Meehan: Doppler effects
All I can say is that, notwithstanding the inconsistent mental and physical play of my LA Dodgers so far this season, thank God for baseball! In the current political climate of chaos and cacophony, relative peace can be found even in the continual inability of one’s own to move the runner over with less than two outs.
As opposed to emanations from the media circus, which for all intents and purposes seemingly approach and recede at the speed of light, for the most part, utterances from the broadcast booth are more measured, more nuanced, more erudite.
I’m thinking of starting up a write-in campaign: "Vin Scully for President." Although I’m pretty sure he’s from the old school right, I would rather have a political foe I like in office than any of the other reactionaries who’ve shown their mostly empty heads so far. And how ’bout Jon Miller for veep?
Although I often begin my day with the usual suspects wafting within the noxious fumes of the 24/7 news cycle, it doesn’t take long to retreat to the previous night’s box scores. As I’m not much of a "hater" when it comes to these things, the entirety of the sport is pretty much a comfort zone.
Naturally I don’t root for the Giants to win but, when they do, which is often the case during even-numbered years of late, it doesn’t ruin my summer. I love the entirety of the Bay Area: AT&T Park, Berkeley, North Beach, the wonderful literary watering holes and cafes, Cal and Stanford, Tommy’s Tequila Mecca — the whole shebang.
Of course, it would take about 100 such columns to list what I love about LA and 200 to truly capture the terms of endearment I feel for my adopted home state of Utah. Did I mention that the University of Utah Utes baseball team recently sewed up the Pac-12 title and thereby, even with a losing record, drew a bid to the NCAA tournament?
But back to my quite ecumenical take as a fan on the sport of baseball and the therapeutic emotional massage that comes with the territory. It allows me not only to root for both the Cubs and White Sox but also to root against both the Yankees and Red Sox. Poetry as chess, ballet as theoretical physics, hickory and horsehide as philosophy, that’s baseball!
Earlier in the current political campaign, an astronomical "redshift" occurred within the optical spectrum as Republican movers and shakers expanded their universe by distancing themselves from their party’s presumptive nominee. The "blueshift" that began once the bottom of the integrity market fell out has seen many of them, not unlike lapdogs, return to the fold.
Doppler effects are like that. Wave frequencies change for an observer moving relative to its source. I hope no one I know and care about ended up in the path of the re-reborn-again Marco Rubio as he sprinted back to his prematurely orange daddy. Word is he even apologized for his "small hands" joke.
At least I had the stats that showed my "Bums" getting one-hit by the Cubbies to fall back on. The fact that Jake Arrieta, who no-hit them last time out, takes the mound against LA Tuesday night is much easier to look forward to than, say, Paul Ryan’s impending spin on why his upcoming decision to genuflect before Trump does not mean he lost his religion. I have that going for me!
We now know that Hillary Clinton will unify the Republican Party. The question has become: Will Donald Trump unify the Dems? Chase Utley recently pulled a double-switch when, during LA’s recent stop at Citi Field in Flushing Meadows, he became the rallying point for both ballclubs.
The deep dislike Met fans always felt for the relatively new Dodger infielder due to his many years in a Phillies uniform developed a pituitary problem once his hard take-out slide into second base during the playoffs last year fractured the fibula bone of shortstop Ruben Tejada.
It’s even possible that Utley’s poll negatives approached those of the Donald and the Hillary, at least in the New York City borough of Queens. Within the friendly confines of LA County, however, they are fast approaching a coefficient of favorability as yet only achieved by the Junior US Senator from Vermont.
What I will have to fall back upon once the baseball season ends with Election Day still looming a few weeks into the future is anybody’s guess. There are always The Macallan 12 and the Lagavulin 16 single malts, I suppose.
Jay Meehan is a culture junkie and has been an observer, participant, and chronicler of the Park City and Wasatch County social scenes for more than 40 years.