One thing all baseball fans can agree on: The Bow-Tied Buffoon is bad for the game

What, no bow tie? Well, George will always be Our Buffoon.

by Ken

Call this the lead entry for today in my personal "Stories I'll Be Damned If I'll Ever Read" file.

By way of background, you probably also get those Washington Post e-newsletters with links to various categories of splendiferous content in the day's newspaper. Some days there's one for "Opinions" -- or even, on some truly special days, three of them (apparently identical) lurking in the in-box.

The top listing today is an E. J. Dionne Jr. column, "The Real Pelosi," blurbed as: "She's not a San Francisco liberal imposing her agenda on our pragmatic new president." I bet by the end of the day I'll read that one.

But then comes:

George Will
Baseball's Judicial Branch
Umpiring remains a necessary, demanding and
unappreciated craft.

[The underlining of course corresponds to a link in the original. The thing is, I don't link to George Will. It's a philosophical thing, on account of my philosophy being I hate his stinking guts. It's maybe a religious thing also -- yeah, that's right, a religious thing, especially on the first day of Passover.]

Of course, the bow-tied buffoon's passion for baseball is one of his most obnoxious pomposities, especially for those of us who happen to have a passion for baseball. (As Lord knows we all know, our George is a Cubs fan. This seems to me reason enough to hate the Cubs, with apologies to Cubs fan Scott Simon of NPR and Cubs manager Sweet Lou Piniella. Sorry, guys, but you understand, it's this philosophico-religious thing I have.) Really, now! "Baseball's Judicial Branch"? "Umpiring remains a necessary, demanding and unappreciated craft"? As Cathy would say, "Ack!"

Which suggests one possible practical application. I don't mean to make light of the affliction of bulimia, but might it not be at least a trifle more hygienic if bulimics were encouraged to march off to the toilet bowl clutching "Baseball's Judicial Branch" to read? I mean, as opposed to sticking their fingers down their throat to induce vomiting? Wouldn't this be at least a minor health upgrade?

[If you need a better, more "serious" reason for loathing our George than the fact that his lying carcass is made entirely of toxic waste, or that beneath his mask of genteel, paternalistic Beltway insiderism he may be the most dishonest parasite in the parasitic infotainment journalism biz, then consider the furor that has been brewing since February, even within the Post, about the scum-sucking little doodyhead's crusade of lies and obfuscations about global warming. My guy A Siegel has been on the case, and reports today on "Washington Post's Willfully Civil War" on his Get Energy Smart! NOW!!! blog.]

POSTSCRIPT

Right below "Baseball's Judicial Branch" in the WaPo "Opinions" roundup -- yes, all three times -- is the following:

David Broder
Yannigans of Summer
Recommended reading for lovers of the language of
baseball.

Ohmygosh.

The thing about baseball cliches is that by and large they're true. There is no hoarier baseball adage than: "It's a long season." And getting longer by the day.

[Sorry, I don't link to Dean Broder either, except when I'm making fun of what he's written. For that, however, I first have to read what he's written, which is plainly out of the question here. Okay, I've found reading the dean pretty much out of the question for years now.]

POST-POSTSCRIPT

On the way to posting this, I stopped to read the Dionne column on Nancy Pelosi (here's the link again) and her politically pragmatic approach to the House speakership. It's good.

Not that I'm surprised. I'm just saying.

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