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About Jon
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1) using profanity or any euphemisms for profanity
2) personally attacking other commenters
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5) discussing politics
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I'm Casting Off Material Desires, And I'm Loving It!
2003-12-19 09:03
by Jon Weisman

I get handed the phone ...

Hi, Dad.

--Are you in the middle of dinner?

I'm microwaving, if that counts.

--Well, I have a question for you.


--What are the Dodgers going to do for players?

Microwave ticks down: 9, 8, 7...

--Well, call me back when you have an answer.

Look, the bright side is, when you are rock bottom offensively at first base, second base and shortstop and near the bottom at third base, left field and center field, well, just think how easy it would be for Bart Simpson to raise his grade-point average.

The Dodgers may or may not get an A ballplayer, but some Bs could help nicely, and even the Cs like Juan Encarnacion won't necessarily hurt.

There are guys out there. They just may not be the guys that excite you. And in the end, they may not be the guys that give the Dodgers a title - even though those guys are out there.

I find myself in a sanguine mood this morning. After being exhausted by rumor after rumor, I find myself, without even trying, just thinking about the game. I find myself thinking about how much I like going to Dodger Stadium, no matter who is wearing the Dodger whites.

This may not be much consolation to those of you who aren't so peculiarly addled today, who can't understand why (re)building the Dodger offense is a shaky hand wavering on whether to cut the red or blue wire.

I don't know. I guess today, with my dad's question, I find myself forced to look at the positive. I find myself willing to embrace the ascetic. I find myself willing to suffer with Cesar Izturis' quest for a .300 on-base percentage, with Adrian Beltre's attempted escape from the poisoned Fountain of Youth, with good guy Dave Roberts attempting to show that it is possible to deliver only 13 extra base hits in 440 plate appearances. It's liberating.

The holidays are coming. I'm tired of fighting, tired of railing. For the time being, however short, I'd rather accept. Just accept. And I'll hope to be pleasantly surprised, though I won't expect it.

I know it's denial. I feel strangely like Jerry Maguire in the war room after he's been fired, with all the other agents regarding him with car-wreck pity.

But I just don't have it in me to be angry today. Ultimately, baseball is still my favorite game, and that's where I'm at.

I wish I could go to a game right now.

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