Let me get this straight: Ryan Braun gets paid north of $20 million a year to be the aw-shucks kid turned Joe DiMaggio, the face of the Milwaukee Brewers, and the great white hope of a metro area that has never come to terms with its racial diversity. And we're supposed to be shocked and angry that he acts like a spoiled celebrity?
Baseball as a Road to God
Seeing Beyond the Game
John Sexton, with Thomas Oliphant and Peter J. Schwartz
I have friends who always count the days till spring training begins. Now that it’s underway, their thoughts are moving on to their teams’ post-season chances. I’m not a big baseball fan myself, but I appreciate the game’s storied place in American culture.
"Please stand and take off your hats for the singing of 'God
Bless America.'" That's how the announcer introduced the seventh inning stretch
at a recent Minnesota Twins game I attended. Minnesotans are nothing if not
rule followers, so we stood, many took off their hats, and some even joined in
When a Los Angeles Dodger hit a grand-slam home run off of the Cubs’ most reliable pitcher in the first game of the National League division series, a great silence descended on Wrigley Field. I was there, one of 42,000 faithful who thought this might be the year our team would go all the way.
In fifth grade my Little League baseball team lost its first five games. Our coach quit. We got a new coach, a 16-year-old named Don Crosby. Don was a great player and should have been on the high school team, but he hadn’t passed enough classes to be eligible. Today he’d probably be diagnosed as having a learning disability, but back then he was just plain out of luck. Don was only four or five years older than we were, but he easily established his authority with us. He made us run lots of laps around the swing set at the far end of the school yard. He told us we were not to talk when he was talking, and when we answered him, we were to say “Yes sir” and “No sir.”