yustyoking

An almost histrionic debate rages over the future of newspapers, magazines, books and print media in this, the Age of Pixilation. Even our great American pastime of baseball is threatened by the proliferation of video games. From GameBoy to Xbox, the siege is relentless. Whether it is nobler in the eye of the beholder to play the odds on Grand Theft Auto or Call of Duty, every nanosecond spent online is one less moment upon the glorious Field of Dreams. Generations chanted “Take me out to the ballgame.” Can the same be said about Sunset Overdrive, regardless of how stunning its graphics?

Just because I own a landline doesn’t put me at the mercy of every telemarketer selling the Brooklyn Bridge. When a robocall starts out “Don’t hang up, this is not a sales call,” I immediately hang up.

Imperial Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941 interrupted a Brooklyn Dodgers – New York Giants football game, as troop call-ups echoed over the P.A. system at the polo grounds. While many of our great grandparents were at that game, the same cannot be said about Super Mario Bros.

Never-the-less, we shouldn’t shun the new media— an impossibility, since there’s no stopping progress. After all, the development of Viagra hasn’t spelled the end of traditional sex. I’ve had a lot of fun with my middle finger.

To paraphrase Chris Hughes, owner and publisher of the New Republic, baseball is much larger than myself or any single individual. Despite what I have suggested in preceding paragraphs (a man has a right to change his mind), the vast majority of Americans remain dedicated to Our National Pastime, baseball. Screw soccer! Unable to see the forest for the trees, aluminum bats are here to stay. And even if the 2014 season is dead and gone, alas, people remain eager and excited to maintain a sustainable and strong National League and American League. Hey, Half-Life: Counter-Strike by Sierra, who’s on first now???

I knew John F. Kennedy. Not in the biblical sense, but I was aware of his existence. If you really care about an institution and want to make it strong for the ages, you don’t strike out with bases loaded, bottom of the ninth. Whiffing helps no one. Leave the goats and oats to the goat herders. I, for one, say: You roll up your sleeves, you pull down your pants and you practice traditional sex, regardless of what they tell you in the ads on TV. An erection lasting more than four hours calls for a national celebration! But enough about me (humble brag). Let us never forget, television was the slippery slope that led us to this changing world with which we are currently at odds. The 176-year-old sport called baseball is worth fighting for.