Sometimes, life just hands you amusing moments.
I was watching a ballgame at the bar, and a couple of twentysomthings sat next to me. One guy looked like the quintessential Portland hipster, while the other guy was clean shaven with close-cropped hair. From their conversation, I gleaned that both were musicians, although it appeared that Hipster was in a band and was fairly serious about his music. Clean-Shaven seemed like more of a hobbyist. (Two musicians walk into a bar. . . )
Most of the conversation was Hipster complaining about the producer/manager of his band. It was the typical bitch session engaged in by young people who are somewhat good at something and full of themselves. Man, I know what I’m doing. My boss is an asshole who couldn’t play his way out of a paper bag. My bass teacher is a freekin’ legend. I have this, like, understanding, man, of what my role should be. My boss just talks and talks, and doesn’t get to the point. In fairness, Hipster was articulate, and I don’t think he actually used the word ‘like’, but he just went on an on. And on.
The funny part was that when Clean-Shaven did manage to get a word in, he said things like “Yeah, some people just like to hear the sound of their own voice.” and “Some people do talk a lot.” So I had to wonder: did Clean-Shaven say these things as a hint to Hipster, or was he unaware that his comments exactly described the guy he was talking to? In the context of the conversation, it was hard to tell (and I was trying to watch the game). It’s entirely possible that he meant the former, but I don’t know the man, so I don’t know if he was that aware. But the conversation was an amusing example of real-life irony.
Making The Play
During Game 2 of the World Series, a Boston Red Sox ball girl made a really nice catch. The catch was notable because she made a play on the ball that the 3rd baseman couldn’t. I was hoping the announcers would recognize her, but they didn’t. Just a minor footnote to the game. Sure, the ball was foul, but she did a really nice job. I hope she kept the ball.
Major League Baseball’s premier event is underway. I haven’t lived in Boston or St. Louis, or even in Massachusetts or Missouri, so I have no dog in the fight. Baseball is my favorite game, though, so I’ll side with St. Louis. They’re the National League representative, and the National League doesn’t use the designated hitter, so in years I don’t identify with a team, the NL team gets my support.
I’ve heard arguments against calling the American baseball championship ‘The World Series’, as many countries play baseball, some quite well. The Caribbean countries and Japan come to mind. For a time I bought into that argument. Then I realized that any baseball player who wanted to play at the highest level came here. Major league and farm rosters are replete with players from all over the world. Much as Europe is the pinnacle of soccer, so is America for baseball.