It’s 9:30 a.m., I’ve been in front of the keyboard two hours and have determined there is absolutely nothing of major interest or pressing importance going on. Times like these, I wish I were a weatherman. There’s always weather.
So, we’ll attempt a visit to the Three-Dot Lounge and see where that takes us. . .
Nick Senzel won’t be a Red next year, not with Scott Boras being his agent. . . it’s not Senzel’s fault he can’t stay healthy (shoulder, knee, finger, ankle, vertigo) nor is it his fault how the Reds have jerked him around. . .
Wanna play centerfield?
Great. Work at it (he did), get decent at it (he was) and we’ll sign Shogo Akiyama to take the job.
How ‘bout 2B? Scooter Gennett is gone.
No, wait. We just acquired Mike Moustakas.
Now, Senzel is stuck in Triple-A while Shogo is playing like Shohei. . .
Wait. He’s not? Oh.
No matter what you think of Senzel, he was the No. 2 overall pick in 2016. The Reds spent $6.2 mil to sign him. Small-money teams can’t miss on picks like that. . .
AS FOR JOSEPH OSSAI. . . Every day we don’t hear about the extent of his wrist injury is another day to worry it could be worse than initially thought. . . Schleprock strikes here, again?
STICK TO SPORTS. . . We have screwed up the Afghanistan withdrawal about as badly as we can screw up anything. Why announce we’re leaving and give the Taliban time to capitalize? Why leave like ants at a picnic, the proverbial can of Raid pointed at us?
Why not keep it as low key as possible so the evacuation of Americans – and Afghans loyal to us for two decades – at least have a chance at an orderly escape?
We’ve left the Taliban an army of bases, weapons, airfields, helicopters etc. We’re leaving our allies to die. It didn’t have to be like this.
On the flip. . . we spent 20 years and piles of treasure training and equipping the Afghan Army, so it could flee and disintegrate in the face of a bunch of rebels driving pick-ups. I heard yesterday a news correspondent of Afghan descent talking about how much the Afghan people loved and appreciated what we made possible for them the last 20 years. Yeah? Why didn’t they fight for it this week and last?
Biden screwed this up, as did Trump before him. That said, leaving was the right thing to do. We shouldn’t be fighting for people who don’t fight for themselves. But the way we’re leaving is inexplicable, reprehensible and embarrassing. . .
The lesson is, don’t involve ourselves deeply anywhere that people have been fighting each other for a few thousand years. It’s arrogant to believe we can change that. Vietnam, anyone?
WHAT HAS ALWAYS BOTHERED ME ABOUT the whole Tebow thing, ever since he got cut from the NFL the first time. . . it insulted the guys who’ve spent their whole lives working for that one chance of a lifetime.
Tebow never played pro baseball before the Mets signed him. Tebow earned his first NFL shot. He didn’t capitalize, but he wasn’t taking up a spot of someone more deserving. Then, new Jax coach Urban Meyer signed him last winter, as a tight end, a position Tebow had never played, in a league he hadn’t been a part of since 2015.
Sorry, but that was just wrong.
Meyer released Tebow the other day, because he couldn’t play. Big surprise. One writer put it this way:
“Tebow, quite simply, looked like an outfielder who used to play quarterback trying to play tight end.’’
This isn’t about Tebow’s character, which is unassailable. We should all strive to be as good a human being as Tebow is. It’s about honoring guys who’ve worked to get their shot.
FREQUENT PERUSERS of This Space know I lean a little (yes, a little) to the Left on most issues, but not on the issue of Political Correctness. PC inhibits free speech. Those who zealously practice political correctness are, in the main, self-righteous anger-mongers who go to great lengths to trash people who don’t think in lockstep with the way they think. Liberal, wimpy media is partly to blame.
Civil discussion is dying. People are deciding it’s simply not worth it. We like to think we live in a nation where free thought is prized and novel ideas are valued. That’s simply no longer the case. Speak your mind rationally, you are canceled.
That’s a betrayal of who the Founding Fathers intended us to be.
On Monday, an agent for a tennis player libeled me, damaged a reputation I’ve spent a career building, yet his words are applauded and repeated worldwide. A free-lancer for the NY Times posted a dishonest Tweet about what occurred at a press conference, he suffers no repercussions.
Thankfully and predictably, the tempest surrounding me has slowed. I only got one death threat yesterday. Soon enough, the mob will move on to the next outrage.
But something has been lost. Something precious.
INTERESTINGLY, WHEN OSAKA WAS ASKED again about what happened Monday, she did not mention yours truly as the reason she shed a few tears and briefly left the presser. She cited all the bad stuff happening around the globe.
Hmmmm. . .
AND NOW. . .
Imbiber Dave is a spicy dude.
This week brought on a fun little poolside eating and drinking extravaganza amongst a few good friends.
What pairs well with a delicious Country Boy Nacho Bait Habanero Blonde Ale? Well jalapeño metts with jalapeño mustard, sautéed onions and chili lime corn of course!
Now I’m not a huge fan of the Country Boy lineup, but this beer is always so delicious, particularly on a warm summer evening. It is also way easier to find around here than the Ballast Point Habanero Sculpin. Not only is the Nacho Bait good, but it is consistently spicy while still being balanced and not simply all burn.
After enjoying our spice bombs, it was time to relax with some special, non-local beers another friend had snagged for me. First, the Eight Degrees Below Howling Gale Pale Ale. This beer, all the way from Ireland, is very unique. At 4.5% and 38 IBU, it’s an easy drinker. Although well hopped, it has quite a bit of malty sweetness, not so much as an Irish cream, but definitely more than a typical American Pale Ale.
Next was Hope Beer’s Passifyoucan Pale Ale. Another Irish Brewery, this had a slightly fruity taste. At 4.6% and 22 IBU, I was somewhat surprised that this was even called a Pale Ale. However if asked to place this in the Pils or Cream category I couldn’t do that either. Super fun to have a couple pints that were truly different from every beer I’ve tasted in recent memory.
If you didn’t reach for the Pepto by now, it probably makes sense to sip one last Cheetah, Doom Pedal, or Lift before calling it a night.
Cheers!
TUNE O’ THE DAY. . . An unheralded pop master. This guy made one great record, his self-titled debut, and one very good single, this one.
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