11/23/11

Softball: Gobble (Eye of Newt, Messaging and Shameless Forays in Self-Plagiarization)

Dear People,

I know what you're thinking; You're thinking that the wound is still too raw for another attempted game, and indeed, I'd be the first to admit that over this past weekend, I needlessly dragged you through a grueling emotive roller coaster that left you feeling tawdry, teased and in the end, utterly bereft of the aerobic release that you had so understandably come to count on. Sure, it would be easy to blame “the weather,” but the fact is that I'm this community's founder, organizer and primary lobbyist-not just its generously remunerated historian-for-hire (hehe)-and if I can't deliver what I ethically owe you, then perhaps it really is time for me to retire to my beloved childhood goat farm in the hills of suburban Gorzów Wielkopolski. Believe me, I hear ya.

Indeed, I wasn't even going to try and organize a game this week, but then it suddenly occurred to me that tomorrow marks the 390th anniversary of the first Thanksgiving dinner, that bountiful New World feast in which a hearty group of disheveled English Pilgrims and their Wampanoag Indian hosts laid the foundations for the next four centuries of superb and symbiotic intercultural relations. Of course that got me thinking about what I wrote all of you 11 years ago this very day, and while I'm obviously not going to quote myself verbatim, I would gently suggest that my gloss on the events in question retains a certain timely resonance….

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"Few seem to remember that when Captain Miles Standish and Squanto rose to toast their good fortune on that frosty Plymouth evening in November 1621, both men agreed to a post-dinner match of exhilarating AAA Pilgrim Ball (a curious colonial pastime that most recreational historians now believe was an embryonic version of soccer, although it was actually played with darts). Unfortunately for the Wampanoag, their team lost 10-8, and thus under the pre-game agreement, they and their relatives had to abandon all of New England by 1625. Nevertheless, the honored tradition of combining hearty fowl-based meals with vigorous exercise was firmly established, and I for one see no reason to discontinue it now."

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The point is that I'm well aware that many of you will soon be flying off to exotic locales to have turkey and kung pao dinner with your nutso extended families, and after arriving, some of you will suddenly realize that these kin are actually part of the 1%. In any case, it's not for me to judge if you decide that occupying their lavish all-marble master bathroom for a few unexpected nights is enough to send them a message (conceptually strained though it may be).

Still, I do happen to think that this may not be the most appropriate year in which to diss the grand aerobic legacy of Captain Miles Standish and Squanto, for ultimately, I think we all know that the most cogent way to protest against policies that proliferate moral hazard on Wall Street is by playing some exciting, majestic, and indisputably fair softball. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning…Raymond

11/25/11

Softball: Drowsy

Dear People,

There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, and as of nowthere are still five slots left.

This week's field fee is just $4, and beyond that I have nothing more to add since I am so contentedly stuffed with fine fowl and fixin's …Raymond 845-7552

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