Mud puddle in Mudville

The circus is coming to Capitol Hill. The House Government Reform Committee begins it's hearing on Baseball this week. Lights, cameras, subpoenas! Grandstanding congressmen want to squeeze every last drop of scandal out of Baseball. No one except Jose Canseo with a book to sell wants this hearing. Earth to Washington! Can't we move on? Politicians should be more concerned with Social Security and skyrocketing gasoline prices. This dog and pony show is a waste of tax payer dollars. What exactly is the point to this hearing? Is the point to demonstrate the wide spread use of steroids in Baseball, Hell we all know that! Players are afraid the public reaction will affect their guaranteed contracts and endorsements deals. Instead of cleaning up their own act, Baseball hires lawyers just like the God Father Michael Corleone did. Organized crime, corrupt labor unions and half of the Nixon administration inhabited the same chairs that Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa will occupy this week. How dare Congress have interest in who is juiced and who in not! Congress has never subpoenaed a jazz musician or a stoned rock star to see what artificial stimulant helped them craft their art. If Congress had they would have had to buy a lot more chairs durning Woodstock. Congress might just as well point a finger at teenage fashion or rap music, bad taste affects us all. What about airport screener, they can ask us anything yet I don't hear people in that line complaining as baseball players are that their first amendment rights are being violated. This hearing is just one big witch hunt, Macarthyisim at its best. The only thing about baseball that is as good now as it was when baseball started play is the poem Casey At The Bat written by Ernest Thayer in 1888. This edited version always brings a smile to my Baseball season.
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day
The score stood nine to four with one inning to play
If only Casey could but get a whack at that
We would put up even money with Casey at the bat
The stricken multitude sat, there seemed little chance of Casey getting to the bat
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt
Ten thousand hands applauded when he wiped them on his shirt
The mighty Casey was advancing to the bat
Strike one the umpire said and there went a muffled roar like the storm waves of a distant shore
Once more the sphere flew, but Casey still ignored it and the umpire said strike two
Everyone saw Casey's face grow stern and cold knowing the next ball would not be so bold
Casey clenched his teeth in hate as he pounded the plate
The pitcher let the ball go, the air was shattered by force of Casey's blow
Somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright
The band is playing somewhere and somewhere hearts are light
Somewhere men are laughing and little children shout
But there is no joy in Mudville, the mighty Casey has struck out