Chasing the Blues

Dog Days Keep Barking

The PGA at Atlanta Athletic Club shows again how that once maligned, fourth-sister major, is gaining ground each year. The U.S. Open,with Congressional disgracefully weak this year, has been in freefall for at least a decade. First, the USGA folks killed the excitement with the unplayably hard courses, then swung too much the other way...The Tiger Woods-Rocco Mediate playoff in 2008 was the last memorable open.... Once the PGA had inferior courses, but now the Atlanta Athletics Club proved a much more challenging championship test than Congressional. ...The USGA held the open once at the AAC, then never again, while the PGA has held four championships there. What doesn't the USGA come back?

...Gee, hooked on the Braves again. The Giants-Braves series was a good one. Any lover of good pitching feels sympathy with Tim Lincecum, who has received no runs at all in 10 games this year. He must feel like a great football defense that keeps seeing its quarterback throw interceptions. ..Baseball, at least in the National League, has really shifted to a pitching-dominated game in which one or two runs is usually good enough to win. Baseball dinosaurs like me might like it, but pitching duels likely bore the videogame generation. No doubt baseball can be a tedious event; the other day I grew irritated when a pitcher kept looking around at a baserunner, etc. A football team would have run three plays and an NBA team scored three goals in the time it took him to at last throw a pitch.

..I'm beginning to warm up to Freddi Gonzales as manager, but I still find his batting order screwy. I like Brian McCann, and he's a good hitter, but I don't see him as No. 3. And, while Constanza's been a spark, I'd like to see Heyward playing everyday, no matter how badly he's been going.

...The GOP is screaming about Obama vacationing in Martha's Vineyard. He would be much closer to the people if only he had his own ranch in Texas. ...Government can't create jobs, the conservatives say. The old Tammany Hall Tweed gang, as well as Southern populists like Huey Long, did pretty well in crearing jobs. 

August, the Dog Days, or is that old man wolf howling at the door?

Another long assumed certainty crumbles: the U.S. no longer has a AAA credit rating. Chatterers on CNN say don't worry, it really means nothing. The Wizard of Oz scenario once more; pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.

Nothing better to do while waiting for the Apocalypse and or the start of college football season than to deeply engage with the Braves. Now they are playing at the Mets' Citi field. Although the Mets are severely diminished, another victim of the financial crash except for the splendid Reyes, the Braves playing there always seems more like real baseball than when they're playing against a team like the Arizona Diamondbacks, which could disappear tomorrow and I wouldn't care. New York among other things means baseball to me. 

Of course, watching the Braves on TV pushes my tolerance for the cornball announcer Chip Caray, who shows little of the talent for low-rent humor of his dad, Skip, or his grandad, Harry. Recently, I escaped Chip by listening to the Braves on the radio with Don Sutton and whoever his partner is. Sutton and pal give more insightful analysis and a more pointed, adult humor. But, I like to watch on TV. Perhaps I'll turn down the sound and listen to the radio.

Last night, the Braves at last bested the Mets behind Dan Uggla's amazing revival. The Braves broke through when the Mets removed their young knuckleballer R.A. Dickey, one of the traditionalists who wears his uniform trousers above his stockings. Watching Dickey's knuckleballs, I wanted the pitch to be banned, like the spitball. Although I loved Phil Niekro, and even Hoyt Wilhelm, the knuckleball seems bogus, based on trickery more than skill. Dickey appears to be an OK guy, a bit nervous, but I say throw the slider, the fastball, the curve or get out of the game. Ban the knuckleball!

Even my TV viewing's lost, after the end of "Treme." I watched the three episodes of a strange little show on PBS, "Zen," which starred Rufus Sewell as a detective in Rome. I liked the depiction of the ancient, corrupt Italian city, and a luscious Italian actress who after making it as a Bond girl to Daniel Craig now does three-episode Masterpiece series shows. I'm unable to get back to "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and "Entourage," both of which I've already buried. 

So, after long days of eyeball-searing work, I ruin the old orbs even further with reading. Faulkner's "The Hamlet," a long tome on World War I, books on Huey Long, Jonathan Yardley, the New Yorker, Commonweal, the Kenyon Review, the New York Review of Books, The New York Times. At times, I'll sit down and play the piano, lately I've been practicing on "Rally Round the Flag Boys."