I'm Still Here
I just haven't had anything to say. My book project is dead. I killed it. Was writing and writing and then something just clicked and I said, "Who cares?" When nobody answered, I had my answer. Get it? Yes, I'm still very deep.
I got a request the other day from somebody who has something to do with Rod Carew to maybe do something. A year ago I would have jumped out of my slacks at the opportunity. Now, I'm not so sure what I'd have to add to this Hall of Famer's story. Conceivably nothing.
So I think and listen and sit back, assessing the world. I'm like a guy in a monastery, only mine has better bathrooms and this guy hasn't taken any vows of poverty or celibacy. My wife is too pretty for that.
Instead, I ponder the questions brought up by the baseball world. I listen to the media and let my contempt for them grow. It's not their fault. You have 24 hours in a day, 7 days a week to fill. But when rumors and hearsay become headlines, I question if I want any part of that. "My sources..." Your sources. Either you're making them up, which I don't think the baseball media does (this is baseball, not politics), or you're talking to people who are throwing their clients and organizations under the bus. Confidentiality isn't allowed anymore in the game. Not when Twitter needs to be fed; not when sports radio needs a soundbyte (by the way, in New York, you'd think it was football season: J-E-T-S Jets, Jets, Jets).
I'm rambling. Don't let me continue. It's negative. Is that something you want in your life? Something negative? I guess only if you take two negatives. When they meet, they become a positive.
Ohh, I just blinded you with science.
Take care. We'll talk soon. Maybe.