Bleacher Views

Out here in the boondock bleachers, calling a player “scrappy” is the equivalent of placing a halo around his head and putting a “Saint” in front of his name.

Well now, how did the recent Olympics go for you? Did you dive into the U.S. Water polo team? Did you shake a stick for the men’s field hockey final? Get bored with the skate boarding?

When I was a kid, going to the ball game with my buddies, we would take the periods between innings or halves to quiz each other on sports trivia. The loser would have to buy the next round of snacks; and, considering that my personal exchequer usually consisted of two dimes in my front left pants pocket, I didn’t dare to lose.

Ancient wisdom doesn’t die; it just shows up at your favorite sports venue.

The latest example was offered by a woman named Sydney McLaughlin at the United States Track and Field Trials.

Unless you have been having a Rip Van Winkle experience for the last 20 years, you might have noticed that betting on sporting events has changed from a social no-no to a major income source for some rather large corporations.

The topic of the baseball summer is, “What’s wrong with the Yankees and who needs to be fired?” 

The owner says the general manager is fine; the general manger says the manager is doing all he can. The result? It must be the player’s fault. But you can’t fire a whole team. So where’s the problem?

Ah yes, the Fourth of July, a date, the Bard might have said, to be conjured with. It is a time of hamburger hangovers, fireworks flash ups and backyard bashes. Not to mention celebrating the birth of a country, a minor detail.

It’s time for a confession. I suffer from a mental health problem called BSOCD, Baseball Standing Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.