We Ride Tonight, Ghost Horses

On the list of things you don't want to read about an entity that holds a significant ownership stake in two of your favorite sports clubs, I think the following sentence ranks near the top:

"Club Officials Go Silent Over Chatter Major League Baseball Has Loaned Texas Rangers Money"

I'm Going Down to the Central Part of Town

As part of my ongoing quest to fully elucidate my reasons for continuing to support the Cowboys and Rangers despite the fact that I now live in a city that is home to teams in each of those respective sports, more particularly the Texans and the Astros, I submit the following argument from Mr. Will Leitch.

From pg. 236 of God Save the Fan...

It's a full-time position, rooting for a football team [baseball team, jai-alai team, curling team, nursing home shuffleboard team, etc.]...so how am I just supposed to say, "All right, yesterday I cared about these players, but now I care about these"? If something as silly as geography guides your rooting interests, isn't it wishy-washy to move your loyalty around just because someone realized the franchise could make more money in Boise rather than Topeka? Yes, it's a corporation you're rooting for, but they're your corporation. There's nothing rational about it; being a sports fan never has anything to do with being rational.


[Leitch is from central Illinois and grew up as a fan of the St. Louis football Cardinals who now play in Arizona] But what about the St. Louis Rams, you ask? Yeah, what about them? The Rams came to St. Louis in 1995. I simply did not understand why St. Louis fans transferred their loyalty. Sure, owner Bill Bidwill had left St. Louis for what was presumed to be the greener pastures of Tempe. But how does that change my life? Sure, a sports team can offer civic value to a city, but not just out of nowhere. The reason the St. Louis Cardinals are a fixture in the city is because families like mine have patterned their entire [this seems a BIT strong] social structures around them for decades. How can a team just show up and suddenly have devoted fans?

And as for "abandoning" a city...please. On the whole, NFL teams and their fans live in the same city about, oh, twenty-seven days a year. A team and its fans have as much in common as your hand and that vending machine. It's all sentiment. And I don't get to be angry about Bidwill and company leave St. Louis; hell, I don't live there anymore either.

So the only way to be honest with oneself is to pick a team and stick with them. Sure, I wish I had picked a better team, but true fans stay around, no matter what; people from Houston should root for the Titans, people from Charlotte should root for the Hornets, and people from Minnesota should root for the Dallas Stars. Otherwise, you're the one who's disloyal. You're just following whomever it is convenient to follow.

I know that I still fully support the Tyler Wildcatters (yes, Dorothy, they have a Wikipedia page), wherever they might be in the vast universe that is minor league baseball.

[The words in the brackets above are solely those of yours truly]

Displayers of Affection and All Good Intentions

Congratulations to Mr. Joseph R. Halbert for correctly naming "Just Another Girl" by Pete Yorn as the Tuesday Song of the Day.

Despite setting the record on Wednesday for the games caught in the major leagues, I'm pretty sure Ivan "Pudge" Rodriguez's defining career achievement will be the fact that he is the only baseball player my entire family can actually identify.
Well, besides Nolan Ryan, but I'm pretty sure Texans now come out of the womb assuring people that they were there to witness The Ryan Express beat the living daylights out of Robin Ventura, even if they were born in 2007.

All in All is All We Are

Congratulations to Mr. John Middleton for correctly naming "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" by The Beatles as the Monday Song of the Day. Here's a version by George Harrison from the Concert for Bangladesh in 1971.

What I'm about to write might come back to haunt me in, oh say late August, but right now if you take a peek at the current standings in the American League West and let your eyes read those standings from top to bottom, the first team they will fall upon is one based out of Arlington, Texas.
That's right, ladies and gentlemen, the only baseball franchise to have never won a postseason series is currently up 4 games on the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim and Greater Orange County. I'm not sure how long this current state of affairs will last, but I'm going to enjoy it while it does.

Current Reading

The Yiddish Policeman's Union by Michael Chabon

Was Some Shakin' and Some Record Playin'

Through the first 9 games of the 2009 season, the scorelines for each game played by the Rangers look like this:

1. 9-1 win over Cleveland
2. 8-5 win over Cleveland
3. 12-8 win over Cleveland
4. 15-2 loss to Mogadishu on the St. Clair, ahem, Detroit
5. 4-3 loss to Detroit
   
6. 6-4 loss to Detroit
7. 10-9 loss to Baltimore
8. 7-5 loss to Baltimore
9. 19-6 win over Baltimore

Whether it's a 3-game sweep over the Indigenous Persons Residing Near the Convergence of the Cuyahoga River and Lake Erie to start the season, the subsequent 5-game losing streak to the Motor City Kitties and the O's, or last night's blowout win accented by Ian Kinsler hitting for the cycle, I'll say this about the 2009 season in Arlington: It doesn't look like it's going to be boring.

Tried Yesterday to Get Away and Hitchhiked to the Beach

It's Opening Day for America's Pastime, the Rangers are wearing red uniforms to start the year, and the first 10,000 kids through the turnstiles today in Arlington get complimentary Josh Hamilton forearm tattoos.

What a day, my friends!!!

His Answer Came in Actions, He Never Spoke a Word

After a spirited discussion in the comments section of yesterday's post regarding Tim's suggestion that I switch my baseball allegiances from the Rangers to the 'Stros, I'm going to link to the end-all, be-all source for the topic to allow everyone to know where I stand on the topic.

Islam has the Koran, Judaism has the Tanakh and the Talmud, and in the world of sports fandom, the disciples of Bill Simmons have "The Twenty Rules for Being a True Fan". This column may have been written over 7 years (Editor's Note: After noticing that at the top of the page, I now feel older than James Earl Jones in The Sandlot), but it still rings true for all who believe.

This column has been brewing for about six weeks, ever since a startling phone conversation with one of my Page 2 bosses (KJ, a Seattle native and die-hard Seahawks fan). We were chatting about the Patriots and Steelers potentially colliding in the playoffs, when KJ suddenly said, "At least if my Steelers lose, I'll be happy for you, because the Pats made it." Huh? My Steelers???

And this was how I found out that KJ -- my esteemed editor and friend, a good man, a father and a husband, the man who makes Page 2 run so smoothly -- was a Sports Bigamist. As it turns out, the Steelers are KJ's Second-Favorite Team, whatever that means. Apparently, as long as Pittsburgh isn't playing Seattle, he roots for the Steelers, but he doesn't root for the Steelers quite as hard as he roots for the Seahawks, and if both teams are doing well, he chooses the Seahawks, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about the Steelers, and I think I just lost control of my bowels.

Please read the column, take time to think about it, and then you will understand why I (must) support the only American League franchise to have never reached the ALCS.

Current Reading

Tree of Smoke: A Novel by Denis Johnson

Cause All Good Things, They Gotta Go

I would say that you have to start your lying early on April Fools' Day just to get in your jokes before people look at their calendars and realize what day it is, but let's be honest here: It's always easier to lie to people who just woke up. This is why I tell myself each morning that this is the Rangers' year and somehow keep believing it.

Another thing about April Fools' Day...once, when times were simpler, when men were men, and women were, well, women, you could make up crazy stories, try to sell them to your friends, and then have your friends say, "No way, that's so far out there, not even I can believe that." April Fools' Day was the realm of true practitioners of the craft of creating believable lies.

Now, everything is so bizarre that even if you're friend tells you,"Hey, guess what? You know that guy who played Commodus in Gladiator and Johnny Cash in Walk the Line? Well, he went on Letterman a few nights ago, and he didn't sing "Folsom Prison Blues" or try to kill Russell Crowe's family. No, he just sat there with a crazy beard, shaggy hair, and wayfarer sunglasses and acted as though he didn't want to be there the entire time."

Instead of dismissing you out of hand, now your friend says, "Yeah, sounds like Joaquin Phoenix".

What does this new paradigm shift in the world of April Fools' Day jokes mean? It means that the entire era is tainted, just as the entire statistical hierarchy of baseball has been tainted by steroids, PEDs, or whatever else Congress is outraged about these days.

For instance, your friends might say, "Man, I've had a great April Fools' Day joke for the last 7 years running. I'm approaching the streak that John Candy (God rest his soul) had going in the late 80's." Do not, I repeat, do not let your friend get away with this kind of boasting.

Instead, point out that outlandish stories are imminently more believable in a world where infommercial stars get arrested for slapping prostitutes (you're our only hope in these dark times, Billy Mays!!!), and that your friend's record should have an asterisk due to the fact that Candy achieved his streak without the aid of the world going mad while your friend gets to lie to people who live in the same historical epoch as Alex Rodriguez, Britney Spears, Octomom, Hugo Chavez, and Mike Tyson.

Ah, whatever happened to the good old days?

Come All Without, Come All Within

The Rangers announced today that some guy who used to be involved with the team and splits his time between Crawford and Dallas will throw out the first pitch at next Monday's home opener against the Indigenous Persons Residing Near the Convergence of the Cuyahoga River and Lake Erie.

Whether you love or hate the most recent ex-president is not the issue up for debate here today, ladies and gentlemen.

The true question is this:
Why does the President (or ex-President) traditionally throw out a ceremonial first pitch at the beginning of a baseball season but does not perform a similar task at the beginning of the season for other sports?

You've Got a Problem, I Think You Know

Congratulations to Mr. Dan Carlson for correctly naming "My City of Ruins" by Bruce Springsteen as the Tuesday Song of the Day.

As much as I enjoy anything that negatively impacts that baseball franchise located in the Bronx, the A-Rod steroid revelations are somewhat bittersweet due to the fact that his Primobolan -enhanced exploits took place while he was employed by the only baseball franchise that breaks, ahem, warms my heart, the Texas Rangers.

At this point, I'm really just looking for a list from Major League Baseball that tells me who didn't take steroids between the strike-shortened season of 1994 and the present day. If I somehow learn that in 1993, a newly-retired Nolan Ryan contemplated a return to the big leagues courtesy of a Primobolan boost, in the same year that I've been exposed to the worst of the 90's Cowboys-dynasty, well, I think I'm going to be begin to question whether the universe is really a benevolent and loving place after all.

Current Reading

Grand New Party: How Republicans Can Win the Working Class and Save the American Dream by Ross Douthat and Reihan Salam

Just Like Honey From the Bee

Congratulations to Mrs. Katrina Kincaid for correctly naming "Sugar Magnolia" by The Grateful Dead as the Wednesday Song of the Day.

If the franchise with the most losses in Major League history can bring home a World Series title, surely the Rangers can as well.

Right?

Anyone?

Anyone?

Oh well, at least Phillies fans found a good way to celebrate last night, although I'm not sure if the "Hit Your Fellow Citizen (Who Just Happens to Be Hanging From a Traffic Signal) In the Head With a Bottle" celebration should be replicated all across this great nation.

You stay classy, Philadelphia.

Update 5:12 p.m.

More madness from Attica Philadelphia. I'm pretty sure this is Mr. Feeny's car from Boy Meets World.

Sometimes I Get Overcharged, That's When You See Sparks

Congratulations to Mr. Peter Pope for correctly naming "Amen Omen" by Ben Harper as the Tuesday Song of the Day.

Depressing Fact of the Day for Fans of the Texas Rangers: We now support the only, I repeat ONLY, franchise in Major League Baseball to have never reached a League Championship Series.

With that said, I'll now go drink a gallon of lantern oil.

I Wanna Bust All Your Balloons, I Wanna Burn All of Your Cities to the Ground

Congratulations to Mr. John Middleton for correctly naming "Don't Look Back in Anger" by Oasis as the Wednesday Song of the Day.

Speaking of Oasis, let's talk about the big, I mean BIG, news in the English Premier League this week. Manchester City (or City to their fans) were purchased this week by the Abu Dhabi United Group, which is a subsidiary of the United Arab Emirates' sovereign wealth fund, the Abu Dhabi Investment Authority.

The ADIA has possibly, oh, let's just say somewhere north of $875 billion worth of assets to possibly devote towards Manchester's current second citizens (behind the English Evil Empire).

What does all this mean?

Well, as they say, if money, and not love, really makes the world go 'round, City may be a force to reckon with in English and European football in the years to come. Almost immediately after the takeover by ADUG, the City front office swept in to sign Brazilian forward Robinho from Real Madrid despite numerous reports liking the talented 24-year old with Chelsea F.C. This is the functional equivalent of the guy who just won the lottery swooping in to purchase the last remaining Bentley from the dealership before Donald Trump knows what hit him.

On the bright side, at least Liverpool/Rangers owner Tom Hicks is receiving tons of money from the Boys in Arlington...oh wait, less than 13,000 people showed up at the Ballpark yesterday.

The apocalypse is 'nigh, my friends.

Don't You Know You Might Find a Better Place to Play

Congratulations to Mr. Peter Pope of Magnificent Vista for correctly naming "Two Step" by The Dave Matthews Band as the Tuesday Song of the Day.

The announced crowd at the Ballpark in Arlington today as the Rangers defeated the Seattle Super Mario Brothers, ahem, Mariners?

12, 882.

That brings to mind an old existential brain-teaser: If a Ranger wins in the Ballpark, and no one is around to see it, is there a sound?

Why Don't You Invite Me In?

Congratulations to Mr. Andrew Tuegel for correctly naming "Running to Stand Still" by U2 as the Tuesday Song of the Day.

Rangers center-fielder, and the true 2008 Homerun Derby Champion, Josh Hamilton may or may not win the American League M.V.P. this year, but given the enormity of the honor he recently received, I doubt he's too concerned.
Am I referring to the fact that Cincinnati Reds' supporters lamented the fact that they were losing "Roy Hobbs" when they traded Hamilton to the Rangers last year in exchange for pitcher Edison Volquez? Trust me, it's a true honor to be referenced in the same breath as the man who swung the "Savoy Special", but despite those lofty words, Hamilton will be remembered for one thing:

The Hambino Sandwich

Next time you're out at the ballpark, you'll have a chance to purchase a new item for sale: the Hambino Sandwich, named after Rangers All-Star outfielder Josh Hamilton, of course.

The sandwich: Grilled, crispy French bread, filled with thinly sliced baked ham, topped with sauteed onions, provolone and spicy pepper-jack cheeses, finished with a creamy Dijon mustard sauce. They just brought samples around the press box. It's really good.

All for the price of $8.75. For the rest of the season, you can purchase the sandwich in Section 27.--Brandon George of the Rangers Blog at the Dallas Morning News.

If there's anyone who can evaluate the merits of food, it's sportswriters.

You Just Want to Be On the Side That's Winning

Roy Hobbs walks among us...

and his name is Josh Hamilton.

Come On, What Does This Remind You Of?

Congratulations to Mr. Jeremy Masten for correctly naming "Knights of Cydonia" by Muse as the Sunday Song of the Day.

Since it appears that no one who reads this blog can tell me about "Agricultural Leadership/Leading Agriculture", I have been forced to move our discussion to other topics.

First, a hearty Running Down a Dream congratulations to Mr. Trey Watten on being drafted by the Milwaukee Brewers in the 7th Round of the First-Year Players Draft. In addition to his status as a dominating pitcher for my alma mater, Trey is also a proud member of Gamma Sigma Phi, and I think I speak for all past and current Gamma Sigs and Wildcats in wishing Trey the best of luck trying to make it to "The Show".

Second, the New York Times has a fantastic story today on the highs and lows of cuisine at all 30 major league stadiums. At the Ballpark, they give high marks to the prime rib buffet in the Diamond Club, which I'm sure that everyone frequents during their trips to see the Rangers battle, and low marks to "the pretzel dog". In the provided photo, the pretzel dog looks like a giant kolache, which, as anyone who has been through West, Texas, can tell you, is a great feat of culinary invention. In my opinion, they left out the best part of the Ballpark's menu, the garlic fries at numerous locations throughout the park, which are as enjoyable to eat as they are horrendous to smell.

At Minute Maid Park, the reviewers loved the fajitas from Rosa's Taqueria and loathed the superstar dog with cheese from Union Station. In a story that will shock absolutely no one, I had the superstar dog with cheese during my visit to the Juice Box a few weeks ago, and let me tell you, it may have tasted like a used Goodyear, but there is something fundamentally askew with someone that does not enjoy a frankfurter during a viewing of America's Pasttime.

We Got Everything You Want, Honey, We Know the Names

Many thanks for the Tex-Mex suggestions and Houston-centric debate in the comments section for the last post.

Tony Parker deals with a minor distraction during Game 5 of the Spurs' second-round series with the New Orleans Hornets.

Similar distractions in other contexts?

• Hillary Clinton and a cardboard cut-out of mathematical impossibility.
• Charles Barkley and sensible gambling practices.
• The Texas Rangers and a winning season.
• Paris Hilton and self-restraint.
• Roger Clemens and...well, everything it seems.

Your Destiny May Keep You Warm

Congratulations to Mr. Ben Grant for correctly naming "Kissing the Lipless" by The Shins as the Friday Song of the Day.

The past few days have been quite busy going from Tyler to Abilene on Friday (to see my sister graduate. Congrats once again, Katie), Abilene to Belton on Saturday, and Belton to Houston yesterday. As you can see from the map located below, I'm going to be in enemy territory for the next 6 weeks, but as I told some friends last night at dinner, in the vein of the immortal "Summer of George" on Seinfeld, I'm declaring this the "Summer of Open-Mindedness".
Does that mean I'm committed to even entertaining the idea that I might become a 'Stros fan? Absolutely not. Would you respect me if decided to think about becoming an Osama Bin Laden fan either? I don't think so.

Overboard?

Possibly.

Am I taking it back under any circumstances?

Absolutely not.

Finally, I'm pleased to announce that fellow ACU alum and BLS co-conspirator Andrew Tuegel has returned to the blogosphere with No Genuine Issue of Material Fact. All of you will fondly remember that Mr. Tuegel formerly regaled the interwebs with his writings at Andrew in D.C., but after entering law school, Andrew has decided to enter the realm of summary judgment humor and English Premier League analysis.

If you can't laugh at that, well, I just don't know what to tell you.

Secretly, I Want You Buried in the Yard

I'm not sure who this Jason Hunter fellow is, and from the level of detail it could be a Lost staffer writing under a pseudonym, but he's basically written the Lost Theory-manifesto to end all Lost Theory manifestos.

Lost: A Theory on Time Travel

Based on the fact that 1996 is one of the key years in Hunter's "Time Loop Theory" related to the island, perhaps he can go back and remind a 12-year old Justin Scott to enjoy the only playoff victory in Texas Rangers team history a bit more.

Oh, he should also remind me that Independence Day was the last good movie Jeff Goldblum ever appeared in. Just to think, my friends, after Jurassic Park there was so much promise. So much promise.