I tweet, which
at my age makes about as much sense as skateboarding. The other week I said something about Bryce
Harper and Daniel Palka, to the effect that Harper wants a boatload of money to
play on the South Side while Palka is head over heels happy to be a member of
the White Sox. Either I overestimated
the number of Palka fans out there or underestimated the number of people
willing to have the Sox win at all costs.
In tweet-land,
you don’t say, “I disagree, my dear fellow.”
It’s more along the lines of “You’re a f****n’ moron so stupid it’s a
wonder you don’t choke on your own spit.”
My daughter tells me it doesn’t matter what people say, so long as
they’re reading me at all. If only it
felt that way.
But I stick by
the essence of my tweet—Harper, and for that matter fellow free agent Manny
Machado have no intention of coming to the Sox, unless Jerry Reinsdorf is the
only owner willing to empty out his money bin, and even then they might take
one-year deals to try their luck again next year. There’s nothing wrong with that, other than
emphasizing what a business baseball is.
Palka, on the
other hand, is all about the joy of playing the game. Clare follows him on Twitter (alas, he does
not appear to be among my followers), and I just took a quick look at some of
his tweets, including a shoutout to Poland on its 100th birthday; a
retweet of Pope Francis on the need for mercy; and a picture of him with Sister
Mary Jo Sobieck, the nun who threw an opening-pitch strike from the rubber, this
after bouncing the ball off her bicep.
And how much
would a free agent have to be paid to provide that kind of twitter account?
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