American Pentathlon

With the London Olympics underway, the time's arrived to send our sportsmen and sportswomen into pitched battle and bring the hardware back to the good ol' U.S. of A.  Now that Baseball and Softball have been swift-kicked out of the Olympics, the better to avoid all that spittin' and cussin', that's at least thirty well-trained athletes, plus a couple of designated hitters, who won't get to hang a shiny, gold object on the moosehead over their fireplace.  As Americans, you and me and Ethel, we desperately need a new sport to dominate so we can once again feel good about our drive-through cheese fries.

We at My Two Innings have considered various possibilities for a new Olympic competition at a recent offsite retreat.  We have brainstormed, conceptualized, and imagineered.  We have used Kaizen techniques and Powerpoint slides.  And flipcharts.  Don't ever forget the flipcharts.  We have come up with ideas and suggestions and thought about them for about eight minutes, tops.  We have tested the final recommendation with our focus group, and she agrees with us.

The new Olympic sport: American Pentathlon.  Five days, five events:

• Day 1: Punt.
• Day 2: Pass.
• Day 3: Kick.
• Day 4: Home Run Derby.
• Day 5: NASCAR.

Brilliant, right?

I hear what you're saying: the stodgy, old-guard Europeans may balk at this innovation.  But never forget, my friends, we have the U.S. Dollar, God, and Liberty on our side.  And the Penske racing team.

I think you'll agree, it's imperative that we get American Pentathlon approved by the IOC as an Olympic sport in time for the 2020 Summer Games.  A strong proposal and a few key bribes should do it.  We can vote in one of their favorite sports at the same time: Rescuing Greece.

It's the least we can do in the Olympic Spirit.

Yankees Win, Blah Blah Blah

Speaking of Philadelphia, weren't they just in a World Series? It's been only two weeks since the end of the baseball season, but the victory by the Yankees over the Phillies has already receded from front-of-brain consciousness.

For me, the iconic play of the postseason came in Game 4: Johnny Damon's alert steal of third base when nobody was covering the bag. That play showed verve and spirit. Other than that, not much comes to mind. Hideki Matsui hit a bunch of homers and doubles in the final game, and Mariano Rivera pitched more than one inning a few times. Andy Pettitte pitched with his usual Pete Sampras-like countenance. Derek Jeter got on base some, I'm pretty sure. Must have. A-Rod had a big game at some point, didn't he?

Ever the fair-weather fan, I tried to get excited about the Yankees win, which (unacceptably to some) was nine long years in coming. I'd grown up in Upstate New York during the losing Yankee seasons of the late 1960's and early 1970's, post-Mickey Mantle, pre-Thurman Munson and pre-Reggie Jackson. After pitching ace Mel Stottlemyre, graceful outfielder Roy White, and the late Bobby Murcer, the talent level on those teams fell off sharply. Recalling those lean years, I hold that a championship is never to be taken for granted -- even by a pinstriped franchise with a payroll large enough to fund NASA.

In that spirit, I caught some of the 2009 post-parade ceremony at City Hall. Honestly, I've never seen a more subdued, workmanlike celebration. With few exceptions, the players sauntered out when their names were called, most looking for all the world like they'd rather be somewhere else, or wanted a fee for their appearance. (In fairness, serious hangovers could have been involved.) Keys to the city were presented by Mayor Bloomberg to each Yankee player, including minor-league call-ups, as well as every last team employee down to the shoeshine kid. A few short speeches were made; a few onlookers cheered.

Most of the speakers credited Yankees owner George Steinbrenner, now in failing health, and his sons for their massive spending on star players that has driven and disrupted the economics of baseball for three decades. To finance astronomical salaries, ticket prices have risen over the years, and have now reached the level of the absurd in the new Yankee Stadium. It's no longer New York's barbers and cabdrivers who can afford to attend the games, especially in the seats closest to home plate, but bankers, lawyers and celebrity politicians. Perhaps this explains the curiously underwhelming response when the final out of Game 5 was recorded. "The-e-e Yankees win!" said the team's broadcaster. The fans cheered; the players put on special caps and t-shirts; the loudspeakers played We Are The Champions. All according to plan.

(Is noone aware that Queen's vainglorious winner's anthem was meant to be ironic?)

Excellence through expectation and execution is admirable in business and sports alike, but only in the corporate world is it enough. Sports requires passion as well as achievement to hold fan interest and build loyalty. As the Yankees report to spring training in 2010 and prepare to defend their 27th championship -- will Manager Joe Girardi change his number from 27 to 28? -- the best they can hope for if they succeed is not ecstasy but relief at meeting the annual plan.

Meanwhile, baseball enthusiasts everywhere else will hope that their team can stoke up, catch lightning, and take down the mighty Yanks. Explosive exuberance awaits the franchise and its fans whose players can, just once, overachieve wildly, steal a pennant and a championship, and reach the very pinnacle of their professional existence.

          Irrational, yes; impossible, no --
          We're in first place! Go, Brewers, Go!

Arms Race

I collected my fourth public library card in Colorado today. This puts me one card ahead of my beloved spousal unit, who has only three and is totally envious that my new Douglas County card has a really cool oval shape.

However, as she reminds me, she has access to the University of Denver's library as an adjunct faculty member; moreover, her campus ID card has a nifty color photo. So it's possible that she has, in fact, pulled into the lead.

Don't you wish the U.S., Russia, and China would compete like this? It's cheaper than missile defense, and they could all chill out with some audio books from the library while waiting for the next intelligence report.

A Walk in the Park

It's a privilege for a weekend duffer like myself to play the Brown Deer Golf Course, a tree-lined county course that serves as home to the PGA Greater Milwaukee Open (or whatever it's called this year).

Once a season, I would stray from the municipal goat tracks that are more suitable to my well-hidden skills and treat myself to eighteen at Brown Deer. A final exam, as it were, that would almost assuredly result in my having to repeat the grade.

Not that that's a problem. My philosophy of playing golf is more Parks and Recreation than Competition. I love walking on a lawn that somebody else has mowed. Grouped by the starter in a foursome with three Brown Deer regulars, however, I became aware that my amateur-hour, isn't-this-a-nice-day approach wasn't shared by my low handicap partners.

One competitive business type, not even trying to relax on his day off, strode up to the tee box on a particularly picturesque hole. The scene: a beautiful, sunny day; lovely, lush shade trees; green grass; decorative flowerbeds; a challenging water hazard. Canada geese waddling across the fairway. A perfect natural setting in a gorgeous public park. Lucky-to-be-alive gorgeous.

Oblivious to it all, Pinhead executed a low, straight drive, scattering the geese. Pinhead's next words: "I don't know why they have those geese here. They don't add anything to the course."

Sometimes, there's nothing you can say. Factually, I'm pretty sure he was incorrect. In any case, I really hope he stepped in some ecology during his red-assed trek around the park.