Is it too cliche to be Madison Bumgarner for Halloween this year? I’d like to think I could get away with it. After all, who called his Game Five performance something resembling Muhammad Ali? Well, Game Seven matched it. Remember, stars shine when the lights are brightest.
Today, of course, is Halloween, one of my favorite holidays. This is my son’s first, and my ninth without the master of all things Halloween. So here’s to Bart Simpson, Michael Myers, Roseanne Conner, Charlie Brown, and everyone who makes Halloween special..
I’ve received flak from two disparate sources the last 48 hours re: Monday’s post. One, that I would compare a single baseball game to the greatest boxing match of all time. I stand by the analogy. Memorable performance with the whole world watching.
And speaking of such performances, I was gently reminded (chided?) that I neglected to mention the anniversary of another October 1974 event: Frank Sinatra’s performance at Madison Square Garden on October 13, 1974. Billed as the “Main Event,” Sinatra was broadcasted live to the entire Western Hemisphere, an honor rare in the pre-Internet era. Presided over by none other than Howard Cosell, the show truly had the feel of a championship fight.
So tonight, with the whole world watching, which stars will shine brightest in Game Seven of the 2014 Fall Classic? Tune in to find out.
Madison Bumgarner’s pitching performance in last night’s Game Five of the World Series deserves the word epic, an epithet used all too often by tweens and Tweeters in 2014, but completely apropos in its traditional meaning here.
Last night’s contest wasn’t exactly a rumble in the jungle (more like play by the bay), but the gutty performance did call to mind the work of a certain Mr. Ali, who 40 years ago this week defeated a certain Mr. Foreman in what some consider the greatest boxing match, nay, greatest sporting event of the 20th century.
On October 30, 1974 (at 4 a.m. local time to accommodate Western TV audiences), Muhammad Ali knocked out George Foreman in Kinshasa, Zaire: a nation that no longer exists on a continent known today only by the fact that some people there carry the Ebola virus. The match was a culmination of what turned out to be a month-long celebration of music, sports, and black culture that would be unrecognizable today. And entirely politically incorrect. Well, maybe.
For a nostalgic look at this event watch the Oscar-winning documentary When We Were Kings, now 18 years old but still relevant and still awesome today. You’ll thank me later.
Rep. Steve King (R-Iowa) will hold his annual pheasant hunt this weekend among Republican bigwigs and aspirants. Faux conservative and 2016 GOP presidential hopeful Chris Christie will attend, apparently, but not hunt. Scheduling conflict.
Squeamishness and apologies for conservative thought has already begun for 2016 among our own. As I often find myself saying, “With Republicans like these…”
The stage was set: two deserving teams from deserving cities, meeting at this most worthy park, denied of World Series glory for 29 years.
If Tuesday’s game was any indication, it’ll be 30.
Game One never really found the drama and intrigue found in nearly every other playoff game this year, and America’s new darlings, the Kansas City Royals, lost for the first time in weeks. Yup, those were the Royals I grew up with.
Kudos, though, for Fox’s coverage of the game. Even a bad game will sound good when called by Joe Buck, Harold Reynolds, and Tom Verducci. Yeah, those guys cane together, and unlike most modern broadcasts, the graphics weren’t overdone.
See y’all for Game Two!
Notre Dame, Notre Dame, you’ve done it to me again. The Irish, the last 25 years in marquee match-ups like Saturday’s instant classic with Florida State, have begun to look a little like Lucy holding the football for Charlie Brown.
And for 25 years, I’ve been Charlie Brown.
Travis Ishikawa’s walk-off home run last night capped off one of the greatest two weeks of baseball games I have ever seen. The thunderous applause at AT&T Park, though, may have drowned out the sobs of Fox studio executives, left with no product until Tuesday and a World Series featuring the media captials of San Francisco and Kansas City. Oops.
Regardless of market share or ratings or anything else I don’t particularly care about, I plan for this World Series to be one of the best in memory. Simple fact: you’ve got two really good teams, and they play as teams. For all the great games this postseason, clutch performances and exciting finishes, there has really yet to be a good series, amazing as that is. I hope that changes beginning next Tuesday, and for baseball’s sake (if not Fox’s) I hope Americans turn on their sets and get excited about the national pastime. Hell, we even got amped up about soccer for a few weeks this past summer; I think we can do it for the game we actually play well.
My prediction: I will get very little work done and very little sleep every day next week.
Fairytales begin “once upon a time,” mysteries begin with dark and stormy nights.
And a ninth-inning rally begins with a lead-off walk.
I’ve been waiting patiently the past two nights for baseball to return. Royals and Orioles players have been waiting four. This is simply unbaseball-like. Thanks, TV studio execs. Proof once again that baseball is not played on ballfields; it’s played on TV.
But enough complaining. The day is here. And Thank God It’s Baseball.