12/19/00
Softball: The "Meaning" of Christmas
Dear People,
Congratz to all on last week’s breathtaking 16-15 post-alluvion display of magnificent yeomen aerobicism. When I first saw the mosquito-laden suck-swamps that covered our beloved home plate, pitcher’s perch, and even 3rd base, my initial reaction was to feel the sting of 1,000 self-inflicted judicial wounds, and indeed, to wonder how a benevolent higher being could be so utterly callous. And yet, as if instilled with the spirit of Moses himself, the people rose up and began the most inspiring act of contemporary drainage that I have ever had the privilege to witness. Yes, let the record show that working with nothing more than 10 little red buckets, a discarded shopping cart, two shovels, and an old and rusty grazing hoe, our community did the Lord’s work, and in less than 40 minutes, created an infield that was ultimately as dry and level as the rich butternut frosting that graces every slice of rhubarb-brownie pie.
Perhaps inspired by our renewed sense of destiny, the game that followed was as close and chilling as any in recent memory, and indeed, as the bottom of the 9th began, I nearly re-flooded the baseline with conflicted tears of joy, terror and simple awe at the resiliency of the human spirit. Then, as the opposing team loaded the bases and put their go-ahead run on 2nd , I felt an ethereal inner calm that assured me there would be no "losers" in the tense moments to come, for both contingents would flourish as champions of the grand collective whole. Fortunately, my team ended up winning, and in the sunlight of hindsight, I now obviously realize that such thoughts were nothing more than emotional tripe.
In any case, and as a few of you may know, this weekend marks the eve of the birth of the inimitable Jesus Christ. Now obviously, I’m not about to suggest that any of you should put softball ahead of your obligation to family and faith. That would be unseemly of me to ask, and I’m simply not going to do it. Nevertheless, in wake of the nearly biblical flooding that we as a softball-playing people dealt with last week, I would gently suggest that creed and sport are in fact not mutually exclusive endeavors. In fact, I would like to quote myself, in a modest appeal that I made to all of you about a year ago this week:
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…….I just happened to be reading through the Gospel according to Matthew when it suddenly struck me that the Mattmesiter’s most compelling contribution was probably his stirring depiction of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.
In all candor, I am not an expert in the ancient Hebraic tongues of the Eastern Mediterranean, and yet my own etymological analysis strongly suggests that the Aramaic slang word "mooundt" (meaning literally, "awesome anthill") was somehow translated into ancient Hebrew as their word for "mount," (meaning "nice mountain"), when in reality, the location where Jesus offered his beatitudes was on the "mound" (with a ‘d’). No, I cannot prove this beyond a doubt, and I certainly do not mean to cast aspersions on the fine folks who toiled at the Department of Translation in King James’ Court. Yet I am suggesting that recent archeological breakthroughs now clearly imply that the ancient Israelites played a club-swinging ball game that was shockingly similar to our modern game of baseball, and more to the point, when Jesus rose to address the multitudes on that fateful ancient day, he did so from the pitcher’s mound at the original Jerusalem Stadium and Rugby Club.
I accept that many of you will be skeptical, but all I can do is speak truth to power…….
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Frankly, I still get a bit teary-eyed when I read my own linguistic analysis. Oh sure, I’m just a simple Jewish kid from Van Nuys, and I probably had no right to toy with the conscience of our softball-loving goyim. Yet deep in my heart, I still believe with every fiber of my being that were Jesus alive today, he’d tell you that vigorous athletic exercise in a friendly recreational context is
the gateway through which the pearls of eternal truth are most effectively acquired. And therefore, there will be a game at San Pablo this Sunday at noon, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning….Raymond
12/22/00
Softball: A Sport for all Faiths
Dear People,
There will be a game at San Pablo this Sunday at noon, and as of now, there are still several slots left. In fact, we’re at a bare minimum, so stop being coy and do what you must, lest you later force me to grovel in ways that can only demean you, me and sport itself.
Please bring $2 for the field, some of which I will use to support the shameless and vile lifestyle to which I have become accustomed….Raymond
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