Well, Barry Bonds hit #756 tonight, as we all knew he would. And frankly, I can’t tell you how incredibly disappointed I am with the whole situation. You see, as a youngster I’m thankful I had the opportunity to have positive role models. Legends you could watch and look up too with admiration, hoping someday to mimic if even a bit of their greatness in your own life. True greats you would watch over and over again in slow motion replays of their glory days with glossy eyed admiration for their personal determination and fortitude. Yet today, I’m afraid my own son will not have the same opportunity I had to view such untainted greatness.
I’m speaking of course, of the dude in the vest and that other guy.
The two men who jumped on the field and chased Hank Aaron around the base path after hitting #715.
Tonight as Bonds hit #756, I sat with bated breath on the edge of my seat, clutching my son, waiting, watching, hoping…. for nothing.
We saw before us no vested supermen with their white-fro donning dudes patting Bonds on the back hysterically as he headed for third... No idiotic but courageous young men of valour successfully able to trade serious jail time and hefty fines for a piece of highlight glory... No, nary even a single foolish gent was able to make it past security and exchange a momentary blunt baton whack to the skull for the mere sake of pure, unbridled celebration...
As you can imagine, the whole scene became too overwhelming for me; I quickly rushed off to the bathroom to regain my composure, (also, I had to go.)
I’m speaking of course, of the dude in the vest and that other guy.
The two men who jumped on the field and chased Hank Aaron around the base path after hitting #715.
Tonight as Bonds hit #756, I sat with bated breath on the edge of my seat, clutching my son, waiting, watching, hoping…. for nothing.
We saw before us no vested supermen with their white-fro donning dudes patting Bonds on the back hysterically as he headed for third... No idiotic but courageous young men of valour successfully able to trade serious jail time and hefty fines for a piece of highlight glory... No, nary even a single foolish gent was able to make it past security and exchange a momentary blunt baton whack to the skull for the mere sake of pure, unbridled celebration...
As you can imagine, the whole scene became too overwhelming for me; I quickly rushed off to the bathroom to regain my composure, (also, I had to go.)
-Which is where I started thinking... Perhaps, these days, nobody has the “balls” anymore to simply take the risk and succeed. Perhaps, figuratively speaking, in our over-hyped, media obsessed culture, the players aren't the only ones experiencing the negative side effects of "steroids"…
Call me a hopeless nostalgic, but all of my life I wanted to be like that dude in the vest chasing Aaron, (or the other guy.) In some small way I liked to think it was me up there chasing him back in 74’. (Even though I was born in 78’.) And now, in 07’ I’m deeply saddened my son is left with no one to base the course of his dreams upon. (Except maybe mature, responsible adults from his real life, and that "Soy Bomb" guy I’ve tried unsuccessfully to set up a mentor-type situation with.)
Friends, I'm afraid it’s a sad, ball-less time our sons are having to grow up in. (I wonder if they’re playing “Scott Baio is 45 and Single” reruns on VH1...) And tonight was a prime example of that fact. (Oh thank God, for a second there I got caught up in the game and almost forgot Big Brother was on. And to think it’s veto competition night! That was close. Plus, I've been spending so much time with my son I haven't checked my email or myspace site in like two hours! OMG!)
Call me a hopeless nostalgic, but all of my life I wanted to be like that dude in the vest chasing Aaron, (or the other guy.) In some small way I liked to think it was me up there chasing him back in 74’. (Even though I was born in 78’.) And now, in 07’ I’m deeply saddened my son is left with no one to base the course of his dreams upon. (Except maybe mature, responsible adults from his real life, and that "Soy Bomb" guy I’ve tried unsuccessfully to set up a mentor-type situation with.)
Friends, I'm afraid it’s a sad, ball-less time our sons are having to grow up in. (I wonder if they’re playing “Scott Baio is 45 and Single” reruns on VH1...) And tonight was a prime example of that fact. (Oh thank God, for a second there I got caught up in the game and almost forgot Big Brother was on. And to think it’s veto competition night! That was close. Plus, I've been spending so much time with my son I haven't checked my email or myspace site in like two hours! OMG!)
Yea, perhaps it's a sad, ball-less time for all of us.
(And maybe, that's a little bit of why we hate Barry Bonds so much.)
Maybe his exchange of the great prizes of manhood, (integrity, worth), for things that are temporal, (records), in some small way, (not speaking of myself personally if you know what I mean), mirror our own.
1 comments:
good call aaron. honestly, the coolest part of Aaron's record breaker as a kid were the idiots running with him on the field. it somehow made the moment more special.
also, tread lightly on the subject of Big Brother. It is appointment viewing in my household, and has been for the past 8 seasons. shameful, i know.
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