6/19/01
Softball: Another Forgotten Hero
Dear People,
Congratz to all on last week’s mirth-laden 16-13 exploration of mid-day familial aerobicism. The presence of a young Midwestern boy, his father and his uncle all on the same (losing) team added a certain Norman Rockwellesque Je-ne-sais-quoi to the soothing aroma of the pre-barbecue coal, and indeed, as the warm noon sun beat down on the stately pines and roaming elk of the glorious Codornices tundra, I found myself struck by the realization that the true bosom of America is not in rural Kentucky or some wheat farm outside Topeka, but is in fact where we stood and played, in sassy and fashionable Berkeley, California, with her world-renowned University, flourishing cafes, inimitable book stores, and the unwavering normalositude of the local everyday folk.
In any case, and as most of you probably know, this weekend marks the 82nd anniversary of the day that the legendary Yankee outfielder Ping Bodie challenged a Bronx Zoo ostrich to a post-game spaghetti eating contest right smack in the middle of the Polo Grounds’ deep center field. The Pingster, who was savoring his team’s 9-2 thrashing of the pitiful St. Louis Browns, had apparently bragged to the local media that he could take on any non-lethal animal that the zoo could supply, and on that sultry summer day, 30,000 Yankee fans stayed after the game to see if it were really true.
Man and fowl were each given a heaping five pound bucket full of Gotham’s finest pasta, and according to the Times, both morons proceeded to ingest this feast with spine-tingling celerity. Yet about five minutes into the race, the noble beast was apparently overcome by both the shrieking spectators and the buttery richness of the meal, and thus he awkwardly lifted up his long and lithesome neck, starred eerily up at the bleachers for about five seconds, and then promptly keeled over and died. Bodie was immediately declared the winner, but I think that’s totally beside the point.
Perhaps it was the intensity of emotion surrounding President Wilson’s stunning arrival at Versailles which overshadowed the savagery of this event, and indeed, I’ll be the first to admit that when the fundaments of collective security are being hotly debated, one can hardly expect "the people" to focus on the tragic fate of such a gangly-looking ornithological monstrosity. I am not unreasonable, and I completely accept that. Nevertheless, as best as I can tell, Bodie wound up his career as the recipient of three more years of intensive fan adulation, whereas the body of that perfectly innocent bird was scooped off the field, thrown into a garbage truck, and buried later that night among the city’s endless mountains of rancid human filth. Yuck.
Obviously, we can not judge the actions of those in the past by the moral values we hold today, and regardless, it’s not like ostriches are so adored even now. Yet I do think we owe this particular flightless martyr a small gesture of recognition for the incredible sacrifice he made for baseball 82 years ago this week, and therefore, there will be a game at Codornices this SATURDAY at 11AM, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning….Raymond
PS: Jen lost her beloved sneakers at last week’s game. If you happen to have them, please, in the name of humanity, contact me immediately.
6/22/01
Softball: Excursions
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices tomorrow at 11AM, and as of now, there are still a few slots left.
This week’s field fee is just $1, and that includes my own complimentary post-game walking tour through the convenience stores of Southern El Cerrito….Raymond
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