Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Ruffling Feathers


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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