Our teachings on the principle of forgiveness leave us some room for improvisation. We speculate about the nature of the unpardonable sin, and wonder, since we are commanded to forgive seventy times seven, if we are justified in holding a grudge upon the 491st occurrence of the offense. And sometimes we itch to settle a few scores, Old Testament style. This week, I reached the limit of my ability to forgive, and I find myself wanting to call down plagues of frogs and lice and locusts and boils on the bozos responsible for dragging something precious through the mud. I speak, of course, of the owners, player’s union, and commissioner in major league baseball.
This week the bloggernacle displayed it customary ability to focus on the unimportant and trifling. We saw lots of posts and comments about boring dumb stuff like presidential elections and the role of religion in public life. Snore. The only Mitt that is of lasting significance is the one used to catch fastballs, and is worn by the man crouched behind home plate. Fifty years from now, people will think Clinton, Edwards, and Obama is just another double play combination, like Tinker to Evers to Chance. Huckabee sounds like a utility infielder who sits in the dugout between Oil Can Boyd and Catfish Hunter. Romney might have a JD/MBA from Harvard, but when he gave a long droney speech about our national religion without mentioning baseball a single time, I have to wonder about his smarts. And the best Mormon poem isn’t the one about swans. It’s the epic that starts like this:
The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
This week the Mitchell report disclosed that there is widespread cheating in baseball and that some of the best players are juicing. Although it is enough to make a grown man cry, it is not surprising, really, given the rumors that have circulated for years. And it is also not surprising that two members of the Steinbrenner Yankees starting rotation can be added to the list that already includes Sheffield and Giambi. But what do you expect from a man who started his career as a football coach? The question is, where do we go from here?
The report takes a namby-pamby approach, hinting that it might be best to let bygones be bygones and to forgive and forget. I, for one, have had enough of this everlasting mollycoddling of wrongdoers. I lust in my heart after retribution.