A daily accumulation of history and present as I follow the 2011 year through the baseball season and reflect on the glories and disappointments of the greatest game on Earth.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Zach Greinke

Like Mark McGwire, I don't believe in the magic of steroids to help someone hit home runs (but I do know that they help people recover and gain strength to play continuously),
I don't believe in I-ching - I've always wished that I could be in line with the Tao Te Ching, but alas... these are new years revelations.
I don't believe in Bible-thumping in the form of pointing to Heaven after a home run. It's a sports moment not divine revelation.
I don't believe in tarot and anything else that seems like it would be something associated with Ms. Cleo. That said, I believe in baseball superstitions - as long as they don't slow down the game.
I don't believe in Hitler and I have no respect for Marge Schott and those who do.
I don't believe in trades for Ivan DeJesus since they mean giving up Larry Bowa, and frankly, that's not a smart move.
I don't believe in Adam Kennedy as my day to day second basemen. He's just not what I want from my starting second baseman, and his stats prove it.
I don't believe in Buddha or starting pitchers who look like his twin.
I don't believe in mantra in the form of slogans thrown up on the Jumbotron in order to get fans to will their team to victory. That said, I do believe in rally monkeys and thundersticks, but once again, I have no use for waving towels. They're really cheap looking.
I don't believe in Gita. It's not like I'm Pedro Cerrano letting Jobu know what's what ("I'm pissed off now, Jobu. Look, I go to you. I stick up for you. You don't help me now. I say "Fuck you," Jobu, I do it myself. "), it's just that I've never really been one for trendy eastern religions.
I don't believe in yoga as an answer to baseball longevity. Ask Barry Zito if you don't believe me.
I don't believe in kings, who stay too long as the baseball commissioner and eventually just find their way into the position permanently since it just seems easier that way.
I don't believe in Elvis Andrus, and if you look, his World Series stats back me up on that.
I don't believe in the innocence of Don Zimmer, man, but I think Pedro could have handled that situation a little better.
I don't believe in Beatles in the way that some people do, but I will say that they've got some really great songs. The medley of songs from "Because" to "The End" stands out as does "Strawberry Fields."
I just believe in me,
Just my wife Heather and me...
And if I was John Lennon writing this song now, I would add that I don't believe in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy (the real life one or the one the Rock played), the Easter Bunny (though that took some convincing since I once saw a shadow of "him" on Easter Eve at age 5), the power of Obama to get anything done, or Zach Greinke.
The Brewers shouldn't either. One great, one good, and a few average ones don't make someone the great white hope of baseball - especially when they force the team to get masseuses and Stuart Smalley to help cope with confidence and anxiety problems on the big stage.
Didn't you people learn anything from Philadelphia and Houston's debacles with Brad Lidge?
That said, we should probably focus more on the positive of what to believe in. For that, I give you Crash Davis:
"Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days."

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