A Fastball For Fauci

As Longtime Readers know, I have little time for professional sports right now, as their controlling organizations have succumbed to Wokeness.  Nevertheless, recent events here in Cuidad Tejas have come to my attention, and I need to highlight just one;  but first, a little background is necessary.

The Texas Rangers baseball team sucks.  It’s not quite as bad as the 1920-2002 Chicago Cubs in its depth of suckitude, but it’s never been that far off either.  Opening Day of each season, therefore, has seldom been a gala affair, sometimes approaching a half-full stadium but more often than not, not even close.

Last Monday’s opening game, therefore, did not bode well, especially as it was against the Toronto Blue Jays, in which team Texas interest ranks somewhere around zero.  And not many Canuckis are going to fly all the way down to Dallas for their team, even if it means an escape from their frigid city.  (It may be spring here, but in Toronto spring still has a couple months to go before putting in a timid appearance.)

So:  an empty stadium at The Ballpark In Arlington*?  Ummm, nope:

That’s more spectators than I’ve ever seen on Opening Day here.  And yes, there were people wearing masks, just like Dr. Fauci ordered — but a hell of a lot of others weren’t:

…because wearing a mask in the open air is senseless, even in a stadium packed almost to capacity.

Clearly, the good people of Texas are fed up with all this mask bullshit, and as I noticed a couple weeks back, it’s starting to show itself all over the place.  And yes, despite having 20 million more residents than Gauleiter  Gretchen Whitmer’s Michigan, Texas has far fewer Chinkvirus cases not just on a per capita  basis, but in absolute numbers.

So fuck off, Fauci.

Oh, and by the way, the Rangers lost, 6-4.  Sic semper ludi.


*I know, it’s now Globe Life Field or some bullshit, who cares.

Inconsequential

Apparently there’s a big hoo-hah about where Major League Baseball is going to play their so-called “All-Star” game this year because Georgia is an eeevil place because they want to prevent voter fraud such as happened in the 2020 elections.  Other states have weighed in (notably Texas), and so on and so on.

In the first place, MLB should call the All-Star game what it really is — the Steroid Festival — but what really gives me the giggles is that they think that their sport, or any sport come to think of it, matters more than a pitcher’s mound of beans in the grand scheme of things.

I note with great pleasure that the PGA has not got involved in this wokism, because unlike baseball, they know which side their bread is buttered on.  (Boycotting Georgia, when the Masters Tournament is played at Augusta?  Don’t make me laugh.)  Still on the subject of buttered bread, MLB seems to have forgotten who comprises their core fan base, and playing little wokester games is probably not high on the list of priorities for that group.

Couldn’t happen to a nicer bunch of shills and fraudsters.

As for the rest of us — that growing number of people like myself who are becoming disaffected with corporate wokism and alienated from all the companies that practice it — where MLB plays their little All-Star game matters less than a flat tire on a pickup.

Interesting Situation

Last weekend, Lewis Hamilton won the Turkish Grand Prix and with it, the F1 Driver’s Championship for the seventh (!!!!) time, tying the venerated-but-comatose Michael Schumacher for the all-time record.  Much has been said about the little twerp, especially by me, for the fact that he’s driving a  car (factory Mercedes-AMG) which is hugely superior to most if not all of the other cars in Formula 1, and to a certain degree this is true. (Mercedes had actually clinched the F1 Team Championship title the race before.)

However:  in Istanbul on Sunday, conditions were terrible.  It had rained all night before, and to add to the drivers’ woes, the track had only been resurfaced a couple weeks prior, which meant that even dry it would have been slippery;  add metric tons of water to the mix, and you get mayhem.  Which is pretty much what happened.  Nobody cared to race on slicks, when meant “wet” or “intermediate” tires were the order of the day, and all during the race, cars were sliding around and off the track like they were being driven by five-year-old boys and not by arguably the best drivers in the world.  Even worse was that because the tires were wet-weather ones, they degraded very quickly when the track did dry out a bit.  Ordinarily under those circumstances, you’re lucky to get ten to fifteen laps before the tread wears to such an extent that you’re in essence racing on slicks, on a soaking-wet track.  This was not the case in Istanbul, because it drizzled on and off during the entire race, which meant that the alternate wet- and dry track gave the intermediate tires a few more laps’ life, to maybe twenty laps.

Hamilton changed off the wet tires on lap 8 — and then drove the last fifty laps on the same tires, winning by a huge margin because all the other drivers had to make two and sometimes three pit stops to change theirs.  It was a drive of unbelievable virtuosity, and as much as I personally detest the little asshole, it was a drive worthy of a champion, the win and therefore the title richly deserved.  And by the way, Valttieri Bottas (the other Mercedes driver), driving the same machinery, finished somewhere like fifteenth.  So much for “equipment superiority”.

I told you all that so I could tell you this.

Hamiton’s seventh driver’s title has resulted in calls for him to be given a knighthood by the Queen — she doesn’t make the decision, by the way, some government flunkey or other does, I can’t be bothered to look it up as like most Americans I think the whole title thing is silly.  Regardless, other sportsmen have been knighted before for their sporting success (F1’s Jackie Stewart and Stirling Moss, cricketer Ian Botham — more on him in another post), so it’s not an unusual thing for a sportsman to be thus recognized.

However, this is Lewis Hamilton we’re talking about, so of course there’s going to be a turd in the punchbowl.  And this is it:  many years ago, Lewis left the U.K. and took up residence in Monaco to escape Her Majesty’s onerous taxation (once again, not the old girl’s fault;  she doesn’t makes the laws, she just signs the papers).

To the ever-censorious British public, who think that leaving Britain for this reason equates to near-criminal behavior, this is causing some problems, conceptually.  On the one hand, he’s brilliant and deserves some social recognition, but on the other, he’s a reprehensible tax-dodger who’s being rewarded by the Crown despite his “disloyalty”.

Needless to say, I think the wealth-envious Brits are total idiots when it comes to this nonsense:  taxes are an evil, evil form of theft:  one should pay only as much as the law mandates, and not one fucking penny more.  Avoiding paying taxes (as opposed to evading, or not paying any) is one’s fiscal responsibility, and tax loopholes (created, of course, by loathsome politicians) should be used to the utmost advantage without actually breaking the law.  Tax accountants and -lawyers exist to know about and bring such loopholes (okay, exceptions) to their clients’ attention and save them money.  That’s the beginning and the end of what I call the commonsense approach to paying taxes — but that’s not what the vast British (and huge swathes of the U.S.) public believes.

Thus, the quandary the Brits find themselves in is an exquisite one, as I stated above.  And I find myself curiously conflicted:  on the one hand I think Hamilton’s achievement is incredible, and worthy of recognition;  but on the other, while the tax haven thing is irrelevant, the thought of this woke little BLM-supporting twerp becoming “Sir Lewis” sticks in my craw like a chicken bone.

Wizard

I saw an article which mentioned a man named Karl-Heinz Rumenigge (pronounced Room-in-nigga ), and I had a good chuckle at the memories the name evoked.

Back in the 1980s, Rumenigge was West Germany’s chief striker in their national football team, and he’s ranked 26th in the Top 50 World Cup Footballers Of All Time.  (The list includes Pele, Maradona, Cruyff, Messi, Yashin and Zhidane, so we’re not talking mediocrity here.)

I used to love watching him play, but not for the usual reasons.

You see, outside the penalty area, Rumenigge was hopeless:  he’d get the ball in the midfield, then trip over his own feet and fall over, or kick the ball into touch unintentionally, or pass the ball to the opposition, or kick one of his own team’s players accidentally — there was no telling how badly he could screw up.  (I exaggerate, of course, but only a little.)  And he had the worst hairstyle in football:

But when he got a sniff of the ball in the opponents’ penalty area:  GOAL.  Almost without fail, there would be a goal, whether by a thunderous shot which made the goalie look foolish, or by dribbling it past three defenders before netting the ball, or back-heeling the ball through a forest of legs, or poaching a loose ball anywhere within ten yards of the goalposts;  whatever it took, Karl-Heinz would get the job done (video).  At his club Bayern Munich, he scored 200 goals in ten years, and playing for Germany, he scored 45 goals in ninety-six matches, including a hat-trick during the 1982 World Cup.

By the way, he’s no dunce:  nowadays, Rumenigge is the Chairman of Executive Board of FC Bayern München.  And he has a better haircut.

Evolution

One-time F1 champion driver Kimi Raikonnen is famously bullshit-free;  while driving for Ferrari a few years back, he got irritated by the constant stream of advice and orders coming over the radio from the pit wall team, and uttered the immortal line:  “Leave me alone;  I know what I’m doing.”   He finished on the podium, driving a car that was truthfully speaking nowhere near the level of his competitors’.

And he’s back in the headlines today, posting this pic:

For those not in the know, that’s one-time F1 champion James Hunt in characteristic pose (missing only a pit bunny on his errr  arm to make it completely accurate), while on the right is Mr. Woke, Lewis Hamilton.

Now the Hamilton fanbois are going to point out that whereas Hunt and Raikonnen only won the F1 championship once each, Our Lewis has won it six times.   (In their defense:  Hunt and Raikonnen won their respective championships driving cars that were charitably called “competitive” at the time, whereas Hamilton is driving a Mercedes which has outstripped all other cars by a wide margin, for the past four or five years at least.)

Whatever.  Raikonnen is in the right, while Hamilton is left — far Left, with his BLM-kneeling and wokey T-shirts.

I wish Hunt were alive today:  he’d piss all over that T-shirt, probably while Hamilton was still wearing it.

Still No Spectators

I spoke about sports being played in empty stadiums because of the Chinkvirus — which I can sorta understand, because by their very nature and architecture, stadiums cram people together in their seats.

I do not understand why Augusta National is holding their postponed tournament without spectators, though.

Since our initial announcement to postpone the 2020 Masters, we have remained committed to a rescheduled Tournament in November while continually examining how best to host a global sporting event amid this pandemic. As we have considered the issues facing us, the health and safety of everyone associated with the Masters always has been our first and most important priority.
Throughout this process, we have consulted with health officials and a variety of subject matter experts. Ultimately, we determined that the potential risks of welcoming patrons and guests to our grounds in November are simply too significant to overcome.
Even in the current circumstances, staging the Masters without patrons is deeply disappointing. The guests who come to Augusta each spring from around the world are a key component to making the Tournament so special. Augusta National has the responsibility, however, to understand and accept the challenges associated with this virus and take the necessary precautions to conduct all aspects of the Tournament in a safe manner. We look forward to the day when we can welcome all of our patrons back, hopefully in April 2021.

I don’t think that the problem is as bad as they make it sound — assuming that there even is a problem by the time the tournament begins — but Augusta National has always been a sensible kind of operation (except when they allowed women to become members, that is), so there it is.

I for one always watch the Masters on TV — I can’t remember ever missing it.  Even when I still lived in Seffrica I’d stay awake through the night to watch Player and Nicklaus and Palmer grappling with the course.

Playing Augusta was once a Bucket List item, but no more:  I’m too old, and my golf game, always kinda shit, would make me a laughing stock if I did somehow manage to get to play there.

I’d still like to drive a fast-ish car around Spa Francorchamps, though;  not in a race, but maybe on a Track Day.

I’m not too old for that.  Especially in one of these: