Perfect?

The world of sports is going nuts over Mark Buehrle's "perfect" game. On Thursday, Buehrle retired all 27 Tampa Bay batters he faced to give the White Sox a 5-0 win over the defending American League champions. Sure, no Rays were allowed on the bases, but what was so motherhumpin' perfect about? I contend that the game was quite imperfect!

Firstly, the weather. According to the National Weather Service, the 30 year average high temperature for July 23 is 84 degrees Fahrenheit (6 million degrees Celsius). Thursday's maximum temperature reading at O'Hare International Airport was 82 degrees Fahrenheit (3.141 degrees Celsius). Hardly perfect.

Next, the U.S. Cellular Field Grounds Crew. Unlike Dewayne Wise, the grounds crew really dropped the ball. Major League Baseball requires that the outfield grass be "yea high." Unfortunately, the Cell's outfield grass was "so high." Not perfect.

Hawk Harrelson has been the television voice of the White Sox since 1990. His signature strike-out call is "He gone!" Thursday did not find Harrelson at his top form. By the fourth inning, "He gone" was sounding very much like "He gun." More disturbingly, by the top of the eighth, the call had devolved to "Steve Guttenberg enjoys Chianti!" Nolo perfecto.

Ozzie Guillen can't speak English for shit. Nyet perfectski.

After the game, President Barack Obama, a huge White Sox fan, called the clubhouse to congratulate Buehrle. Obama's favorable rating is, according to Pollster.com, 57.9%. That's like 42.1% less than perfect. And, based upon research conducted by Sean Hannity, President Obama is a satanic merman voiced by the late Mel Blanc. A perfect president would be voiced by Hank Azaria.

Enough of this "perfect" game nonsense. If you want sports perfection, watch Alan Thicke play celebrity hockey.

One of My Favorites

I wrote this clash of context scene waaaaay back in 2003 when I was going through the Second City Conservatory Writing Program. It’s always been one of my favorites as it’s one of the first scenes that I wrote that I considered to be good. I also submitted this as the writing sample that got me into my first sketch comedy group, Teatro Bastardo. This scene is pretty dated now, as all of the references are to former players and the White Sox have won the World Series since then, but I think most of the jokes still work. Of course I would change a few small things now to make it even better, but sometimes you have to let the old scenes go. At least it will live on in blogfamy. I'll have a few more thoughts on this at the end, once you've read it. I hope you enjoy.

"I’M A CUBS FAN"
March 11, 2004 (Version #3)

CAST
ROY (early 20’s)
DAD (late 40’s)
MOM (late 40’s)
CHARLIE (early 20’s)
JACKIE JR. (7)
MINNIE (late 20’s)

(COMISKEY PARK. ROY, MOM, DAD, CHARLIE, JACKIE JR. and MINNIE are all sitting in the bleachers. CHARLIE is talking on a cell phone while the others watch the game.)

ROY

What a great day for a ballgame, huh, Dad? Me and Charlie just want to thank you for getting us tickets.

CHARLIE

(To Dad) Yeah, thanks Jack. (Into phone) Oh, yeah, I’m still here Uncle Mike, I’m at the ballpark.

DAD

Is he gonna talk on that thing the whole game? I tell you. Hey, nothing better than the crosstown classic, ain’t that right everybody? Except for all these Cub fans coming down here to Comiskey lookin’ like a bunch of fairies in their Sammy Sosa jersey’s. (Yelling offstage) Go back to Wrigley ya powder puffs!

MOM

Oh, Jack, watch what you say in front of little Jackie, Jr.

JACKIE JR.

Can I get some cotton candy?

(He looks around for the vendor.)

MINNIE

You know Dad, they just want to enjoy the game like everybody else.

ROY

Say, Dad, I’ve been listening to what you’re saying and I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now and--

DAD

Oh, Frank Thomas is up! (Clapping) Let’s go, Frankie! Show ‘em how you do it!

ROY

And I’m tired of living a lie. (Beat) Dad, I’m a Cubs fan. There, I said it. I’m a Cubs fan.

DAD

You’re a what?!

MOM

Oh, dear. Cover your ears, Jackie.

MINNIE

That’s so great for you, Roy!

ROY

I’ve wanted to tell you all for a long time now. I’m tired of sneaking around and lying and pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m a Cubs fan, Dad, and I hope you can accept that. (Yelling.) White Sox suck!

DAD

You better take that back! (to the field) Come on Frankie! (To Roy) What the hell’s the matter with you?

ROY

Nothing’s the matter with me, Dad. It’s just the way I am. I like rooting for the Cubs.

MOM

Oh dear, I was afraid something like this would happen ever since I found those Tribunes under your bed.

DAD

Well, this is not acceptable. This family is die-hard Sox fans. No son of mine is gonna be one of, (he can’t say it) one of those, things!

MINNIE

I just want to say, good for you little brother. I want you to know that no matter what anybody else thinks, I support you 100 percent. (She hugs ROY.) You know, my friend Joe is also a Cubs fan. Maybe you two should meet?

ROY

Thanks, sis. That means so much to me. (to the field) Oh, Frank Thomas struck out! Cool!

DAD

Stop that. And don’t you encourage him either, Minnie. That’s just wrong. It’s immoral and it’s disgusting.

MINNIE

Well Dad, we just have to learn to accept each other no matter what our baseball preference is. He was probably born that way.

ROY

Actually, there’s still a lot of debate about whether you are born a Cubs fan or whether it’s a learned behavior.

JACKIE JR.

What does it mean when Roy says he’s a Cubs fan? Do Cubs fans get cotton candy?

(He looks for the vendor.)

MOM

I’ll tell you when you’re older, dear. Now watch the game.

DAD

A Cubs fan? When the hell did this happen?

ROY

I think I always had an idea about it. I mean, even when I was young, I’d be watching the Sox, because that’s what society told me I should be doing, but deep down I knew I was always more interested in the Cubs.

DAD

Oh, jeez, Gladys, talk some sense into the boy.

MOM

Oh, dear. Really Roy, you’re our son, so whatever team you want to root for we will still love you. Just as long as that’s what you want. Are you sure that’s what you want?

ROY

Well, I had my doubts, that is, until I met Charlie.

MOM

Is Charlie a, you know?

CHARLIE

(Still on his cell phone.) Hey look everybody, my Uncle Mike says we’re on TV! Can you see us?

(Charlie waves to a camera. So does Roy.)

MOM

Oh, my.

DAD

Gladys? Do you see this? I blame you, you know. You were always soft on the boy, supporting his decision to be a bond trader, helping him find an apartment in Lincoln Park. And going to an interleague game was your idea in the first place!

MINNIE

I think that’s so great that you have someone to go the Cubs games with, Roy. I always liked Charlie.

(MINNIE gives CHARLIE a hug.)

CHARLIE

(Into phone) Yeah, they must have scored or something. Everybody’s hugging.

DAD

It’s just a phase. You’re young and you’re just trying the Cubs out. That’s what it is, ain’t it? Just a phase?

ROY

Well, maybe at first. But now it’s more than that. It’s so fun. We just hang out, drinking Old Style in the bleachers--

DAD

You sat in the bleachers at Wrigley? Never, in my 47 years--

ROY

But you don’t understand, Dad. It was like, for the first time in my life, I felt like I was with people just like me. And it was great, Dad. We got really drunk and talked on our cell phones. It was like being at the world’s biggest beer garden. We didn’t even watch the game.

(He and Charlie high five each other.)

CHARLIE

Hey, Uncle Mike says Sammy Sosa’s up! Smack it to me Sammy!

DAD

That’s it! It’s one thing for you to be Cubs fans, but I’ll be damned if you come into my ballpark and cheer for the Cubs. You’re not going to rub my nose in it!

CHARLIE

I’m sorry sir, but we’re here, we’ll cheer, and you better get used to it!

DAD

Oh, god. At least little Jackie Jr. still loves the Sox.

CHARLIE

Oh wow, Sammy got a hold of that one! Somebody catch it!

(Jackie Jr. catches it.)

JACKIE JR.

I catched it! I catched it!

ROY

Wow, Jackie, you just caught a Sammy Sosa home run ball!

(Jackie Jr. holds it for a second, then throws it back.)

DAD

No! No! We don’t throw home runs back here! That’s a stupid Wrigley Field tradition!. Look what you’ve done, you’ve started to turn your brother into a Cubs fan, too!

JACKIE JR.

If I be a Cubs fan, can I get some cotton candy?

DAD

Oh, jesus! Can it get any worse?

CHARLIE

(Hanging up his phone.) Hey, yo Roy. My Uncle got those season tickets we asked him about for football season. 45 yard line!

ROY

Oh, yeah, that’s another thing, Dad. You see, Charlie’s family is from Green Bay and . . .

BLACKOUT

I can't remember how I came up with the idea for this scene, but I got the assignment in class, and I think the original draft was written in July 2003 (a full nine months earlier than this draft which I was probably polishing up for submission to Teatro Bastardo). The Interleague MLB games were still pretty new at this point (I think) and the Crosstown Classic was pretty big in the papers and around the watercooler. I think I got the idea for it to be a "coming out" scene because this was also around the time of the annual gay pride parade.

The way I usually write scenes like this is by making a list of all the things that define each element of the clash of context . One was "coming out" and the other was "Cubs Fans vs. White Sox Fans." After I make the list I try to see if I can hit all those points in the scene. For coming out I tried to take some of the things you associate with that (i.e., the supportive mother/sister, angry father, is it born or learned behavior, some of the things people say when they come out, etc.) and then sprinkle it with stereotypical Cubs Fan references (don't watch the games, talking on cell phones, live in Lincoln Park, read the Trib, drink Old Style). I probably hit some of them a little too hard (talking on cell phones) but overall I think it comes through fairly well. My favorite line in the whole scene is the "We're here, we'll cheer, and you better get used to it!" which I hope everyone recognizes as being incredibly close to a chant that was pretty common at the pride parade years ago.

Jackie Jr. is probably my least favorite part of the sketch, but I think I needed him in the end at the climax to catch the ball and throw it back, which really sets off Dad. Side Note: I think throwing back a home run ball is one of the most idiotic things you can do when it comes to baseball. Do you know how hard it is to catch one in the first place? When I have occasionally seen this happen at U.S. Cellular Field, the thrower usually gets a nice round of boos. I think it's a great tradition at Wrigley, but let's leave it there, shall we?

I don't think this scene would work quite as good now as it would have before the Sox won the World Series in 2005. Before that both teams were historically of the same standing, and Sox fans had a much bigger complex about being second class than they do now. It could still work, but it would have to be tweaked in a big way to account for the Sox World Series win, and all the player references would have to be changed, and you'd probably have to have a steriod reference, I dunno. After all that, it still wouldn't be as funny as if you saw it before 2005.

Easter Eggs: I don't remember how I came up with the names, but Minnie was named after Minnie Minoso, a former Sox player whose number was retired in 1983. I think Roy was named after the fictional Roy Hobbs from The Natural, but if I had a do over I would change it to something more White Sox related like Nellie (Fox), Luke (Appling) or even Luis (Aparicio), all Sox players whose number has been retired. I'm sure Roy's middle name is Comiskey, though.

Opening Day! It's Opening Day!

Okay, yesterday was officially opening day, but Nat was too busy bitching about the weather to acknowledge this, and if you live in a Midwestern or Eastern city with an outdoor baseball stadium, today is opening day--unless your games get cancelled again due to cold and snow. That’s also why I refuse to go to any games in April--unless someone has a free ticket . . .

Anyway, as a life long Kansas City Royals fan, opening day is usually the most enjoyable day of the season. Hope is still alive. All of the hitters could be potential All-Stars, the pitching staff may feature a Cy Young winner, and the bullpen has yet to start blowing games left and right. Yes, opening day is the day I let myself believe the Royals are going to do it this year and go all the way (to third place in their division).

My predictions for this season:

The Royals will win more games than the White Sox.

I will still somehow manage to lose money betting on the Royals.

The Cubs will win their division and somehow blow it in the playoffs. Cubs fans will be surprised by this.

Carlos Zambrano will say a lot of stupid things, but everyone will still love him because he is a dummy and can pitch really well.

Ozzie Guillen will do the same thing, except replace "pitch really well" with "manage really well and is entertaining as hell."

Some moron will pee in my yard after a Cubs game (I only live a block from Wrigley Field). That moron will possibly be a Robot vs. Dinosaur writer.

Lots of people will hate the Yankees.

Boston fans will continue their steady march to being as obnoxious as Yankees fans.

I will ignore my wife approximately 247 times while she talks to me during an “important” at bat.

My wife will get mad at me approximately 247 times for ignoring her during an “important” at bat and will point out that she is more “important” than any at bat.

We will eventually argue over various situations in which an at bat might actually be more "important" than my wife (I can think of a couple).

I will win approximately zero of these arguments.

I will find every excuse I can to wear my powder blue Royals jersey, and I will look great wearing it.

I will make it to a Brewers game and eat for the cycle (hot dog, bratwurst, Italian sausage and the Polish). I will also drink too many beers while eating for the cycle.

While eating for the cycle, I will get mustard on my powder blue Kansas City Royals jersey.

At some point I will throw my remote control across the room at the end of an "important" at bat.


I will use the greatest bottle opener of all time (at left) to open many, many beers as a misguided coping mechanism.

The Royals will lose way too many games, will get their one allowable "little league" All-Star, and will not win the World Series again and I will love every minute of it!