A Japanese influence on an American game

In the winter of 1934, Babe Ruth and a band of big league barnstormers traveled to Japan to take the game of baseball to the Far East. Riding a motorcycle, Ruth was greeted by thousands of cheering Japanese people as he traveled from city to city. Hall of Fame players such as Jimmie Foxx, Lefty Grove, and Lou Gehrig, as well as Babe Ruth were among the fourteen players who played a series of twenty-two games in Japan that winter. Two years later the Japanese Professional Baseball League was formed and the rest is history.

Baseball, known as America’s pastime, has been around in this country since the American Civil War. It’s been said that Union soldier Abner Doubleday invented the game after the Battle of Gettysburg. The first professional American team recognized is the Cincinnati Red Stockings that formed in 1876. It’s safe to say that baseball has a well versed and storied past in this country. The game stems from climactic folk heroes such as Babe Ruth to esteemed villains such as Barry Bonds and Shoeless Joe Jackson. There have been scandals, dramatic post-season finishes, labor strikes, historic record controversy, and even gambling, but the game itself has remained steadfast.

Only now in the 21st century is the game beginning to take a foot hold in other countries. This past March, the sport held its second World Baseball Classic. It is a global tournament between member nations to determine superiority and dominance within the sport. Baseball has spread as far south to the Caribbean Islands, across the Atlantic to Italy and Greece, and has spread as far east into Japan and the rest of Asia, where it is quite arguably the most popular of all, second only by the United States.

The initiation that Babe Ruth gave the game in the winter of 1934 to the citizens of Japan ignited a passion in that country that has taken shape now for over seventy-five years. Only now are we beginning to market to that country in ways we could have only dreamed about in the past.

Japan is an island location, located in East Asia in the Pacific Ocean comprising of over 3,000 islands. A major economic power, Japan has the world’s second largest economy by nominal GDP and the third largest purchasing power parity. It is also the world’s fourth largest exporter and the sixth largest importer. It’s a developed country with high living standards and boasts the longest life expectancy in the entire world. Its history dates back to nearly 30,000 B.C., and for much of that time period, complete power was held by the Emperor.

The twentieth century brought many changes to Japan including its involvement in World War II. Ironically, during that time period it was Japanese ball players who once cherished American culture and sports were now crying out to the masses, “To hell with Babe Ruth!”

It wasn’t until after the Second World War that they’re economy began to thrive again and with that, the country began to divulge into leisure activities such as baseball. All of the sudden, the Japanese culture embraced the sport once again and continued on with its storied past.
Sadaharu Oh played for the Yomiuri Giants of the Japanese League from 1959-1980. Over the span of 22 seasons, Oh hit 868 career homeruns, which is a record that stands to this day in Japan and is likely never to be broken. This is mostly due to the style of baseball played there, which emphasizes small ball and sacrificing runners. If Sadaharu Oh had played in the American Major Leagues, he would have broken Babe Ruth’s record by over 100 Homeruns. The entire fabric of how American’s view the hollowed homerun record would have been changed forever. Babe Ruth would be a mere footnote in American history instead of a cultural icon. Barry Bonds and Hank Aaron would be an afterthought, and the entire game itself would be different.

However, in that period of time, American’s viewed Japanese baseball as inferior to the American version. It’s been said by many baseball historians that Oh would not have been as successful had he had a chance to compete in the Major Leagues. Additionally, in that period of time, baseball was just then getting used to the idea of having black ballplayers in its league. The American game was in no shape whatsoever to welcome any Asian into the mix.

The first player to reach the major leagues from Japan was Hideo Nomo who was a star rookie pitcher for the Los Angeles Dodgers in 1995. All he did was win the rookie of the year, throw two no-hitters and lead the entire league in strikeouts twice. “Nomo-Mania” had commenced. He is credited for essentially paving the way for Japanese ball players to relocate into the United States. After finding a loophole in his Japanese professional contract, Nomo was able to leave his country behind and go on to dominate the National League. Others since, have soon followed in his footsteps.

Ichiro Suzuki is credited as the first position player to leave the Japanese leagues for greener pastures in the United States. Since his major league career started in 2001, he has been considered annually as one of the leagues best hitters, and has an outside shot at making the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame, which if it occurs, he will become the first Japanese born ball player to do so.

Major League Baseball benefitted measurably in 2001 by allowing for fans in Japan for the first time to vote on the players in the All-Star Game. The result was the highest voter turnout in league history and Ichiro became the highest vote getter. This essentially set the precedent of beginning to market the American game to Japan.

As a result, Ichiro merchandise sales in Japan set all-time highs and Major League profits began to rise substantially. Ichiro’s team, the Seattle Mariners became the most popular team in Japan. The Mariners were even more popular than all of the teams in the Japanese Professional Leagues, and as a result every one of their games was televised in Japan. This allowed for additional marketing opportunities. Suddenly, Japanese companies were buying advertisement sign boards inside of Seattle’s own Safeco Park. The games began to be broadcast by Japanese broadcasters, and an influx of Japanese media began to take over the Mariners’ press box. Ichiro became not only an American fascination, but a global empire, that took Japan by storm. Ichiro became the legend that Sadaharu Oh had only dreamed of becoming. Not only that, American baseball owners were profiting in ways that they never thought could actually happen.

What had started in 1995 with Hideo Nomo as an anomaly became a full-fledged marketing opportunity in the spring of 2001 with Ichiro Suzuki. Somewhere in between, the American game became even more popular in Japan then the domestic version. Japanese fans complained of the boring conservative brand being played locally that had dominated the country for over seventy years, in favor for the exciting, free-willing style of American Baseball. In Japan, it is commonplace to sacrifice oneself for the good of the team. This led to low scoring affairs with little fan fair. It was clear that the Japanese preferred the 3-run Homerun to the sacrifice bunt. Japan became enamored with American Stars such as Ken Griffey Jr., Mark McGwire, and Sammy Sosa. All of whom appeared larger than life to the Japanese public.

Finally Major League baseball began to understand how to market itself outside of its own country. The league owners realized that Japan was a huge un-tapped market. Slowly, they have begun to infiltrate the market by selling baseball merchandise, equipment, advertisements, and corporate sponsorships. Not to mention essentially selling back its own home-grown players.

In 1995, it is estimated that Japan’s major satellite network, NHK, reached 7.4 million households. In that period of time, the network televised every start Hideo Nomo made even if it was at 4am, local Japanese time. Whenever Nomo pitched, it became a national news story. Japanese travel agents began to sell “Nomo Tours’ to Los Angeles that included tickets to Dodger games. By the time Ichiro reached the Major Leagues in 2001, the satellite network had doubled in household size, and has been growing exponentially ever since.

Additionally, American-Japanese baseball relations have reached into popular culture. In 1992, Tom Selleck starred in the film Mr. Baseball. The plot revolved around an aging American Ballplayer that was put on the trading block with the New York Yankees in favor of a younger prospect. He then resurrected his career by going over to Japan to play. There he learned to embrace the Japanese version of the game and continue his successful career. The film was a huge blockbuster hit in Japan, and is a further example of a marketing opportunity in that country.

In 2006, Trey Hillman, manager of the Nippon Ham Fighters became one of the few American born managers to reach a God-like status to the population. That season he took the last place Fighters to win the Japanese World Series and as a result he was given the opportunity to manage in the American Major Leagues with the Kansas City Royals. Citizens on the island of Hokkaido, in northern Japan, celebrated Hillman’s success by opening up an American Style Texas barbeque restaurant in his honor. Pictures of Hillman from childhood to adulthood adorned the walls of the restaurant and he will forever be remembered as the American who rescued the failed Japanese club into a celebrated national champion.

Additionally, Hillman used his newfound platform as a stepping stone in relations between the two versions of the American-Japanese game. In some ways his managing style in the Japanese League has been adopted and reformed to fit a version of American Style. Hillman embraces lefty-righty balance within the lineup and continues to have a preference for pitching, speed and defense within his American roster, as opposed to power and slug which has been prevalent within the American game for over fifteen years. Hillman’s brand of baseball is not exactly new to the league, as variations of the philosophy was dominant within the 1960’s and 70’s. However, he has in fact adopted some Japanese drills that have become apart of the Kansas City Royals Spring Training routine.

Since the 1995, many players in both countries have crossed over the Pacific Ocean to play the game of baseball. Some have relocated in order to make significant more money and take part in “a coming out party,” while others have relocated to jumpstart a failed career in hopes of finding a roster that will accept them. Relocated players have to consider various variables when contemplating immigration to the new country. Language and cultural barriers are to name a few. However within time, most players adapt and if deemed successful, they become apart of the history of that brand of baseball to both the American and Japanese citizens alike.

It’s now been over 75 years since Babe Ruth and his barnstorming team took the field in Japan. Since that time the popularity of baseball has slowly begun to take shape and has emerged now as an institution in that country. The country is well represented in international competition and continues to show the world an adaptation of the style of game that is foreign to Americans but natural to its own populace. The Japanese brand will continue to influence how Americans view the game in the future and must consider it an honor to do so. Given the state of a global economy in today’s world, it’s no doubt that the Americans have identified a market that was previously unexploited and have done what they do best. That is to sell its brand to those that are willing to consume, and it’s clear that the Japanese are content to oblige. Babe Ruth never did have a clear vision of the excitement he started.

An evening with Sgt. Slaughter...Cobra clutch included

Today I was driving south on I-29 from the airport to downtown KC. It occurred to me that it was the first time I had driven that route since the day I picked up Sgt. Slaughter from the airport. As I was making the drive south I got to thinking about the conversation me and the Sarge both had that day. From the moment I picked him up to the last time I saw him sitting on the side of the curb of the Hyatt in full “Sarge” attire, I couldn’t help but think how much of a tragic figure he really was. That day, I really did learn a lot about what it meant to be a “celebrity."

I awaited his arrival at Terminal B at KCI airport. I held up a handmade sign hastily scribbled with the name “Robert Remus” on the front. Just an hour before, we joked whether or not we should actually put his wrestling name on the sign. Would anybody notice? Would anybody care? I was standing there a solid 15 minutes when I saw him. He was a mountain of a man with broad shoulders and a chip on his shoulder. His frame was pushing 6’5 and 330lbs., a true giant amongst the commoners. Wikipedia had told me hours before, that he was born on the exact same day and year as my dad. They may have shared the same birthdays, but different were their experiences. I was soon to find out how different those stories actually were.

I greeted him cheerfully as he recognized my sign. I naively asked him if he’d ever been to Kansas City before and his response was classic. “I’ve been here too many times,” he said as we made our way to the car. I didn’t know what that meant, but was eager to find out.

I helped him with his bags to the parking lot as we exchanged a few pleasantries. My experiences picking people up from the airport were limited to minor league baseball players. The occurrence was limited mainly to baseball has-beens and never-weres. I knew the game but a feeling emerged over me as if I would not forget this experience any time soon. This was going to be different. We put the bags in the trunk and jumped in for the 25 minute ride to the Hyatt in downtown Kansas City. MapQuest had assured me of that.

As we made our way south past Vivian Road, he mentioned to me that he and a wrestler buddy of his of years past, used to rent an apartment there. He asked me to drive by to see if it was still there. But alas, it was not. It looked as though it had been torn down for some time. I could see a look of depression fill his face. It was there, while looking at the torn down apartment, when he started to talk about the good old days and how his life had changed, most of it, not for the better. He did his best to recall the happier times when he wrestled in a small television studio in St. Joe 30 years beforehand. When he spoke about those days, you could really see that he missed them dearly. He mentioned an old woman that absolutely hated him because he played the “villain”. He loved playing the villain more than anything in the world.

We entered downtown, and it was unrecognizable to him. He hadn’t been here in 20 years. I mentioned that the city was building a new arena downtown and you could tell that he couldn’t have cared any less. “They all look the same,” he said when talking about the new arena.

I asked him what life was like on the road. It seemed as though a cloud had hung over him. He had spent some 30 years on the road. Oh he had seen his fair share of good times. He mentioned a bout he had had in Alaska against Andre the Giant. He had gone up against Hulk Hogan. He fought the best and he made it to the big time. But now his life was reduced to minor league appearances and slugging through his old “Sgt. Slaughter” routine for peanuts compared to what he used to pull in. One failed marriage later and a life spent not getting to know his kids, he was here in Kansas City just doing another gig. Just enough money to pay his child support and his bills. I felt sorry for him in away. He had not lived a normal life.

We arrived at the hotel. They did not know him or have his reservation. He turned to me for answers. You could see that this was an all too familiar scene in his life. Thankfully, a quick call to Bryan Williams, the community relations director, and a couple of minutes later we were back in business. He was tired. I helped him to his room and put down his bags on the bed. “Can you believe I can still fit into this old outfit?” he said to me as he held up his wrestling garb. It was as if I was staring into time machine of failed expectations. How does one respond to a question like that?

He said he was going to take a nap and I told him that I’d be back to pick him up at 4:30pm. We exchanged numbers and I was on my way.

I arrived back at the Hyatt at 4:30 on the dot only to find the Sarge at the hotel bar. He was half lit and ready to go. We jumped back into the car and I gave him the rundown as to what to expect on the night. He had heard these words before. Just another gig, ho hum, sign a few autographs, take a few pictures, give a few half nelsons. It’s all part of the deal.

He was surprised to see the Kansas Speedway. He had no idea that it was near our final destination. His face lit up like a little kid at Christmas. He was an avid NASCAR fan and it seemed as though this was the one thing in life that kept him going. “Lets drive over there!” he shouted gleefully while pointing at the speedway. “Man I went to Daytona last year and you wouldn’t believe how big that place was.” He was in heaven.

We pulled into the Community America Ballpark. “It’s time for work,” he said and he dutifully put his game face on. I showed him to the clubhouse dressing room and within minutes he was in character. He wore black wrestling spandex, black wrestling boots, a camouflage shirt, aviator sunglasses and his trademark drill sergeant hat fully pimped out in sequence around the brim.

I was to be his game-day bodyguard. It was a fact at which seemed preposterous. He outweighed me by over 100lbs and seemed at least a foot taller. I had no business protecting Sgt. Slaughter that day, but was thankful for the experience.

At 5:30pm the gates opened. We had positioned ourselves behind the left field wall. We had a table, a couple of chairs, a money pouch and all the beer we could drink. All we needed now were thousands of drunken rednecks oozing for an autograph and picture.

Thankfully for us, they had arrived. It seemed as though every wrestling fan and drunken redneck in Wyandotte County had come to see the legend. The lines stretched over 200ft. He was in rare form too. He got a kick out of the stories he heard from the fans. “I remember seeing you up against Andre the Giant!” one drunken fan said. The Sarge’s face shined. He too remembered it. And there was a part of him that wished he was still there, back in the spotlight. Back where he was on top of the world. Instead, he was just another has-been selling his past for a few extra bucks in Wyandotte County, KS. His mood changed. He loved hearing the old stories but couldn’t seem to get past the present. “Let’s get us another couple more beers Aaron,” he said to me as the line to see him stretched halfway down the third base line.

He had been signing autographs now for a little over an hour now as one excited fan approached him. To meet Sgt. Slaughter had been this guy’s lifelong dream. Dressed head-to-toe in WWF attire, this man was prepared. He handed the Sarge a wrestling magazine from 1971. “I cannot believe you have this!” he said to the fan. “I’ve been looking for this for years!” He showed me a picture of him and Kansas City wrestling legend, Harley Race on the cover. They both were going at it in St. Joe, Missouri. And he seemed content. He was a younger man then and his life ahead was full of opportunity. For that split moment, his face looked as young as that picture in the magazine. He signed the magazine and took a picture with the man and it was on to the next one. He showed a plethora of emotions in that autograph line. Some excitement, some discouragement, some just plain drunken.

The minor league ballgame brought him a couple of on-field appearances. One where he sang during the seventh inning stretch while using his trademark “wrestling” voice. He sang "Take me out to the ballgame" as if he'd just drank a glass of gravel. And another where he refereed the sumo match. He had done his job dutifully and it was time to take him back to the Hotel.“I’m not sure I have too many of these things left in me,” he said while driving back to downtown Kansas City. His body had betrayed him from years of abuse. Perhaps it was one “cobra clutch” too many. Or quite simply put, he had spent just too many nights on the road. In fact, the road was his home and a hotel room was his sanctuary.

We pulled into the hotel drive and he got out. He thanked me for sharing the evening with him and I too expressed the same gratitude. I assured him that if needed I could be back in the morning to take him back to the airport. “No,” he said, “I’ll just call a cab. You go and have a good time tonight. Try to get some ass for the ole’ Sarge!”I drove away contemplating the rest of the evening and the events that had taken place. I couldn’t get over the ups and downs, the highs and lows, of a truly tragic figure.

Suddenly, I heard my phone ring. I didn’t recognize the number. So I answered cautiously. “Hello?” I whispered. “It’s the Sarge! You forgot to pay me!”

“Damnit, I’ll be right back. Sorry ‘bout that.”

I turned the car around and raced back to the hotel. I made a quick left into the hotel parking lot. I gazed to my right only to see a mountain of a man sitting quietly on the side of the hotel curb in full “Sgt. Slaughter” garb. Drunken hotel customers walked past him without the slightest hint of recognition. He was glad I was back, but glad it was over. “I thought you were gonna stiff me!” he said in a desolate tone. I thought that said it all.

American History (1866-1877)

For the past few days, I have become aware of the fact that my buddy Ed is taking American History to 1877....He then remarked to me that he was itching to find out what happend afterwards. As if he didn't know. HA HA. It was a funny joke which made me laugh. It was a quality attempt to make light of history hilarity. Truly funny stuff. Suffice to say, Ed IS living in the present and is fully aware of present day issues. However it is important to note that I, myself have taken both American History courses offered at virtually any college in the United States. But there is an ironic twist to this fact.

To complete my bachelors degree in Economics, I attended to state universities. I attended UMKC for 2 years, then transfered to the University of Missouri. Upon completion of said degree, I have only now realized that there was a flaw in my education. Specifically whilst taking my two American history courses. At UMKC I took American History to 1865, and at the University of Missouri I took American History since 1877. Somewhere along the lines I got trampled through the cracks. There is a lost 12 years of history of which i know nothing about and was not educated in a formal manner. The years 1865 to 1877 leaves a void in my life, in which I have only now fully realized. This is a fact in which I feel has lead to an emptyness in my soul. This is why I have decided to learn at least one fact per year between 1865 and 1877 for the next 12 days. I feel that upon completion of this fact finding mission, my life will be complete and I will move forward in a sober fashion.

I will begin with the year 1866...

Feb 13: Jesse James committed the first daylight bank robbery in the history of the United States in Liberty, MO

July 24: Tennessee becomes the first state readmitted into the Union following the American Civil War. This is a fact that is noted for being a backroom deal between government cronies.

Late fall: The great tea race of London ends in London. The race was a competiton between English clippers to see who was the fastest ship to bring the first tea leaves from China.

An afternoon with Sgt. Slaughter...cobra clutch included

Today I was driving south on I-29 from the airport to downtown. It occurred to me that it was the first time I had driven that route since the day I picked up Sgt. Slaughter from the airport. As I was making the drive south I got to thinking about the conversation me and the Sarge both had that day. From the moment I picked him up to the last time I saw him sitting on the side of the curb of the Hyatt in full “Sarge” attire, I couldn’t help but think how much of a tragic figure he really was. That day, I really did learn a lot about what it meant to be a “celebrity”.

I awaited his arrival at Terminal B at KCI airport. I held up a handmade sign hastily scribbled with the name “Robert Remus” on the front. Just an hour before, we joked whether or not we should actually put his wrestling name on the sign. Would anybody notice? Would anybody care? I was standing there a solid 15 minutes when I saw him. He was a mountain of a man with broad shoulders and a chip on his shoulder. His frame was pushing 6’5 and 330lbs., a true giant amongst the commoners. Wikipedia had told me hours before, that he was born on the exact same day and year as my dad. They may have shared the same birthdays, but different were their experiences. I was soon to find out how different those stories actually were.

I greeted him cheerfully as he recognized my sign. I naively asked him if he’d ever been to Kansas City before and his response was classic. “I’ve been here too many times.” He said as we made our way to the car. I didn’t know what that meant, but was eager to learn.

I helped him with his bags to the parking lot as we exchanged a few pleasantries. My experiences picking people up from the airport were limited to minor league baseball players. The occurrence was limited mainly to baseball has-beens and never-weres. I knew the game but a feeling emerged over me as if I would not forget this experience any time soon. This was going to be different. We put the bags in the trunk and jumped in for the 25 minute ride to the Hyatt in downtown Kansas City. MapQuest had assured me of that.

As we made our way south past Vivian Road, he mentioned to me that he and a wrestler buddy of his of years past, used to rent an apartment there. He asked me to drive by to see if it was still there. But alas, it was not. It looked as though it had been torn down for some time. I could see a look of depression fill his eyes. It was there, while looking at the torn down apartment, when he started to talk about the good old days and how his life had changed. He did his best to recall the happier times when he wrestled in a small television studio in St. Joe 30 years beforehand. When he spoke about those days, you could really see that he missed them dearly. He mentioned an old woman that absolutely hated him because he played the “villain”. He loved playing the villain more than anything.

We entered downtown, and it was unrecognizable to him. He hadn’t been here in 20 years. I mentioned that the city was building a new arena downtown and you could tell that he couldn’t have cared any less. “They all look the same”, he said when talking about the new arena.
I asked him what life was like on the road. It seemed as though a cloud had hung over him. He had spent some 30 years on the road. Oh he had seen his fair share of good times. He mentioned a bout he had, had in Alaska against Andre the Giant. He had gone up against Hulk Hogan. He fought the best and he made it to the big time. But now his life was reduced to minor league appearances and slugging through his old “Sgt. Slaughter” routine for peanuts compared to what he used to pull in. One failed marriage later and a life spent not getting to know his kids, he was here in Kansas City just doing another gig. Just enough money to pay his child support and his bills. I felt sorry for him in away. He had not lived a normal life.

We arrived at the hotel. They did not know him or have his reservation. He turned to me for answers. You could see that this was an all too familiar scene in his life. Thankfully, a quick call to you and a couple of minutes later we were back in business. He was tired. I helped him to his room and put down his bags on the bed. “Can you believe I can still fit into this old outfit?” he said to me as he held up his wrestling garb. It was as if I was staring into time machine of failed expectations. How does one respond to a question like that?

He said he was going to take a nap and I told him that I’d be back to pick him up at 4:30pm. We exchanged numbers and I was on my way.

I arrived back at the Hyatt at 4:30 on the dot only to find the Sarge at the hotel bar. He was half lit and ready to go. We jumped back into the car and I gave him the rundown as to what to expect on the night. He had heard these words before. Just another gig, ho hum, sign a few autographs, take a few pictures, give a few half nelsons. It’s all part of the deal.

He was surprised to see the Kansas Speedway. He had no idea that it was near our final destination. His face lit up like a little kid at Christmas. He was an avid NASCAR fan and it seemed as though this was the one thing in life that kept him going. “Lets drive over there!” he shouted gleefully while pointing at the speedway. “Man I went to Daytona last year and you wouldn’t believe how big that place was.” He was in heaven.

We pulled into the Community America Ballpark. “It’s time for work,” he said and he dutifully put his game face on. I showed him to the clubhouse dressing room and within minutes he was in character. He wore black wrestling spandex, black wrestling boots, a camouflage shirt, aviator sunglasses and his trademark drill sergeant hat fully pimped out in sequence around the brim.
I was to be his game-day bodyguard. It was a fact at which seemed preposterous. He outweighed me by over 100lbs and seemed at least a foot taller. I had no business protecting Sgt. Slaughter that day, but was thankful for the experience.

At 5:30pm the gates opened. We had positioned ourselves behind the left field wall. We had a table, a couple of chairs, a money pouch and all the beer we could drink. All we needed now were thousands of drunken rednecks oozing for an autograph and picture.

Thankfully for us, they had arrived. It seemed as though every wrestling fan and drunken redneck in Wyandotte County had come to see the legend. The lines stretched over 200ft. He was in rare form too. He got a kick out of the stories he heard from the fans. “I remember seeing you up against Andre the Giant!” one drunken fan said. The Sarge’s face shined. He too remembered it. And there was a part of him that wished he was still there, back in the spotlight. Back where he was on top of the world. Instead, he was just another has-been selling his past for a few extra bucks in Wyandotte County, KS. His mood changed. He loved hearing the old stories but couldn’t seem to get past the present. “Let’s get us another couple more beers Aaron,” he said to me as the line to see him stretched halfway down the third base line.

He had been signing autographs now for a little over an hour now as one excited fan approached him. To meet Sgt. Slaughter had been this guy’s lifelong dream. Dressed head-to-toe in WWF attire, this man was prepared. He handed the Sarge a wrestling magazine from 1971. “I cannot believe you have this!” he said to the fan. “I’ve been looking for this for years!” He showed me a picture of him and Harley Race on the cover. They both were going at it in St. Joe, Missouri. And he seemed content. He was a younger man then and his life ahead was full of opportunity. For that split moment, his face looked as young as that picture in the magazine. He signed the magazine and took a picture with the man and it was on to the next one. He showed a plethora of emotions in that autograph line. Some excitement, some discouragement, some just plain drunken.

The minor league ballgame brought him a couple of on-field appearances. One where he sang the seventh inning stretch while using his trademark “wrestling” voice. And another where he refereed the sumo match. He had done his job dutifully and it was time to take him back to the Hotel.

“I’m not sure I have too many of these things left in me,” he said while driving back to downtown Kansas City. His body had betrayed him from years of abuse. Perhaps it was one “cobra clutch” too many. Or quite simply put, he had spent just too many nights on the road. In fact, the road was his home and a hotel room was his sanctuary.

We pulled into the hotel drive and he got out. He thanked me for sharing the evening with him and I too expressed the same gratitude. I assured him that if needed I could be back in the morning to take him back to the airport. “No,” he said, “I’ll just call a cab. You go and have a good time tonight. Try to get some ass for the ole’ Sarge! ”

I drove away contemplating the rest of the evening and the events that had taken place. I couldn’t get over the ups and downs, the highs and lows, of a truly tragic figure.
I suddenly heard my phone ring. I didn’t recognize the number. So I answered cautiously. “Hello?” I whispered. “It’s the Sarge! You forgot to pay me!”
“Damnit, I’ll be right back. Sorry ‘bout that.”

I turned the car around and raced back to the hotel. I made a quick left into the hotel parking lot. I gazed over to my right only to see a mountain of a man sitting quietly on the side of the curb in full “Sgt. Slaughter” garb. The hotel customers walked past him without the slightest hint of recognition. He was glad I was back, but glad it was over. “I thought you were gonna stiff me!” he said in desolate tone. I thought that said it all.

i am back

hello folks after a little time from my blogging i am back to give you all a little run down on what i have learned over the past couple wks.

1. first never joke about fucking a prostitute, your girlfriend or fiance will not think its funny mine didn't she started crying. the explanation i was in the military and all my buddy's did wont hold water.

2. if you fucked a girl while stationed in Okinawa even though you were not technically with your girlfriend or fiance don't tell her again she might start crying.

3. face herpes sucks it makes you look like a leper, i got this training for a fight its not real herpes but its in the same family.

4. don't become a royals fan, i for real saw something in them i thought it would be a good yr well i and a lot of folks were wrong.

that's just a little i have learned, life is funny, you spend yrs trying to get it right but i want to tell you all you wont. you will commit mistakes like i mentioned or worse, but you go to bounce back. that's the key.

and my final lesson i learned was after you stuck threw all the things life throws you in the end your all alone... that will lead me to explain my dick in the wind theory for another day.


for now the Salmon is out

The Erin Andrews Peephole Saga

I'd just like to say a few words on the Erin Andrews story that has broken over the past few days. For those that don't know, Erin was filmed through a reverse peephole in her hotel room. And yes...she was naked.

Now, I'd like to state, there is not one man in this country or universe for that matter that would not like to see Erin Andrews naked. You'd almost have to be a communist if you didn't. But there's good naked and there's bad naked. I'm not saying that what I saw was bad naked, but how it went down was definitely not cool.

Only a dirtball hillbilly sleaze would put a camera up to a peephole. These are the type of dudes that you see on the Chris Hansen, "Catch a Predator" show. If you really want to see Erin Andrews naked, do what any other respectable male in this country would do...Buy her 3 long island iced teas at the hotel bar and let the magic run it's course. It's not exactly rocket science here. Nobody thinks you're cool because you peeped into a peephole, dude. In fact, that's very un-dude of you to do.

I'd be willing to bet my entire life savings, that given a few more years, Erin would've gotten naked for the entire world on her own merit, legally. Possibly for Hugh Hefner. Now we can all kiss that dream goodbye, thanks to this douche bag.

By the way, I saw the video. She's good looking and all. And I bet deep down inside, behind the impending lawsuits and negative attention, I'd bet that she's secretly really into all of this exposure. Any good looking woman out there loves to be told she's hot, just to feed her ego. Afterall, she's worked hard on her craft and her body and she deserves a little attention. But guys out there reading this, don't go overboard. Don't be a douche bag about all of this. Act like a Marcus Allen touchdown. Act like you've been there before.

4th of July and wedding day are they the same

i am getting married and it accord to me that the 4th of July and wedding day is the same thing.

everyone gets together and spends far more for a single days event then ever needed.

money is spent tempers and alcohol flow freely.

and in the end something blows up then its done aand over with

My letter to a Red Sox fan

Bryan, So what I’m about to tell you I’ve been meaning to get off my chest for years, and who better to tell than Bryan Williams…I have been a closet Red Sox fan for many years. Let’s face it. It’s not easy to be me when I admit this. And I’m fully aware of all of the ramifications resulting in my outing. A Missouri guy admitting he likes a team on the east coast is credibility suicide, especially when you’ve grown up a legitimate Royals fan who could tell you every 5th starter in the team’s history.

But here’s the thing, I legitimately like how they put their team together every year. Just take the pitching staff this year. It’s hard to argue with Beckett, Lester, Penny, Smoltz, and Wakefield to man your rotation. To be able to throw in those veterans when Dice-K gets hurt, and still have a Clay Buchholz in Pawtucket. That’s just how you should do it. And then to finish off games with Ramirez and Papelbon is just not even fair. They could win the division with that pitching staff alone. God knows the Yankees aren’t even close to that level right now.This is not even mentioning all of their High OBP guys like Youkilis, and Bay, Drew, and Ellsbury. And then add slug with Big Papi. Then throw in Pedroia and Lugo’s defense, and still have Lowrie in AAA. Also, their bench alone would lead every Royals offensive statistic, and Baldelli would be their team MVP.

So here’s really the thing. It’s hard for me to admit any of this for fear of being considered a bandwagon fan. These are things that I don’t like to tell people. I’ve mentioned once or twice a little hint of all this to Tommy, but he tore me up something fierce so I knew I couldn’t tell him anymore than I had to. So I just decided to put the idea out of my mind.

But I’ve been thinking about buying a Red Sox hat for like 6 years now and I still don’t know if it’s a good idea or not. What are your thoughts? See, everybody and their brother is a Red Sox fan, but it’s mostly because it’s the trendy thing to be. And I don’t want to be thought of as “cool” or “trendy” just because the Red Sox are. I legitimately like the team purely for baseball reasons alone. I couldn’t care less what Papelbon thinks of Manny, or whatever controversy Varitek is involved in, I just flat out like the squad.

I’m the type of guy that doesn’t understand why Worcester is pronounced the way it is and I’ve never eaten a bowl of clam chowder, I thought the movie Summer Catch was a little cheesedick, but I remember as a kid always being intrigued with the Troy O’Leary, Darren Bragg, Mike Greenwell outfield. Anyways, the Royals have always sucked my whole life and I swear to God if I have to watch another game with both Tony Pena and Ryan Freel in the same lineup, I’m going to throw up.

Just so you know, if I were to buy a hat, it would be the official game “new era” with the Boston “B”. I would not even consider buying anything that looks like its old and torn up, or anything with the word Fenway or Yawkey on it, or anything that references the 1918 world series. I will also not be buying anything with a cloverleaf on it or anything resembling any shade of the color green. Your thoughts on any of this?

Oh yeah, I also really liked the movie Fever Pitch.

Aaron

State of the Royals

I've been a fan of the Royals for going on 18 years now. I remember first becoming aware of the Royals back in 1992 at the ripe young age of 9 years old. 1992 was a different time and place in the world. The United States won a war in Iraq. Everybody wore neon clothing. The country was rejuvenated by a hansom young politician from Arkansas. Seattle was the epicenter of musical innovation. The USA Dream Team ruled international competition. "Cheers" was the number one show on television....and the Kansas City Royals became my team. For 18 brutal years, I've watched historically bad baseball. During that period of time The Royals have compiled a God awful record 1211-1557 which equates to a winning percentage of .437. Only 3 of those 18 years resulted in winning records. 1993, 1994, and 2003. That being said, is it too much to ask for a 26 year old man to long for a winning club? Haven't I suffered enough?

The question itself is debatable. Afterall its been exactly 100 years since the Cubs won a World Series. The Boston Red Sox waited some 80 years in between titles. But even both of those teams had some good squads in their seemingly indefinite periods of darkness. The Royals, however, have found every possible way to lose imaginable. They've had overweight First Baseman get hit in the back wandering in the middle of the infield by a throw from the outfield to homeplate. The same First Baseman got stuck between the tarp and the wall. As well as accidentally rifle a ball into the pitcher's face....And he was known as a pretty good defender.

I've seen a Center Fielder climb the wall to rob a potential home run, only to watch the ball drop harmlessly into the field of play 15 feet in front of the wall.

I've seen 2 Outfielders stare at each other, thinking that the other one was supposed to catch the 3rd out in an inning as each of them trotted their way into the dug out. Coincidentally, that ball dropped in between them too.

I've seen a player bat out of order to start the game. Mind you, this is the major leagues and the lineup card is directly in front of the entire world on the giant scoreboard.

I've seen a General Manager sign a player not claimed by any other team, and call that player a legitimate 5-tool talent. He was released by the end of the year.

I've seen the same General Manager sign a competitive male softball pitcher. In case you weren't aware, softball pitchers throw the ball underhand.

And then there were the bad trades. Who could forget Jermaine Dye for Nefei Perez? Johnny Damon for Roberto Hernandez? Carlos Beltran for John Buck and Mark Teahen?

I've seen player after player neglect to sign with the Royals, and after the one and only player we legitimately locked up, Mike Sweeney, well he went on to be constantly hurt 4 years out of his 5 year contract.

I remember a team in 2000 that led the league in hitting, but was last in the league in pitching. And then there's this year, where the Royals are in the top 3 in pitching, and last in hitting.

Oh we've had our share of the gritty players too. There's enough of them to fill out a laundry list. Ross Gload, Tony Graffanino, Joe McEwing, Brent Mayne, Mark Grudzielanek, Scott Pose, Todd Dunwoody, Willie Bloomquist, and now Ryan Freel. We may be last in the league in losses, but we're first in grit!

How about all of our first round busts? There's another laundry list. I'll give it a shot: Jeff Granger, Jim Pittsley, Dee Brown, Dan Reichart, Kyle Snider, Mike Stodolka, Chris Lubanski, Colt Griffin, Jeff Austin, Juan LeBraun. You could field an entire pitching staff with those never weres!

So this ever so gingerly leads me into this year. So far, its been a year of disappointment. A year of injuries, and a year of never ending controversy. Recently, the Royals front office threatened to ban a popular blogger and Baseball Prospectus writer, just because they didn't like what he had to say about the training staff. I say it's fair game when you've had a questionable dose of questionable diagnoses. From Coco Crisp, to Mike Aviles, to Joakim Soria, to Alex Gordon. It's the same to me.

What I don't understand is that the Royals have 3 major national writers as fans of this God forsaken team, and they don't even acknowledge it. We're darn lucky to call Joe Posnanski, Rany Jazerili, and Rob Neyer fans. And we should feel appreciative that they pay attention to us instead of those east coast teams. Its an un-tapped treasure for sure. This is where the Red Sox got it right when they hired Bill James. They knew enough about his work to create a position for him, and have celebrated 2 world championships because of it. The Royals would only be so lucky to do the same.

So here we are, in the middle of summer, still hoping, still waiting, still frustrated. Just when things look up, they go south in a big hurry. Just this season alone, they've turned a division leading 18-11 record into a 35-47 fall into the cellar. They're sitting quite comfortably into the abyss of the American League Central. And Rightfully so too.

So where do we go from here? Former manager Buddy Bell said it best when he stated, "It can always get worse." Well, he's right. It sure can always get worse, and I'm afraid we haven't seen the bottom drop out yet.

With 79 games to play the Royals have their work cut out for them. Its a long road to the top, but it's also a longer road to the bottom. Knowing the Royals, they'll surely find a shortcut.

Another Disco question

I've spoken before how I've become a pretty huge fan of Chris Disco Hayes. Recently he was promoted from AA NW Arkansas to AAA Omaha. I've since written in to ask him a question, which I'll post here:

How old is too old to wear your hat backwards? I've heard that the general consensus is 27 yrs old. But I've also heard that trucker hats with velcro or snaps can be alloted an age much younger than that. Likewise, flex-fits can be worn backwards past 27 but there's just an overall confusion on the entire matter. Please clarify for the masses before the hysteria consumes us all.

Aaron D.
Kansas City, MO

Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. I'm willing to bet you're 28 and still trying to pull off those dorky trucker hats with white mesh and random logos that sit like five feet up off your head aren't you? Just kidding. :) It's a good thing you asked this question when I was responding because unless Disco was a fashionista (last time I checked I'm pretty sure Disco only had tapered jeans and old man sweaters hanging in his closet before he met me), I doubt he'd be able to give you any kind of sound and up-to-date fashion advice.How old is too old to wear your hat backwards? I'm pretty sure if you're not younger than 9 years old, you're too old to wear it backwards (unless of course you're a catcher) (or a ridiculously hot guy with a chiseled face and a little bit of scruff) (or my husband in the off-season when he's allowed to have any facial hair). Well, my hypothesis failed me. My plan was to show you pictures of the hottest of the hot guys out there who pull off backwards caps like exotic dancers pull off their clothes, but I've found my hypothesis to be invalid. It seems all the hotty-hot-hots are so hot they don't ever go out with a backwards hat, let alone any kind of disguise covering their gorgeous faces. For instance, I scoured the internet and didn't find any of these gems with a backwards cap of any kind.
So if you're average looking without amazing hair and impeccable looks like the fellas pictured above (Utley, Hayes, Beckham, Hayes), you can wear a hat at any age. And if for some reason you're blessed enough with a movie star face, you can wear whatever you want, whenever you want. Got that? Man, I'm getting myself all worked up over here with all these hotties, two of them being my ridiculously good looking husband, I've lost my thought process. Where was I?Ah. fitted hats. Yea, you know, I guess you can wear them as long as they aren't too tight so they don't leave a ring around your head. I actually like guys in ball caps, so disregard everything I said above and dress up your head to your hearts desire. (Random side note: A while back before I met Disco, I threw a "Dress Your Head" party... you basically had to do something fun from the neck up. We had everything from pink wigs, to chicken hats, to one guy wearing ah sock. Yea, 'parently he didn't get the memo.)Back to being serious for a second. Anyone can pull off pretty much anything if they're confident. Confidence rises above all trends of what to and what not to wear. If you're trying to pull off a rad Hurley trucker hat as long as you carry yourself with confidence (not cockiness, which is easily discoverable) you're going to look great. Just one cardinal rule, unrelated to hats. Whatever you do, if you're under the age of 55, please do NOT be seen in public wearing socks with your sandals. Capeche?

Wasted Thoughts from a sober mind

Dr. Salmon, I wanted to post a little response to your last post. I agree mostly with what you've got to say, but I think its worth taking a look at a little more deeper. Afterall, as of 2:38am, we've had 111 visitors to the blog. Some had stayed for more than 15 seconds, and its time we gave them their money's worth.

I've thought alot lately about what kind of direction I'm heading in, where I'm going, and what I'll do when I get there. You're right, the day you're born into this world, is the day you start dying. Its kind of a sick view on reality, but true nonetheless. Sometimes I ask myself questions like, why are we here? What's the point to all of this? Those are the kind of questions that can leave a man pondering for hours. But I think the truth of the matter is that the reason and purpose we are on this earth is to leave it just a little bit better than we found it. If we can live our lives treating others how we'd like to be treated, well then I'd say that the good Lord will have a few nice things to say about us once we leave our celestial bodies. And really, I think that this is the simpilist ways we can comprehend our existence within the earth plane.

One thing I've noticed about a good friendship is that its pretty darn hard to get rid of. In other words, if you find a person that you relate to, share and bond with, then its darn near impossible to terminate it, short of sleeping with your friend's wife...But I'll be willing to bet that there's plenty of friends out there that would be willing to hand their wife over to their friend, just so they could get a couple of good night's sleep....But really, that's kind of beside the point I'm trying to get at.

It is true, however, that a good friend will be with you no matter what, through thick and thin. Sunshiny days as well as cloudy ones. Possibly a dry drizzle or two. And yes, there will be times when a good friend will disappoint you, but afterall we all are flawed human beings.

The family dynamic is a bit different. Afterall they're really the friends that you didn't choose. But I think the bond is still the same. Family has the ability to disappoint just as the friend can, the difference is you're forced to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with them. If you don't, well then Mom will be pissed. And God knows, we don't wanna piss Mom off.

I consider myself a relatively private person. I don't express myself particularly well through face-to-face interaction. This is not to say that I'm a reclusive hermit by any means, its just that sometimes I feel uncomfortable dealing with people that are outside of my comfort zone. Does this make me a flawed human being? Well, no I don't really think so...But of course, a potential career in sales might be out the window! ha!

But this is why I think that this forum of blogging is so appealing to me. It allows both me and you Dr. Salmon, to interact with each other, maybe share a couple of our 'off the wall' ideas to a few people, and maybe forge a couple of relationships with some other people that we wouldn't normally interact with all along the way.

The Internet is a unique medium, insofar as it allows us to truly be ourselves. No matter how sick one's mind works, its a place where we can go to get away from it all. And there's just something endearing about that to me. Salmon, I've known you now for going on 11 years and I'd have to say that I know you pretty well.

Alot of things we agree upon, and yet there are still alot of things we don't. That's what makes this blog a cool place to express each other's ideas and opinions. I consider this blog to be a place where anything and everything goes. I have no qualms about anything, and I know you don't either. If somebody out there wants to say that I'm a cocksucker. Well then I say go for it! At least you say what's on your mind, and I actually like the cruel reality of the situation. This world is filled with kiss asses, and suck-ups, and corporate drones that are afraid of pissing off the wrong person, and I feel like this blog is a place where I can be myself, without any consequence. To me, the only real consequence of not speaking your mind is the horrible feeling you get within the pit of your belly when you know you aren't being true to yourself.

Anyways, this is just a couple of wasted thoughts, from a guy just like any other guy out there in their mid-20's trying to find their way in the world. I would encourage anybody who reads this to give us a shout out, and tell us what's on your mind. Give us the gory details...As Fraiser would say, "The doctor is in!"

if you dont have anything nice to say dont sayanything at all

HELLO WORLD, the salmon here to report on how things are going. sorry i havent posted in a while but i havent had anything nice or positive to say and, Dr. Ai-un and i started this with the want to post our out of the box ideas, rant about life and so on. i felt my past few blogs havent bean a good representation of my self. see its true i really dont like adults this includes myself but maybe through the idiotic things i say others might see faults in themselves they want to change.

life is all one big joke when you think about it from the moment you are born the odds are against you, you are going to have to pay taxes and you will die, a friend or family member will betray you, a loved one or pet will die, at point you wont have any money, this is the truth.

now despite that there is some great things in life i feel i should point out too. the sun will shine your friends will be your friends money will come and go.

what i am trying to say is if you focus on the bad thats all you will see. but step back once and a while and you will see there is so much good. i dont mean look at life like a pacifistic pussy. but like a normal person with normal things.

doing this will help i promise

well thats all for now

the salmon
out

Better get to know a ballpark---Arvest Ballpark

Ladies and gentleman. Its time now for part 2 of our 764 part series of "Better get to know a Ballpark." This one is another minor league addition, and I've got to say, it was a nice little experience for me.

Arvest Ballpark is located in Springdale, Arkansas and is home to the Northwest Arkansas Naturals, the AA affiliate of the Kansas City Royals. It's a place within the game where dreams are crushed and surprises emerge. Its a plethora of physical and mental emotions surrounding the typical AA ballplayer that can not be understood, nor would you want to understand. The ballpark is a mere 7 to 8 minutes (depending on traffic) from the Wal-Mart world headquarters in Bentonville. As you know, I've previously had a couple of things to say about Wal-Mart. But I digress. Springdale is apart of the metropolitan 4 city region that encompasses Northwest Arkansas. Bentonville, Fayetteville, Rogers, and Sprindale make up the metropolis. It is one of the nation's fastest growing regions and has an overall population of around 500,000. When put together, its size is similar to the city of Milwaukee. (Milwaukee, by the way, is in fact an indian name pronounced "mil-e-wah-que" which is Algonquin for the "good land." As Alice Cooper famously quoted in the movie "Wayne's World. Another interesting sidenote stated by Alice Cooper was that Milwaukee has had its share of French missionaries and explorers dating all the way back to the 16th century.)

But this isn't a post about Milwaukee. We're talking about Arkansas. Specifically the Northwest Region. It's a college town, a vacation destination, a region with a multi-billion dollar retail headquarters, a chicken raising haven, and last but not least, home to Double A baseball.

Before I get into the baseball, I'd like to say a few words about the chicken industry. Tyson foods calls Sprindale its home and claims to be the world's largest processor and marketer of all things chicken. And who can forget the episode of Seinfeld when the Yankees traded George to Tyson for some kind of fermented chicken drink. 15 years later, there's no denying that George would've loved the region, and possibly retired here very comfortably. I also want to give a shoutout to a little place called AQ Chicken. Possibly the best fried chicken this side of Kentucky. According to multiple pictures on the wall, former President Bill Clinton was a frequent visitor. I had a delicious variety platter of barbeque, lemon, and fried chicken, that is probably the best I have ever tasted.

Anyways, in the summer of 2006, it was decided upon by the powers that be, that the AA affiliate of the Kansas City Royals, then known as the Wichita Wranglers would be moving into a brand new state of the art minor league facility in Sprindale, Arkansas. Coincidentally, a mere short drive from Royals owner, David Glass's personal home. Hmm, I wonder if he had a hand in this? Well, anyways the attendance in Wichita had been suffering, and the move to Sprindale was in full effect. A new ballpark was built and opened for the 2008 season.

The ballpark itself is a quaint facility, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, adjacent to a few cow pastures, and rolling meadows. The nearest account of any civilization is a mere 1 1/2 miles away. Strategically placed signs along the road lead us gently into our destination. And boy was it a sight! It was all any minor league fan could ask for. Cheap beer, and affordable hot dogs! Before the game, I wandered ambiously through the complex and came across a booth of sorts. In it were 2 relief pitchers willifully signing some autographs for the kiddos. The kids were not impressed, and from the looks of the pitchers, they weren't either. But nevertheless, they trudged through their 30 minute signing session to make it out alive.

The game was decent. This particular evening saw the Naturals facing the Little Rock Travelers, AA team of the Anaheim Angels of Los Angeles of California of the United States of America. After a few nervous errors in the first inning by the shortstop and third baseman, the Naturals settled down to post a 16-5 victory. I even got to see a real live minor league rehab assignment! Engaging stuff, let me tell ya!

To be honest, I didn't really move around much during the game, so I didn't really see much of the park, and quite honestly I'm probably not really that qualified to give a detailed review of the stadium. So in conclusion, one must ask, what did we really learn here? The answer to that question could possibly summed up into on simple sentence. And that sentence is...Wal-Mart controls the world, and possibly your local minor league team. Mass hysteria continues to consume us.

To wear your hat backwards? Or not...that is the question

I've been contemplating this question for a good 36 hours. I was always told that the cut-off date for when you become too old to wear your hat backwards was always 27 years of age. Nobody wants to see the douche bag 40 year old trying to act like he's a cool 19 again. It's not a pretty sight. And nothing good could ever come out of it. It's always been my opinion that this was understood worldwide, and it encompassed the entire genre of hat styles. Speaking to the Salmon, this is not the case.

He claims that the cut-off age for a flex fit is 18. Snap or velcro 23, and you are never too old to wear a gameday hat backwards as long as it fits in appropriate times and circumstances. I'd say, its probably not a good idea to wear your fitted Royals hat backwards to your grandma's funeral. Mowing the grass...yes. Mowing your girlfriend...no.

So the Salmon basically states for us that different hats calls for different situations. We are both 26 years old, and can recall a time in high school where it was hip to wear a trucker hat backwards. Sometimes your hair would come through the opening above the snap. This was just the way it was, and it was a time before the trucker hat went mainstream again. I can totally respect that era. But I don't respect it now. Since that period of time, the trucker hat has become a symbol of chic, that sickens me. They are now ball game give aways, and a person can't go a month now without seeing some prissy chick in a John Deere trucker hat. Let me tell you, I know real people that wear John Deere hats for real purposes. They wear them to pay homage to the tractor and all that it has provided for them in their daily lives. 17 year old suburban chicks have no idea.

I'm not entirely sure when the velcro came into existence, and to tell you the truth, I really don't want to find out. I assume it was either developed for cost cutting measures, or enough people complained that the snaps varied too much in between. Like for instance, 6 snaps was too tight, but 7 snaps was too loose. Hence the velcro made for more of a customization fitting for your head. A good idea in theory, but stupid if you want to wear it backwards. And in Salmon's case, if you even think about wearing it past 23, you're a major douche bag.

I myself recently purchased a vintage fitted Kansas City A's hat, circa 1955. And I wear it proudly. As I said earlier, I'm 26 and to my knowledge before yesterday, I was under the assumption that I had less than 1 year to wear my A's hat backwards proudly. Thanks to Salmon and all his wisdom, I will be able to continue past the dubious age of 27, and hopefully the kid's won't make fun of me behind my back. If they do, I'll just make fun of their straight-billed crooked cap, hip-hop wannabe ways and get on with my life.

The Wal-Martization of Society

Salmon, you know what I love about this country? -Wal-Mart. I love how we can leisurely stroll through any store in this country and instantly feel better about ourselves. Because lets face it, if you end up feeling worse about yourself, then you've got some real problems. Wal-Mart's got it all. You want a big tupperware container to store all of your shit? Wal-Mart's got it! You want a knock-off Zack Greinke shirt? Wal-Mart's got it! You've only got $5 bucks in your pocket and you've been dying to see the movie Just Married- Well guess what? Wal-Mart's got that too!

They are the world's largest retailer, that's causing the world to be just a little bit worse place to live. I'm an educated man. I've got a degree in Economics from the University of Missouri. Guess what? Wal-Mart money runs that school! Bet people didn't know that? There's a huge mural of Sam Walton right there in the Business school's foyer. Incidentally, its right next to the bathroom. Speaking of Sam Walton, I've done a bit of studying about him. I've read his autobiography. He was raised of humble beginnings in Columbia, Missouri graduated from college and made his way in the world. One hostile takeover of small town at a time. I guess you've got to give it to the guy. He had sharp business instinct, and slowly built his brand into world recognition. But what have we learned from this? What is the endgame?

I've got a few thoughts on that. Recently, I was assigned a homework assignment in one of my MBA business law classes to discuss the ethical nature of the Debbie Shank v. Wal-Mart Missouri Supreme Court case. If any of you mouthbreathers don't have a clue what I'm talking about, here's a synopsis: Debbie Shanks was a Wal-Mart employee in Eastern Missouri when she was severely injured in a car accident derived from a collision with a semi-tractor truck. Medical expenses exceeded $420,000. The Wal-Mart Health and wellness plan fully covered all of her doctor bills. Shanks' injuries have left her without the ability to work or ever live a normal life again. In the meantime, Shanks sued the semi-truck company and eventually settled for $700,000. This money was put into a trust which pays for Shanks' nursing care needs. All is settled right? -Nope. Wal-Mart comes in and files suit against the Shanks in hopes of recovering the $420,000 that was provided by Wal-Mart by the company's own health plan. The move was a legal maneuver by the company and as a result the court's decision was in favor of Wal-Mart for the Shanks to repay the medical expense money. The Shanks appealed the decision and lost that battle too.

One would ask, how much money does Wal-Mart need? How much is enough? Was it ethically right to go after a mentally disabled former employee? Probably not. But was it legal? Yes it was. Media pressure ascended down upon Wal-Mart executives and they eventually dropped the case, but its just another example of the hawk-like nature of greedy corporate CEO's.

We all know about how Wal-Mart puts pressure on their suppliers to constantly lower their prices, which will in-turn cause Wal-Mart to sell at lower than market prices to the consumer. This causes Wal-Mart to hire and employ labor for right around minimum wage level. Multiply that by hundreds of thousands of worldwide employment, and you've got a global economic meltdown on your hands. Is this what Sam Walton envisioned? Probably not, but its no doubt that he laid the groundwork for this outcome to take place.

I recently visited the Wal-Mart headquarters and visitor's center in Bentonville, Arkansas on my way to a baseball game. I took note at the simplicity of the original headquarters. Placed innocently in a small town square, adjacent to a statue of a confederate soldier. It was tough for me to imagine global domination from such a quaint beginning. -But then as the old saying goes. Rome wasn't built in a day- and neither was Wal-Mart.

Sam Walton was truly a pioneer of the retail business. Many, many books and articles have been written in his prowess. In many ways he is revered upon as an innovator. In other ways he's jeered upon as his successors have preyed upon the little guy. He always said in his comments that, if it wasn't him- it'd just be someone else....Perhaps he's right. But what concerns many that thinks along the same lines, is that this capitalist system put this opportunity in place. I'm not considering abolishing the free market, but I do support certain reforms that reduce unemployment, especially among educated citizens. India and China are miles ahead of us in this game, and its time we follow suit.

Aaron

hello

i would like to agree with my good buddy airun, john and kate plus 8 was a good idea gone wrong, i mean think about those poor kids

well i am going to rant on how i think college is bull-shit.

i spend 200 dollars on a book and when i am done with it i got 20, i am in a speech class were this girl talks about rape and so on, and even worse it gives your average mouth breather to get a two yr degree that will some how catapult your shitty life to the moon were anything is possible, this is simply not true.

i currently have a 3.5 gpa now if that is possible there is something wrong with the school, hahaha. how ever unlike the mouth breathers and future felons of America i have already started my steps to get into a four yr school.

once i get there i can look forward to required readings 300 dollar books that i will get 20 bucks back for.

now any thing you want to know (i hate to admit this because i don't care much for the internet)but is right here at your proverbial finger tips.

if you want to look up Chinese policies you can world economics its right there, civil war in Africa, all this is on the net and it only cost you your average cable internet bill, and you don't have to deal with all the shit, plus if you get board you can look up porn and have a tug at it hahahaha.

but for real people relay on other to much and have lost the sense of independence and pride of doing something on their own.

my only hope is 2012 roles around and thats all she wrote i want to be there when the fat lady sings and maybe i can hit that shit before its all said and done

well the one bright spot is Zack Greinke is on the mound tonight the anarchy to the civilized sport of baseball

so go Royals screw college more importantly screw the college student and screw me for being a hypocrite and going to college myself


the salmon out

Jon & Kate plus hate

Hey all. I wanted to take a few moments to weigh in on the Jon and Kate hysteria that seems to be sweeping the country. If nobody knows what I'm talking about. Here's a little background. There's this couple Jon and Kate. They have 8 kids. 6 of them are sextuplets. Hilarity ensues.

What's interesting to note, is that nothing about this is interesting to note. It's the kind of drivel that encompasses our TV every night. The basic plot of the show goes like this:

Kate: Kids, lets all do an activity.

8 Kids: Yay!

Jon: I hate my life.

I'm pretty sure that conversation happens every show. How somebody can be famous for having a bunch of kids, I'll never know? I guess the population is infatuated by a little something out of the norm (I guess that's why the little people midget show is so popular). Nothing really at all goes on, except for lots of arguing and children's activities...Riveting TV right there.

But I wanted to get to something that's disconcerning to me as a man, a citizen of this country, and a television viewer. I'll just put it all out there. Kate is kind of a bitch.

Ok now, I'm not there day in and day out. I don't know all of the particulars, but from what I can tell, Kate is just a downright, run of the mill, blonde bitch. It's something I've been contemplating for days now. But lets look at the facts. Once she got famous for popping out a bunch of kids, she decided to turn her body into a plastic sack of womanly toys. Which is all fine and dandy, but there's no need for the attitude. Everybody knows you're now relatively hot now. We don't have to talk about it like you're the next Marilyn Monroe! Which brings me to my next point.

It seems as though her new attitude as given her a license to treat Jon like crap. Jon didn't ask for this. I'm very empathetic to his situation. He was just chugging along in life, suddenly his wife takes a couple of fertility pills and he's suddenly thrusted onto the national scene. Hey listen, $75K and episode would effect anyone! But I truly feel that he's grounded in ways that she's not. He knows his roots and seems like an all-around ok dude. She's hell on two plastic legs.

So now it appears that the two are splitting up. I wouldn't put it past the TV Illuminati that this is just some sort of deceptive move among the powers at be at TLC that this is some kind of hoax to build ratings. But even if it was. I wouldn't blame him if he did take off and bolt. His life turned from average middle class, to 8 kids and a bitchy wife, to paparazzi. No one at all would blame him for getting out of all of that. Of course, I'd hate to pay the child support for 8 kids.

I think the bigger issue here is attitude change by Kate. Once she got hot, she changed. It's not unlike alot of situations out there where the fat girl turns hot and suddenly she obtains an attitude. But just once in this god forsaken world we live in, I'd like to watch something where the woman remains true to herself. Where she's the same person to the end....Kinda like Pam from The Office. At least some of that is improv. Right?

sick thoughts by the Salmon

hello everyone these are some thoughts you all my have or my not have ever thought about.
1-i wounder what a dogs vagina feels like
2-every one over the age of 75 should be euthanized
3-take advantage of DNA testing when having a baby
4-if there is something wrong with your baby no shit weigh out the pros and cons of having said baby. and the quality of life of the baby(religion has nothing to do with this)
5-i like to imagine what kinda underwear all girls over 18 up to including 50 yr old milfs
6-there is no real religion just ideas that make you comfortable with living in this shit stain called earth
7-veterans that signed up after 911 should not receive ptsd benefits they knew what they were getting into (now if they get wounded they should still recive the best medical care out there) just no ptsd
8-if you agree with any of this your a dick head
9- we all die enjoy it
10-i would imagine having my prostate stimulated while getting my dick sucked with a over weight Inuit lady dances while two roosters fight and peewee herman video tapes it

those are the first ten that poped into my head more to come

Better get to know a ballpark---Rosenblatt Stadium (update)

Hey all. Aaron here. I wanted to give the community a little update on the first of our 756 part series "Better get to know a Ballpark" feature. We're one post in, and there's already some contraversy. Nice...

I mentioned in my previous post that the city of Omaha was working on tearing down old Rosenblatt and building a brand new stadium. And that is, in fact, the case...But, I'll also mention that they are not only going to build one new stadium, but two new stadiums within the metropolitan area. This is amazing stuff.

Here's how the story goes...The NCAA told the city of Omaha that they'd better get to building a new stadium, or else the College World Series would pursue other options in other cities. So this scared the city into ponying up an $126 million dollar tax levy upon the citizens to build a brand new 24,000 seat baseball venue in the downtown "Old Market" area, adjacent to the Qwest Center, which is their brand spanking new arena. What a great idea right? Build a new ballpark downtown, to generate interest in revitilization efforts inside the city itself. It's been done before, and it will be done in again and again. It's all the rage among sports venue construction, and it seems like a solid plan...But wait! There's more....

Considering the new project, one would think that the AAA Omaha Royals baseball team would move right into the new CWS venue, and take advantage of the developing situation downtown. Nope. What do they decide to do? The O-Royals decide to build their own 6,000 seat venue 10 miles south of the city of Omaha on a 300 acre piece of land in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles from civilization. The city of Papillion, Nebraska has granted $26 million in tax dollars to fund the project. The location of Pallion, Nebraska is the equivalent of BFE. I've learned that the Pacific Coast League was not a huge fan of the Omaha Royals yearly 17 game roadtrip in the middle of June, just to accomodate the CWS. So they decided to go about it their own way. An honorable decision, if it wasn't so ridiculously planned.

From what I can tell, the citizens of the entire metropolitan area are PISSED at these developments, and its no wonder why. Rosenblatt, albeit old, is intimate, and some consider it the Fenway Park of the Pacific Coast League. The old stadium is scheduled to be demolished in the summer of 2011, and in its place the Omaha Zoo will create more parking, and probably a couple more monkey exhibits. If you're monkey lover, this is you're kinda deal. Good on ya, monkey lover! Can't wait to visit Omaha real soon.

well hello everyone

i just want to say hello world. so hello. how is everyone doing, i dont think people ask each other that enough. so hello world, drop me a line by responding to our blog if you just want to get a little off your chest.

my thoughts

well my life is good but there are two people in this world, those who have and those who dont. i have Megan and that's all i really need, how ever it would be nice to hve some stuff to. mt example is this, on e-bay there was this beautiful 1975 bmw motorcycle it was only 1500.00. and i couldn't bid on it even if i wanted to. see the thing is no one will give me a job i collect a small amount of disability and have to go to school full time to collect my gi bill money to make ends meet.

now see the thing is i don't need this bike i want it and it is justifiable. my truck gets 10mph in the city and a bike would be way easier to pa for and afford to put gas in and get around on.
i don't want to sound like i am ungrateful, i have Megan a roof over my head and food to eat, i am in good shape so life is ok.
but heres the thing i went to war for this peace of sit country and cant get a lone for a bike because of debt i raked up when i thought i was going to be in the service my hole life. well after getting other peoples blood in my mouth and listening to them scream in pure agony i thought i would be best to get out before i pulled a Rambo.
see i also understand a lot of vets make it good for them and that's not sarcasm. but i seam to be having trouble.
unfortunately "i ant no senators son" i didn't have money for school my pops (god bless him) cant help with anything other than advice. i would not trade that for the world i love my dad i wouldn't ant other way. i am just saying every now and then i want. does that make me wrong

The "fuck yeah" moment

I'd like to discuss something I refer to as the "fuck yeah" moment in life. Its hard to explain, but I'll try and do my best. The Fuck Yeah moment is the moment of anticipation for future awesome moments. It's a pre-celebratory moment, if you will, that leads directly into the main event.

An example: You're at a concert. Milling around the room, talking to your neighbors just right before the band goes on stage. You just grabbed a beer at the concession stand and you're yip yapping back and forth with your group talking about the last time you seen the band play and how they're getting old now, but they still know how to rock...And then it happens. The lights go dark! The band is just about to unleash awesomeness unto which you will not be able to comprehend. You know its coming, and you can't take it anymore. The lead Guitarist is noodling his way until that moment when it seems like a freight train hits you right in the face..."Fuck Yeah," you yell as the lead singer belts out the opening line....That's a fuck yeah moment.

An example: In baseball, the starting pitcher for the nights game begins his night's initial work in the bullpen 25 minutes before the scheduled first pitch. He plays long toss with the catcher, until he feels comfortable enough to take the rubber in the bullpen. There he works on his various pitches that he plans on using for the night. He'll throw a variety of fastballs, change-ups, breaking balls, until he's loose, and ready for the game to start. The jumbotron is announcing the starting lineups and bad 80's metal plays in the background. The starting pitcher has finished his final warm-up tosses and is ready to take the long trot down the right field line into the infield. But before he does so, he gathers among the other pitchers in the bullpen and the starting catcher, and they all share a moment together. Its an anticipated moment that leads the group into nexus of emotions for the coming evening..."Fuck Yeah," someone yells in the crowd adjacent to the bullpen. "Go get 'em tonight" The pitcher acknowledges the well-wishers and jogs into the game.

*****

There are many "fuck yeah" moments in life, and these are just a couple of them. Its important to remember these as they happen, because they are the little things in this world, that makes this life worth living.

They call him Disco because he throws in the 70's...

I wanted to talk a little about a pitcher the Royals have in their minor league system playing for the NW Arkansas Naturals. His name is Chris Hayes, and he's a very interesting study to say the least. By his own admission, he throws underhanded like a girl, barely hits 74mph with his fastball, and has a change-up that needs an advanced degree in astro-physics to understand. He's truly a unique individual...Oh and by the way, he's got a degree in Computer Science from Northwestern. He's such a smart dude that people are now asking him for computer technical support questions on his blog. How he balances out answering tech support questions and closing for the NW Arkansas Naturals, all the while supporting a sub 2 ERA, I'll never understand.

He's gotta great blog you can check out, and I advise all of you to do so. Many people smarter than myself, including Rany Jazayerli, have broken down his statistics and physical make-up and potential as a Royals prospect so I won't get into that here...but I thought I'd reprint a question I asked him recently regarding the post-game celebratory high-five following a win:

*********

Could you explain to me the anatomy of the post-game celebratory high five. It seems to me that 2 lines somehow form in what appears to be in perfect conjunction with one another. Both lines dutifully high five one another while the pitcher inadvertently gets his butt slapped. What I don't understand is who and how do the players decide to get in which line? What happens if you get in the wrong line, and are there any consequences?

Aaron D., Kansas City, MO


Walk-off wins are the only wins that don't have a prescribed choreography (I wanted to use the term "blocking" here instead but didn't because I figured my fan-base didn't overlap with theater fans...I've made myself laugh now in proofreading that I ironically settled on "choreography"). Walk-offs are also the wins that make relief pitchers feel really awkward. It's getting off topic, but next time you get the opportunity to see a walk-off win, just watch the relievers and enjoy their awkwardness. They are way late to the party and don't really know how much jumping is enough, yet not too much.

Back on topic. For all non-walk-offs, the pitcher and catcher will meet halfway between the mound and the plate and shake hands. The rest of the fielders who were in the game will congregate just behind second base and congratulate each other and make small talk and then form a line and begin walking towards the mound from second base. The pitcher and catcher will then walk towards the mound from home plate. The bench players will join behind the pitcher and catcher in walking away from home towards the mound in a line. As the two lines meet, the players will high five, knock knuckles, side bump, or execute a hand shake all their own. Once the line moving away from home gets to the end of the line moving towards home, they do an about-face and now become part of the line moving towards home (think trumpet line in a marching band). The manager and a few of his coaches will stay at the foul line and await all the players to eventually make their way back towards the dugout. The fielders who started the line in from second base will make it to the manager first and then the rest will eventually fall in line.

"Inadvertent" butt slaps are a foreign concept to me as all butt slaps I have been a part of (both as slapper and slappee) have been executed knowingly. And consequences for entering the wrong line would probably be pretty severe from both your team and the winning team if you shook off the loss quickly enough to join the butt slap line of the team who just beat you.

Disco Chris Hayes

we live in shit

well hello everyone this is the salmon here reporting on whats going on in my world. i attend a small college for right now until i feel confident to go to a real four year school (that moment is rapidly approaching). like my buddy aaron i to have noticed the decline in the genetic make up of my small town and i noticed this on the bus to school, perel doesn't make enough hand sanitizer for that 20 min journey.

muncie is a small town formally and maybe still known as little chicago. it is divided into what i can tell south side, country, and ghetto.

the bus to school travels right through the heart of the south side home to mouth breathers, 15yr old moms and white dude that listen to rap real loud and where sideways Yankee hates, the south side of town used to be known as shed town but now its a peace of crap the city of muncie openly built a round about to divide the rest of the city from the south side and no one cared.

on the bus i have smelt and heard my fair share of nastiness that would shock the most hardened of individuals. example my boy friend used to beat me so my dad came over with a gun and ran him off, the same lady fallowed that gem of a story by saying she likes to fuck and it doesn't matter how much because she cant have babys. she also talked about how she got caught stealing discount shampoo, and said next time she will steal the real stuff. thats one lady the other stuff i heard is to bad to even talk about

whats causing this decline in brain cells across America?
i dont know is it Rock of Love, i love money. TV could be the big culprit
or is it there is no competition for survival anymore people get away on their looks, or left alone by they lack there of.

the world needs to introduce a new predator, maybe North Korea should launch a Nuclear rocket right up our ass and force us to start over again


well thats all for now my class is starting

the salmon

out