If a political party does not have its foundation in the determination to advance a cause that is right and that is moral, then it is not a political party; it is merely a conspiracy to seize power.
DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER
I love baseball and I love politics. In that order.
Two vivid early memories, apart from those I shared with my close family and early friends, stand out in my consciousness ; the wake and funeral of young President torn from us much too soon, and the 1964 St. Louis Cardinals going to and winning the World Series the following year. I was seven years old on that long November weekend in 1963, as the President’s body lie in state, my mother, brothers and sisters and I watching the somber procession of mourners quietly filing by President Kennedy’s bier, mom sobbing softly when Jackie, her black veil pushed back and young Carolyn in tow, knelt to kiss the American flag draped over his casket. His black caisson passing slowly the crowds on the sidewalks of D.C., the sharp report of rifle fire in the cold air of Arlington as he went to ground, his buoyant smile lost to us forever save for the priceless photographs and film.
But that tragic winter passed, as winters do, and what was lifeless sprang to life again across our nation — first in Florida, where grown men lucky enough to extend their childhood for just one more season gathered - and the lament of funereal firearms gave way to the joyous crack of ash on hardened leather.
That 1964 season the remarkable Lou Brock came to the Lou from Chicago and baseball’s regular season ended with one of the most exciting pennant races ever, the Cardinals taking advantage of the infamous “Phille Phold” to win The National League title by a single game on the last day of the season. The Cardinals then went on to beat the hated Yankees in The World Series - 4 games to 3.
They won it all again besting the Red Sox in seven in ‘67, and then, in 1968, the strange nexus of sport and politics in my life was forever cemented. All the tragedy and turmoil of that singular year ending (my mother crying again as that slow train carried Bobby across West Virginia) with a gut wrenching Cardinals loss in the Series to Denny McClain and the Detroit Tigers in October, and Nixon nabbing the White House the following month.
Bernie Sanders was a Brooklyn Dodgers fan. In the 40’s and early 50’s “The Bums” were a hard luck bunch, losing National league Pennant races to the Cardinal and Giants left and right and, during one dismal stretch, a remarkable five World Series to the Yankees in ‘41, ’47, ‘49, ‘52 and ‘53. They returned to the Series in 1955 and long suffering Dodgers fans finally savored a World Title when they beat the Yankees in 7 games.
Just two years later Dodger owner and money hungry Real Estate tycoon Walter O'Malley stabbed a dagger into the collective heart of Brooklyn by moving their beloved Bums to L.A. Some speculate that the youthful Bernie’s disenchantment with capitalism (and distrust of New York Real Estate developers) had it’s beginnings in that long ago summer of 1957, as he watched his team play their final game in Ebbets Field. This might be overstating the case somewhat, but considering how politics and Baseball became entwined in my own experience… I wonder...
Hillary, being from Illinois, was of course a Cubs Fan:
Excepting for certain even numbered years when she morphed into Pinstripe gal.
Now, I could take a swipe at Hil for flip flopping. Lord knows this diehard Cardinal Fan would never don a fucking Yankee Cap for something as inconsequential as a Senate seat, but that ain’t the point of this diary.
Considering how well the Northsiders are doing this year, I’m assuming that Hillary is going to turn her magic rally cap back inside out and root for her Cubs. Hell, I’m rooting for the Cubbies too, unless they happen to meet my Cardinals along the way in which case I want to beat some baby blue baby bear ass like a dirty boarding house rug.
But, save that eventuality...
GO Cubs!
First World Series Championship in 107 years?
Stupendous!!!!
First woman President???
Fantastic!!!
You are truly poised to knock it out of the park, Hillary.
But let someone who knows a bit about politics and America’ s other national pastime give you and your rabid fans some advice... couched in baseball terms.
Rule 1. Don’t dig too heartily into the batter’s box when there’s a crazy lefty on the mound. Bernie knows he’s nine runs down, in the top of the ninth, with little chance of mounting a comeback. His back’s against a wall. So, do yourself a favor; step out of the box, knock that sod from your cleats, tip your cap to the pitcher and watch you don’t take one in the ribs.
Cause this is just the pennant.
There will still be big games left to play. You don’t want a contusion or somethin’ hindering your swing in October.
Because you’re gonna need that big bat and you’re gonna need EVERYONE in the your Home League’s park, be they Cub Fan, Dodger Fan or even a Cardinal Crazy fanatic cheering your name before you take the wood to that hated Yankee.
“It ain’t over ‘til it’s over” as Yogi said.
So, be a sport, Hil.
Don’t show up the other team.