Saturday, June 30, 2007
 life, like most things, imitates baseball at wrigley field. in baseball, just like in life, there are ground rules. special rules that go outside the rule book that al gore scribbled down when he invented baseball.
at wrigley field you have the beautiful lush ivy. so the ground rule at wrigley is if a ball gets caught in the ivy and stuck in there and the outfielder cant find it then its a ground rule double.
but if the outfielder goes in there and tries to dig for the ball and the runner rounds second and the outfielder keeps going for it then he can no longer say that he cant find it, and even if he cant find it the ball is live and the runner can scoot around for a home run if he wants.
and the hidden ground rule about wrigley field is that behind that totally sexy ivy is a totally hard wall made entirely out of bricks back when bricks were made out of something.
so a wise outfielder knows a) if a ball goes into the ivy throw up your arms as fast as you can and surrender to the double before you go sticking your dick into the bush and fuck shit up worse.
and b) if a ball goes flying toward the wall you decide if its really worth your career and maybe your life if youre going to slam into that sonofabitch.
seems to me that george bush and all of his followers (there must be a good bakers dozen of you fools left) have handled iraq the same way a rookie outfielder handles the ivy at wrigley
they went into it entirely macho, as if it was just like any other park in the world
even though we all know that nothing is exactly the same as the last thing. everything has its nuances, ground rules, and most importantly - hidden ground rules.
some chicks will scream like a pig and rat you out to all of your friends if you so much as stick a pinky up their ass when the going gets hot, and some chicks will pout all night if you dont grab them by the hair and ram a piano leg up their shit chute.
every man knows this.
which makes me think that bushco takes some sort of sick pleasure out of sending our brave men and women into that meat grinder, the toughest brick wall of all: an unwinable war in the midst of a civil war whose ground rules and hidden ground rules are so tangled and snarled but one thing remains true: death to strangers who come into our little world to stick their dicks into our ivy.
theres a lot to be said of the outfielder who accepts the ground rule double, raises his hands and leaves that shit in that ivy along with countless other balls that could have caused great trouble but were wisely ignored so that the bigger game outside the game could continue.
instead of the faux macho men, lets elect someone with a few brain cells next time. ok cubfans?
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