6/8/98
Softball: The Hinge of Fate
Dear people,
It is late Friday morning and we are still several players short of a quorum. The political credibility of this institution could not survive if I were to ever precede with a game, knowing there was grave risk of a dozen or so people sitting around on a unpleasant inorganic rubber coated field, rusticating aimlessly in bitter disappointment, waiting interminable hours for organizational deliverance. This is not the time to play coy; Indeed, Bill Bergen may have been a really dubiously skilled hitter, but he at least showed up for almost every game of every shitty season he played between 1899 and 1915. And how many games in a row has Cal Ripkin committed to, despite the poor hourly wages and bland food that the Baltimore Orioles continually dish out? 2,200? 2,500? Yes, I know that Kashmir is on the verge of nuclear catastrophe and that the imminent collapse of the Japanese banking sector is threatening your equities portfolio. But I think you would agree that those things mean little if you can't count on a little aerobic solace to help get you through the week. It's not too late. Make that commit; Do it for geopolitical stability...Raymond
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