Explaining the game to the cat
By Karlsie
There's an old philosophy among the early generations of computer programs: before starting any new project - try explaining it to your cat. With that in mind, and a bottle (or few) of Mike's hard lime in hand, last night; I sat down and tried to explain baseball to the cat.
Yes, I am one of those idiot cat owners who converse with her cat. Further, after enough Mike's, I start to understand what she's saying as well. You have to understand, I have the most beautiful cat in the world and she usually watches the games with me - that's how she is. But she never really paid attention - so I figured I'd help explain some of the finer points of the game to her as I watched and maybe she'd take more interest. And, for a while, it worked.
Of course, her questions tended to be along the lines of: What the hell is that thing on Doug Mirabelli's chin? Did a caterpillar die there on its way to eat the New Hampshire foliage? What's with Toronto's uniforms - they're almost as pitiful as that sleeveless look some teams are going for these days. Why do baseball players spit so much?
She did ask me one huge question that still has me pondering: if you're making a million five a year in the lower 48 and get traded to Canada, do they adjust your salary to account for the exchange rate? What about if you get traded to the lower 48 - do they adjust accordingly as well?
In the meantime, I answered the questions I could - such as why batters step out of the box so frequently. Sometimes it's to look for the signal and other times it's to throw off the pitcher's timing. At one point, I asked her my favorite trivia question: who is the only man to have played for the Red Sox, Celtics and Bruins? John Kiley, the organist. She then gave me that look that only a cat can give and told me to the leave the trivia to the announcers and notice how Matt Clement must be a cat owner as he practiced cat breathing on the mound during some of the close ups. Of course, that was before he totally lost it and they brought in Meyers to give up a grand slam with two out in the 6th.
We discussed the possibility of a Sheffield trade. Her attitude was: Florida's too good for him - he deserves to be in Kansas City or maybe he'd be better suited to Texas where lashing out at the fans isn't unusual. We both decided these damn Zen ads are a cruel thing to do to people - who gets the damn Ricoh ads anyway? The Infinity ads - well you expect a certain Zen-like quality, after all, this is a car line that was launched with a series of ads of haiku being read over artful, serene shots of water dripping into a pond and such. Even then, now we know what the hell it is, enough with the Zen.
I wondered where Francona's 4-color pen went to. (Terry, if you need a new one, I have a couple of blue barrel 4-colors at home - just drop me a line and I'll run it over to Fenway for you later today.) She agreed with me that whoever came up with the idea of the 30 second theme song as someone comes up to bat should be beaten senseless before we jump up and down on them. It wouldn't surprise either of us if this is really MLB's next cash venture: download your favorite player's theme song; click here for a 30 second preview and show your team loyalty with an MLB sanctioned credit card with your team's logo.
She was overjoyed that the Big Unit is demonstrating that we got the better half of the old Diamondbacks Dynamic Duo of Schilling and Johnson and suggested maybe, just maybe, the Sox bullpen shouldn't act as though the game is over once they took a big hit. She stared me down with the thought, "Imagine a little league team being shellacked in a similar fashion. Don't they find something to get mad at or something to drive them so that they at least make it look like they care?"
Finally, by the 7th inning, she had enough and turned her back on the game. I hate to admit it, but when the score hit 15-1, so did I. The Mike's was gone, it was late and I had spent the day on the road driving to Bristol to pick up the youngest at Little League camp. I don't normally turn in early, but I was starting to doze off in the chair waiting for yet another Sox pitcher to take the mound and warm up.
I took off the green rubber wrist band I purchased earlier in the day that had the words of the Little League credo on there: character, courage, loyalty. Sometimes I think that you should hang the credo as well as the motto: I will play fair and strive to win, but win or lose, I will always do my best; in the Sox bull pen.
The cat knows, they should have remembered it last night. She hasn't given up yet though. Tonight we're watching the game - this time with some Mike's lemonade to see if a different taste help the Sox play a different tune.
