Let’s sneak in a conversation about baseball before the yearly sickness descends upon me, changing me from a guy who does not care at all about college basketball into a fanatic whose entire existence depends upon it. This malady, which is not altogether unpleasant despite the overwhelming outward appearance of suffering in all its many subcategories, such as disappointment, frustration, anger, dyspepsia, insomnia, helplessness, self-loathing, and shame. Ah, March Madness! But more on this later in the week, when I throw myself onto the tines of that 24-hour-a-day bracket-shaped mania. For now, let’s talk some baseball. The sun is shining in my window as I write this, spring edging closer. You might think I’d want to celebrate that development with something other than a mustachioed crater-faced sourpuss in a Yankees uniform, but, firstly, I have to admit some grudging respect for the unsung achievements of this key figure in the Yankees dynasty that soured my childhood, and, secondly, he’s a good illustration for the Nagging Question that’s been on my mind. Read the rest of this entry ?
Cardboard Gods 
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