Commemorating the death of Pope John Paul II, the official VM girlfriend and I went out to see Sin City today. I enjoyed the flick, but not for any sense of emotional resonance. It was fun to look at, and felt like a roller-coaster ride at times. I was amazed that Mickey Rourke has devolved to the point at which he was a plausible choice to play the role of Marv.
Frank Miller’s comics tend not psychologize, so it’s no surprise that the movie was more thrill-ride than deep exploration of criminal personae. We don’t have a new Pulp Fiction on our hands, but those don’t come around too often.
Now, though, she’s back at her place in the city, and I’m home, watching the first game of the baseball season. We both sighed pretty heavily as we passed Yankee Stadium on the FDR Drive. Being a pretty even-handed guy, it’s been tough for me to deal with last year’s baseball playoffs. I’m willing to say, “My favorite team suffered the worst choke-job in the history of American professional team sports.” I’ve offered kudos to the Red Sox for playing hard and forcing that choke. Doesn’t make it easier to deal with.
Hearing the announcer say, “Randy Johnson is now taking the field for the New York Yankees!” was pretty freaky. I don’t like the strategy of signing the biggest free agents available and, as much as people goof on the Yanks for that, during their recent World Series run (1996, 1998, 1999, 2000), they didn’t really bring in significant free agents. They built through trades while they admittedly DID have a larger budget than other teams, so they could accommodate more players. But they didn’t just offer big money to bring guys in. That only started as the core got older, and it’s led to gaudy stats, but no World Series.
All of which is to say, I’m waiting for another Paul O’Neill to show up on this squad. I probably oughtta read Buster Olney’s recent book.
And, mark that I am, I do cop to sitting here on the sofa, cheering for Jeter.
But screw A-Rod.
