Why all the hate between late-night talk show hosts and the president and his policies and tactics?
It used to be, not that long ago, that comics joked and made wisecracks, we laughed, thought how clever, and moved on.
What happened to that?
These are just highly paid entertainers that started amusing us starting in Elementary school, mimicking the teacher when she left the room. Now, they make tens of millions of dollars, have large audiences that follow them, laugh at their jokes, think how clever, and move the fuck on.
I suggest the Chief Executive do likewise.
C’mon, they are jokes.
And let’s not forget the ultimate in Virginia Smoked…actors and actresses who can’t seem to see enough of themselves, so they inject themselves into the political narrative.
So far, the biggest fish in the entertainment ocean is Ms. Taylor Swift and her machine has kept her above the fray while building her multi-billion-dollar empire.
Smart.
Political, even.
Watching the ever-changing American sports scene actually takes me back a few (ahem) several years to the early sixties when my favorite baseball player was a Giant.
Not Willie Mays.
Not Willie McCovey.
Not Juan Marichal.
Not a San Francisco Giant.
A Yomiuri Giant.
His name was Sadaharu Oh and could this guy ever hit the baseball.
Rather than a building chant, the crowd seemed to murmur quietly in anticipation, exploding after another Oh bomb left the ballpark.
So far (in the entire history of baseball) the person credited with the most home runs (asterisk or not) is Barry Bonds who amassed a grand total of 762 taters.
Oh has 868 total.
When we were living in Japan, we got exactly ONE television show that was in English.
It was a legal drama starring E.G. Marshall and Robert Reed and it was on every Sunday night at 10 p.m.
Our parents allowed us to extend our Sunday bedtime so we could watch the show. I also watched televised sports in the form of sumo wrestling tournaments and of course, Japanese baseball.
I remember the first time I saw Oh in a game, the crowd seemed to hold its collective breath every time he stepped up to the plate. The only comparable thing was how the Oakland A’s, New York Yankees, and California Angels’ crowds would react as the chorus grew louder and louder as The Man stepped up to the plate.
Reggie!Reggie!Reggie!
Reggie Jackson would go on to hit 563 home runs.
And now, once again, the best baseball player in the world was not born in the land of its invention, but in the Land of the Rising Sun.
After seeing the Yankees and Red Sox go at it, my hunch is that we won’t get a Shohei Ohtani-Aaron Judge matchup in the ALCS, but it would be cool.
My Manchester United Red Devils obviously are not good enough to climb out of their current form of bad play, and it does not bode well for the future.
The future of the once-most powerful club in all the world.
The future of manager Ruben Amorim, who found success in the Portuguese football arena comes nowhere near achieving success in arguably the greatest soccer league in the world.
It’s called the Premier League for a reason.
The futures of accomplished international players past their prime, drawing undeserved exorbitant salaries when their aging bodies continue to conspire and limit their ability to merely suit up and get on the pitch.
The mismanagement that got them here was not done in a single season and absent of change, will continue to spiral downward.
But they are my Reds, do or die!
Stay well.
