is older than it's ever been and now it's even older


Nice Fastball, Man

Best story I’ve heard in a while: how Jim Morris became the oldest rookie in Major League history. Morris was a former minor leaguer who quit sports and became a teacher and coach for a high school in Texas. At the age of 38, his team bet him if they would win the state championship he would have to go to a tryout with the Big Leagues. The rest of the story is fairy tale; they won, he tried out, and now he pitches for the Devil Rays. Life is sure weird, ain’t it?

However, the best comeback story ongoing now is that of Jennifer Capriati. A tennis wunderkind hailed by many before she even turned pro as the future queen of the sport, she rose meteorically and then crashed to earth eight years ago. After burning out, she put herself back in order and has now won two consecutive Grand Slams in a row. Nice work, Jen.

These stories remind me of The Natural, a movie I like not just because the hero is named Hobbs; stories of failure and redemption are very encouraging to the human spirit. I realize at the age of 26 I’m not terribly old, but it is odd to think that by my age Maggie’s mom had already given birth twice; my mom and dad had both been married, and I’m definitely not ever making the Major Leagues (actually, I am the answer to the trivia question “Who was the worst Little League player of all time?”). I got into trouble at school because I was always told I was super-gifted. I thought somehow that meant everything was going to be easy, and that people would just tell me what to do to go get paid. I feel like Roy Hobbs coming out of obscurity now, as I prepare to go to Law School. I’ve moped around for four years, experienced the real world and I want no part of it. It’s time to change the equation and get on top of the game.


The Condit saga, which I pointed out should be paid attention to, is getting worse. Apparently his new story is that he broke off his “close friendship” with intern Chandra Levy just two days before she disappeared. The strong stench of Rat hangs tightly on Mr. Condit.

More evidence that Anita Hill was right. Professor Hill lived in Norman, of course, at the time the confirmation hearings were happening. As I recall, she lived down on campus and her entire street was packed with media for a month solid. To this day, I can’t believe they confirmed that little toadie.


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