ridiculous coverage of the trial. At least five Nancy Grace's sprouted when this trial commenced, all of them yelling at the TV audience in one manner or another, and none of them apparently capable of providing one scintilla of information that matters. Like many of the riveted audience members, they were incapable of dong what a journalist ought to do - provide some insightful thoughts.
The problem is with the coverage itself. I contend that the general public's inclusion in the trial subverts the justice system. Jurors need to be harvested from another area so that they might be found unbiased. Then, all of the yelling faces insert themselves into the mechanics of the trial. We all know that the lawyers, the witnesses, the police themselves have been influenced by what the screaming faces have said. Sure, they pretend to be unaffected, rising high above normal human behavior to maintain their objectivity, but none of us would really be able to do so. I therefore don't blame them. I blame the notion that the general public has some right to know the case on an intimate level, which is what the screaming faces purport to provide.
I don't know that the outcome of the trial was affected by all of the hullabaloo; in fact, that's my point. I don't want that to be a consideration. I want the court to summarily reject all requests for TV or radio, or computer access. If the screaming faces are going to scream, let them do so on the basis of having sat through the tedium themselves, or let them rely on professional reporters to go in and sift through the mountains of factoids.
Get the cameras out of the courtroom. Allow no obvious external obstacles to objectivity or clarity. Audience, since my preferences are not going to be met, stop watching the screaming faces unless they do their jobs and augment the audience's understanding of the situation.
Quite simply, the prosecution did not prove the mother guilty, as I see it. They tried to rely on the juror's expected emotional response to the odious circumstance of the little girl's death. Their case should have been laid out as I noted above. Parents should take care of their kids. They should have been able to prove that this one didn't.
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