Somehow, it just seems so appropriate today. Well, to me, at least.
Of course, I still cry when I hear Styx’s “Don’t Let It End”—so make of that what you will. From Kenny Rogers and Don Schlitz, “The Greatest” (1999):
Little Boy, in a baseball hat
Stands in the field with his ball and bat
Says “I am the greatest player of them all”—
Puts his bat on his shoulder and he tosses up his ballAnd the ball goes up and the ball comes down
Swings his bat all the way around
The world’s so still you can hear the sound
The baseball falls to the groundNow the little boy doesn’t say a word
Picks up his ball, he is undeterred
Says “I am the greatest there has ever been” —
And he grits his teeth and he tries it againAnd the ball goes up and the ball comes down
Swings his bat all the way around
The world’s so still you can hear the sound
The baseball falls to the groundHe makes no excuses, He shows no fears
He just closes his eyes and listens to the cheersLittle boy, he adjusts his hat
Picks up his ball, stares at his bat
Says “I am the greatest, the game is on the line” —
And he gives his all one last timeAnd the ball goes up like the moon so bright
Swings his bat with all his might
And the world’s so still as still can be
And the baseball falls…and that’s strike three…Now it’s supper time and his mama calls
Little boy starts home with his bat and ball
Says “I am the greatest, that is a fact,
“But even I didn’t know I could pitch like that.”Says “I am the greatest, that is understood —
“But even I didn’t know I could pitch that good…”
Enjoy your weekend, everyone. Thanks to all you who serve or have served, and thanks to all those who’ve gone before you who sacrificed for the ideals that make this nation uniquely great.
There, I said it.
FEAR MY BOURGEOIS EXCEPTIONALISM!
yes americans have an infinite capacity to convince themselves they’ve succeeded where they’ve failed.
this site exemplifies that.
bravo, and hurrah for the jingos!
Peaceful Memorial Day, Jeff. My best wishes to you and yours.
A shout out to Billy Chris, Billy, and Michael. They’re my nephews and there right now for us…and they want it that way.
Shout out to my grandfather…he died 39 years ago in a housing project right across from Atlanta Stadium. He was sunk in two submarines in WW2. He didn’t have to go back for the second one, but he did.
Shout out to my brother John, he’s retired now and the man…until Billy Chris, Billy, and Michael are done…their history is unfolding as we speak.
Last shout out, to all my navy buddies, none who had to do anthing heroic, just solid dudes (All with different views on today’s biggest issue of ‘em all).
And to Yoursitesux…your welcome from all of those heroes. Me too.
Whoops bad writing. “They’re there for us”.
yoursitesux,
It’s a pity that you need to go through life looking for a way to drag everyone down to build yourself up.
America has done more to advance the cause of freedom in the history of nations. America has done more humanitarian work than any other nation in the history of the world. America has done more to advance the cause of science in the last 50 years than any nation in the history of the world.
America has a military capable of creating destruction anywhere in the world and brining down any nation it chooses, yet it does not. It chooses its fights carefully–only using force when it appears appropriate and important.
That we are not perfect is true. That America is the greatest force for good we have ever seen in the form a nation state is also true.
I’m sorry you feel so guilty about it that you have to reduce national pride to a purgorative. I pity you in that you have to attempt to wreck the sharing of this obvious greatness to try and magnify your own smallness and validate your tiny place in the world.
Next time I see you on the street, I’ll drop a quarter in your paper cup.
Thanks, tom. I was going to attempt a slapping, but you did a fine job.
yoursitesux is exactly the kind of guy I want in the foxhole next to me. Battle notwithstanding, just think of all the great conversations when the bullets aren’t flying.
And that is EXACTLY what Memorial Day is about. I’ll take a pat on the back come Veteran’s Day – but Monday is about those that gave their last full measure of devotion.
That, and supporting our troops by ending the war. Take a picture and share it with us.
[/silky pony]
I’d love to engrave this poem by Kipling on Edwards’ forehead:
One short week-end isn’t enough time to honor those who made possible the freedom and blessings we Americans have enjoyed for the last 60-odd years. Remember them all, the living as well as the dead.
Me too. When I needed to know if the enemy still had any ammo, he’s just the one I’d want to pop his head up to look.
I’ll take the time for a beer, and to shed a tear for my old friend, Paul Russ. He’s the guy who introduced me to Science Fiction, smuggling firecrackers across the bridge from Canada, shooting frogs with pea shooters, scouts, baseball, and (later) beer. He was a very charismatic guy, and a natural leader, easily the best of the 99th Street guys of my era. Vietnam ended all of that, forever.
It is still hard to believe that he’s gone, that my children are now older than he ever was or ever would be.
I think this country is still worth it, but I wish I were more certain.
Memorial Day would be a lot better without the memories.
I am still certain.
I agree, it was easier as a more removed (?), if still somber day. Not so abstract anymore. Damn.
A Memorial Day Sentiment
The last time I played baseball, maybe 1959, I knocked off a solid two base hit, driving in two runs and winning the game for Sydenham.
Trouble is, I can never remember whether Belleville’s pitcher was Bobby Hull or Bobby Orr. It’s tough being Canadian.
Oh, yeah, Kenny Rogers was my back-up singer (and never paid me for the use of my sound system) when I did my keynote, the multi-media “In Search of America,” at the National Students Association annual do in El Paso in 1968. “Way to go light show folks,” he mocked us. Yawn.
Many thanks to my dad, 81, who fought in WWII and earned a Purple Heart, and to my granddad, who went to WWI as a kid and came back with no hair and scarred lungs after the gas got to him and suffered for the rest of his life, and to cousin Frank, who died at Pearl Harbor long before I was born but his picture was lovingly perserved and we talked about him for years to keep him “alive” in our hearts. To them and to all who risked themselves and paid a dear price in injury or death – I owe more honor than I can ever show. That’s why I get goose bumps and choke up when I hear a crowd of people sing the National Anthem.