Kyle Michael is the Balls

Actually, that title is misleading; I don’t have anything particularly interesting to say about this subject. Per my upbringing, I’ve always just assumed that some higher power exists. On the other hand, as a Cincinnati sports fan, I’m open to the possibility that there is, in fact, no god. At any rate, I’m certainly not breaking any new ground when I say that I figure I’ll go ahead and believe, just in case.

I’ll tell you this, though: I’m going to choose my words carefully here, because in the event that there is some omnipotent supreme power, you have to figure He knows all about this blog. And He will mess you up, boy. I can write things here like, “my Torts professor was a complete embarrassment to both the legal and teaching professions,” and what’s gonna happen? He’s probably not going to read it, and so what if he does? But God can make it rain lizards and shit, from what I understand. I don’t need that.

So I’m not offering any thoughts on God, religion, or whatever, here. I did, however, want to pull the following section of a longer post I wrote, in which I discussed atheism:

The irony, of course, is that atheists are always holier-than-thou about their beliefs, or lack thereof. Why anyone would bother to actively not believe in something, I have no idea; I usually assume it’s a cry for attention. I don’t believe in unicorns, but I sure the hell don’t spend time reading entire books about how unicorns don’t exist. Rarely, in fact, do I think about unicorns at all; if someone came to me and told me, “I believe unicorns exist,” I imagine I’d just say, “oh yeah?” and then move on, certain that I was talking to a crazy person, but uninterested in spending any time debating the matter.

For whatever reason, though, atheists love arguing about the existence, or non-existence, of God. This is frustrating for people like myself, who believe in a god, but aren’t particularly passionate about the concept. You’re forced to debate something you don’t think about much, against someone who doesn’t believe in the thing that you don’t think about much. It’s more frustrating for devout believers, because of course you can’t make a convincing argument that God exists; the entire concept of “faith” is based on a lack of evidence.

The only way to handle such a debate, then, is to just beat the atheist senseless. There is no possible way to prove that God exists, so it’s an argument that cannot possibly be “won,” with words. The only answer is to knock the person out, possibly with a sock full of pennies. You’re not going to win the debate anyway, so you may as well resort to violence.

Here’s what I’d like to point out: I am not a religious person, and I’m certainly not overly adamant or defensive about my beliefs. And yet, there I was, advocating the merciless beating of people. In light of that, I can almost comprehend how religious fundamentalists can come to advocate violence and killing, in the name of their beliefs. I don’t condone such behavior, but if I’m willing to clock someone over the head with a sock full of pennies, for lesser reasons, then it’s not unfathomable to me how deeply religious nutjobs can wage entire wars. I feel like this is an important level of understanding.

This is the second post in as many years that’s sort of about the MLB Home Run Derby, which is odd, because it’s not something I’ve really cared about since I was ten or so. But, I’ve often referred to Josh Hamilton here as the “best baseball player to ever play the game,” or something like that, and last night I was giddy with excitement during his performance. Just, wow, you know?

(A side note, regarding his multiple 500-foot home runs: that’s not really possible.  This is why I love baseball: grown men believing ridiculous and impossible things, despite factual evidence to the contrary.  It’s like church, but with mitts.)

Sadly, though, I now have to turn my back on Josh Hamilton (those unfamiliar with the his story of drugs and redemption and blah blah blah should probably brush up), for two important reasons:

He’s Not a Cincinnati Red Anymore. So why should I care about him? Whenever Ken Griffey trade rumors come up, fans say he should be traded to a contender, so he’ll have a chance to win a ring. Why do I give a shit if Ken Griffey wins a World Series, if it’s not in Cincinnati? Once he’s not in a Reds uniform, he can jump off the nearest bridge, for all I care. Same goes for Josh Hamilton. This is KMitB Sports Fan Rule #1: no rooting for multiple teams, in any manner, for any reason. You can go to Hass’ blog for that shit. More importantly:

This “Overcoming Addiction” Story Is Wearing Thin. Hamilton’s is a mind-boggling story, of course, but I don’t understand why doing heroin, and then not doing heroin, is a more inspiring story than just never doing it in the first place. I’m always confused by the stories like this; they seem most common in college football: “So-and-So was raised by a single mother, never knew his father, had brushes with the law as a youth, and was kicked of the team for failing a drug test. Amazingly, he overcame all of that, and got his life together. What an inspiring story.”

For comparison, here’s my story: my parents got married, had me, and have remained married for like 30 years. I’ve stayed out of trouble and away from drugs, worked fairly hard, and been reasonably successful. That’s an “inspiring story.” Would I have enjoyed stealing the occasional car, selling it to buy drugs, and possibly stabbing a hobo or two along the way? Of course. I’ve worked hard to resist those urges and do things the right way, though. No car theft, no drugs, no hobo stabbing. When I come right out and list these things, I realize that the Kyle Michael Story is terribly, terribly inspiring. I’m an amazing person.¹

Anyway, Josh Hamilton wasted 4 years of his lifem, and screwed the Tampa Bay Devil Rays in the process. Eventually he turned into a Jesus freak and got his shit together (that is, he began behaving like a normal, contributing member of society), but there are about 700 guys in the Major Leagues who have behaved like this at every point in their lives. Take my man Josh Fogg, for example: Josh Fogg wouldn’t even know how to do heroin. Just look at him: every day that the Dragon Slayer doesn’t accidently tie his cleats together has to be considered a success, but he’s out there every fifth day nonetheless, doing the things the right way. God, I love him.

Anyway, that’s it for me and Josh Hamilton. We had one last fling, as I watched in complete awe while he socked 500-foot dingers, one after another. But that’s over now.

^{1Actually, this isn’t entirely true, at least concerning “car theft.” When I was 15, my parents’ friends left their car at our house, while they were all on vacation together. My friend and I, still a year away from legal driving age, found the keys and took the car for a spin around town. I don’t count this as a mark on my record, because we were young and didn’t know any better. Also it was totally fucking sweet.}

It’s with a heavy heart that I report this: somehow, I missed the KMitB one-year anniversary, near the end of June. Since I was in Spain for most of month, and thus distracted, I blame Europe for this oversight. I might also point out that Europe is responsible for World Wars I and II. My basic point, I guess, is “fuck Europe.”

Anyway, I feel bad about this. I’m not usually one for pageantry, but I had envisioned a “Kyle Michael is the Balls One-Year Anniversary Spectacul-Arrrh!” It was going to have a “pirate” theme, you see. Now, though, that idea just seems silly.

To make up for this, I considered arbitrarily choosing an old post and celebrating its one-year anniversary. This one from last August seemed sort of fitting, in that it signified the official start of my first year of law school, but the Balls isn’t just about law school, you know?¹ It’s also about whining about sports and calling people “retards” from time to time. I don’t want a celebration of the Balls² to look past the general spirit of the site.

So then, in lieu of an extravaganza, I urge you to take this time to look around at old Balls posts, and feel free to reminisce about how important they’ve been to your life. Print some out and take them on a picnic or something; knock yourself out.

^{1 Also, looking back on that post, it isn’t very good. I suspect that I didn’t really have anything to say, but I had that Boy Meets World joke in my head, so I just shoehorned it in there awkwardly, without any context. That’s lazy, Family Guy-type joke making. I apologize.}

^{2“The Running of the Balls” would also be a good theme for the KMitB anniversary celebration. Or a prom, for that matter. In fact, if you’re a high school principal or teacher in charge of a prom committee this coming school year, consider using “The Running of the Balls” (italics optional) as your theme, and just see where the students go with it.}

Note: Because his time in Cincinnati is probably/maybe/possibly coming to an end in a few weeks, Ken Griffey, Jr. warranted an entire post, evaluating the weirdness that is/was his Cincinnati Reds career. Look for that in a few days; the rest of the team is covered in expert detail, right here:

Just before the All-Star Break each year, I like to figure out what kind of improbable run the Reds will need to go on in order to be in contention, at the trade deadline. Of the myriad joys of being a Reds fan, this little tradition is my favorite; it’s right up there with crying myself to sleep.

Early in the season, Doug Hass’ NL Central prediction put the Reds at 3^rd in the division, which is probably about right. Doug was off base on a few counts, though: while Aaron Harang is a solid starter (although “solid” isn’t the word; “elite” is¹), and the Reds do play in a bandbox ballpark,² it’s important to remember that Dusty Baker is in charge of this team. To no one’s surprise, Harang’s arm appears to be shot (see below), and playing in a small park doesn’t do any good if you’re laying down dumbass sacrifice bunts whenever there are runners on base (see below). I do not blame Hass for forgetting any of this. As a Cubs fan, he’s hopefully repressed all memories of Dusty Baker by now; I already look forward to one day doing the same.

If anyone other than Dusty was in charge of the Reds, I’d have jumped all over Hass’ prediction back then. I’d have guaranteed that the Reds would win the Central by 10 games, and I’d have titled the post “Doug Hass Has Been Eating Hater Tots,” which is hilarious. Dusty ruined all that, though.

So then, following the same template as my own 2008 Season Preview, here’s your 2008 Cincinnati Reds midseason report:

Management: Every Cubs fan in the world blames Dusty Baker for riding Mark Prior and Kerry Wood too hard, ruining their arms. It’s common for Cincinnati broadcasters and journalists to act as though Cubs fans are somehow wrong about this. It’s fitting, then, that in San Diego—where Mark Prior, now a Padre, is currently missing the season, after his 45^th shoulder surgery—Dusty decided to use Aaron Harang in relief for four innings of an 18-inning game, two days after his previous start.³ Harang made his next start on three days rest. Since then, he clearly hasn’t been the Cy Young-caliber pitcher he’s been for the past few years; he’s currently on the DL.

Very early in the year, I tried making notes during games when Dusty was making “questionable” moves. After three games, I wasn’t sleeping well and was considering a Zoloft prescription, so I quit. Here, though, is what I had, in its entirety:

Game Two: Although Edwin Encarnacion has never laid a sacrifice bunt in his career, Dusty calls for him to sac bunt, while down 2 in the bottom of the ninth. Edwin can’t get one down, so with two strikes, he has to swing away. He hits a 3-run walk-off homer, and the Reds win.⁴

Game Three: Johnny Cueto is pitching a one-hitter in his major league debut. Dusty Baker pulls him, bringing in David Weathers, who promptly walks the bases loaded with one out. I wish I was dead.

Game Four: Because the Mobil advertisement behind home plate is bright white, Ken Griffey can’t see the ball coming off the bat, and complains to the umpires; the game is delayed while this is remedied. This isn’t Dusty Baker’s fault; I just wanted to point out the Big Oil is now responsible for both the Bush Administration and a brief inconvenience during a Reds loss. They must be stopped.

Pitching: The Reds traded the Greatest Natural Baseball Player to Ever Walk the Face of the Earth for Edinson Volquez. Incredibly, the trade worked out: Volquez is an All-Star and an NL Cy Young candidate, and the move allowed room for Jay Bruce to be called up. I cannot complain about Johnny Cueto, and while Bronson Arroyo’s having a typically frustrating up-and-down season, he did make these bitchin’ commercials. As a result, even if he never gets another batter out—an entirely plausible scenario, mind you—I will not complain.

As a result of Harang’s arm exploding, we get to see more of the disappointment that is Homer Bailey, which is fine, I guess. More importantly, at least for the time being, the fifth spot in the rotation belongs to Josh Fogg, who I love: just look at him. Doesn’t he look like he’d spend most of his time on the field chewing on his glove and running from bees? I can’t get enough of him. By the end of this year, he’s gonna take the mound and inexplicably fire a fastball into centerfield; I guarantee it.

Bullpen: You know, I haven’t really been paying attention, here; bear in mind that I lived in Europe for a month of this season. I’ll just say that everything’s fine, as far as the bullpen goes. Compared to the 2007 pen, the 2008 staff cannot possibly be worse. So, whatever.

Infield: Brandon Phillips is still the best second baseman in baseball; I refuse to listen to arguments to the contrary. Luckily, Alex Gonzalez has missed the entire year due to injury, which has allowed Jeff Keppinger and Jerry Hairston, Jr. to fill in at shortstop and have solid years. Also, while I feared that 103-year-old Scott Hatteberg would see more playing time at first base than Joey Votto, this hasn’t been the case: they platooned for awhile, then Hatteberg sort of disappeared and was released. I’m not upset about this, but I’m not sure why it happened. We have to assume he was stealing from the clubhouse.

Outfield: Happily, Jay Bruce was called up and is now the everyday centerfielder, so I didn’t have to run over Corey Patterson with my car. Also, Cincinnati fans are yelling “Bruuuuuuuuuce” when he comes to the plate, which is the only acceptable thing to do: I was completely prepared to start rooting for another team if this didn’t happen. Now, if we can get him to use “Born to Run” for his at-bat music, we’re all set.

(A side note: I’ve heard Bruce called “The Cincinnati Kid” on Baseball Tonight a few times, and I need to know if this is the nickname we’re going with. Frankly, I can’t believe this hasn’t already been taken—until the Reds draft someone named WKRP Smith, there isn’t a more obvious nickname for a Red. I’m also willing to accept “The Boss,” obviously.)

(Another side note: Speaking of at-bat music, I couldn’t wait until the separate Ken Griffey post to mention that, for the past few years, he’s been using the music from the Soul Glo commercial in Coming to America. This is easily the best thing he’s done in a Reds uniform; possibly it’s the greatest single thing anyone has ever done in the history of the universe. I cannot possibly overstate this.)

Adam Dunn, of course, will hit 40+ home runs, drive in 100+ RBIs, and have an on-base percentage around .380, just like always. Also, everyone in Cincinnati will insist that he must immediately be traded. I refuse to even comment on this. If Dunn is traded, I will write a 15,000-word post about it, and then I will throw myself off the nearest cliff, clutching a copy of Moneyball. Until then, I will not allow myself to get worked up about it.

Overall: This is a pretty good synopsis of the Dusty Baker Era, so far: sometime in the next 24 hours, I will watch or listen to a Reds game, during which someone will fail to lay down a sacrifice bunt and advance a runner. Then, the broadcasters—probably Marty Brennaman or his mentally retarded son, Thom—will spend five minutes bemoaning the fact that this team “can’t do the little things.” Of course, this is a team that plays in a small ballpark, with potential 30-40 home run guys at nearly every position: there is no reason to do the little things. Just hit the goddamn ball out of the park. But Dusty will continue giving away outs by calling for sacrifice bunts, hit-and-runs, and ill-advised stolen base attempts. If I am watching the game on television, I will at some point turn the channel in frustration, watch 10 minutes of iCarly on Nickelodeon, and then return to the game and repeat the entire process, as though I have Alzheimer’s.

The bright side is this: with a few wins and some luck, the Reds could conceivably enter the All-Star Break only 5-6 games out of the Wild Card race. Luckily for me, I am the type of idiot who will be fooled into believing that they still have a chance. In fact, I look forward to it.

^{1By “is,” I probably mean “was.” I feel sad inside.}

^{2Actually, this idea—that playing in a small ballpark somehow helps the Reds—has never really made any sense to me. They’re not just tossing the ball up to themselves and hitting it out of the park; visiting teams are playing there as well. Why would Great American Ballpark’s dimensions benefit the Reds any more than the visiting team? If anything, it’s just made it difficult for the Reds to sign any free agent pitching over the years.}

^{3Dusty also used 24-year-old All-Star Edinson Volquez in the 17th and 18th innings, on one day’s rest since his previous start. I may kill someone.}

^{4Just before I left for Barcelona, I went to a game with my family, where this exact same situation happened, with Adam Dunn at bat in the bottom of the 9th. Before Dunn gave up on the sacrifice bunt, opting instead to hit a 400-foot walkoff home run, my brother said, “didn’t Dusty do the same thing with Edwin awhile back? What an idiot.” My brother is 21 and has never been seriously considered for a Major League managerial position, by the way.}

People generally understand that I am a wise, wise sage. For this reason, I’m asked for my advice on all sorts of matters, from child rearing to automobile repair, and everywhere in between. This being an election year, I’ve obviously been inundated with questions: “Who should I vote for?” “How do I get to the polling place?” “What is an ‘election,’ exactly?”

As a public service, then, I’d like to share my views on who you should vote for this year.¹ But first, a question: why exactly are we all walking around with Obama boners, all of the sudden? I understand that he represents “change,” and the end of the God-awful Bush administration. But we already had a chance for that, you know?

In 2004, voters had a choice between George Bush and John Kerry; that is, a choice between a man widely regarded as evil, retarded, or both—the Worst Fuckup in Presidential History—and someone else. It was also all the rage to suggest that John McCain would be an excellent running mate for John Kerry, in 2004. It was a “Dream Ticket,” remember? McCain was a “maverick” who Democrats could get on board with! He was a Republican, but he was a good one, you see. Those two could unite this divided country, damn it. Of course, that Dream Ticket didn’t happen, and John Kerry couldn’t galvanize young, liberal voters, because he looked like a French Muppet.

Four years later, the choice isn’t as drastic as in 2004; neither candidate happens to be the Worst Fuckup in Presidential History. In fact, when John McCain isn’t busy courting the conservative vote, he’s socially moderate, occasionally liberal—remember, we wanted him to be the Democratic nominee for Vice President four years ago. No matter who wins this election, things cannot possibly get worse than the past eight years.

In other words, as elections go, this isn’t nearly as immediately important as the 2004 election. It’s not even close. To expand my question, then: since so many people seem so incredibly excited about Barack Obama in 2008, may I ask where the fuck you dumbasses were in 2004?

I understand that Barack Obama’s charisma is off the charts. In the 90’s, much was always made about Bill Clinton’s² unbelievable charisma; Obama’s in a whole different league. I get that. But 4 years ago, there was still a chance to maybe, possibly, conceivably change directions in Iraq, before more kids got sent off to be blown up. That’s a reason to be politically motivated. That’s a reason to fall in love with a political candidate. That’s a reason to update your Facebook profile, so that everyone can know that you’re voting for so-and-so. Or so you’d think.

(A quick side note, here: clearly Facebook is a “factor” in politics, these days. Becoming a “fan” of Barack Obama is the new equivalent of putting a sign in your front yard; I fully expect CNN to run a story about this in 2014 or so. To go ahead and critique that story ahead of time: I don’t think it matters. To look at my friend list, you’d think that Barack Obama would gather about 95% of the 18-35 vote. That said, nearly every single person on Facebook lists Radiohead as a favorite band, in their profile.³ I have 141 Facebook friends, and I estimate that 140 of them claim to love Radiohead. I suspect only 10-15 of them can actually hum a Radiohead tune other than “Creep,” though. Why this is the case with Radiohead, I do not know, but I suspect the same is true of politics, and Obama in particular: I suspect that a lot of Obama’s Facebook supporters won’t actually make it to the polls.)

Anyway, all of that was not enough to make young voters care in 2004, but now everyone has Obamania. I will never understand this. Nonetheless, I hope Obama wins in November. As I’ve said before, if there’s a polling place on the way to wherever I’m headed on Election Day, I’ll swing in and vote for him.

That, then, is my advice to you, the undecided voter: if it takes an absolute minimum effort from you—if you live or work right next to a polling place, and if you have nothing else to do that day—go vote for Barack Obama. But if not, don’t bother. Ultimately, your vote will not matter anyway. No matter how often you hear or say things like “it is your civic duty to vote,” or “if you don’t vote, you have no right to complain,” they are not true.

It is not your civic duty to vote, especially if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. Thousands of people will vote for John McCain solely because Barack Obama is black, and thousands will vote for Barack Obama solely because he is black. Thousands will vote for McCain solely because Obama is young, and thousands will vote for Obama solely because he is young. Thousands will vote for McCain solely because they think Obama is Muslim (Obama is not Muslim), and thousands will vote for Obama solely because they hate George Bush (McCain is not George Bush). None of these alone are valid reasons to vote, and no one casting a ballot for these reasons are doing their “civic duty;” if anything, they’re doing the public a disservice.⁴

Perhaps, though, you are extremely passionate about one of these solitary reasons. Perhaps you received a forwarded email, informing you that Barack Obama is, in fact, secretly Muslim, and thus clearly a pawn in an elaborate Al-Qaeda scheme to destroy the Western world. In the event that you are some kind of dumbshit, this will probably be a deciding factor for you in November, right? Well, it doesn’t really matter: you can go to the polls, and you can cast your vote, but it won’t change anything. Your vote will most likely be an ultimately pointless drop in the bucket. In the event of a close election—such as the 2000 election, when we all learned the importance of getting out and voting!—your vote matters even less, unless you’re a Supreme Court Justice. On Election Day, you can get out to the polls, or you can stay home and jerk off all day; the only difference is that you get a sticker for voting.

So then, there you go. Go nuts for the candidate of your choice. Buy clever “Obama Says Knock You Out!” t-shirts and so on. And if you enjoy doing such things, go ahead and vote; politics can be a fun hobby. Just don’t fool yourself into thinking that you’re actually making a difference. You are not.

^{1Or, if you like, “whom you should vote for.”}

^{2A lot of Obama supporters might remember Bill Clinton. He was huge in the 90’s, popular beyond belief. These days, though, it’s important to pretend that this was never the case; he is to be hated now. He’s like the Limp Bizkit of Presidents.}

^{3Also popular is “I like pretty much everything!” which translates to “I don’t really like anything; I just listen to what the radio plays.” It’s also very important, at least where I’m from, to list “…and some country,” which is either chubby sorority girl code for “Rascal Flatts,” or indie rock/heavy metal/hip-hop fan code for “Johnny Cash.” I don’t understand why this is so common, but whenever I meet someone new, I always hope to find that, under “Music,” their Facebook profile lists something like: “I like only a very specific, non-diverse collection of music; namely country music, and specifically the first six songs on Clint Black’s second album. I refuse to listen to anything else.”}

^{4My favorite reason is always “I’m voting for ______ because I want a change,” as though the specific change isn’t actually important, just as long as something is different. When I run for president, I will be the candidate that’s totally “For Change,” but I’ll never specify what I’m going to “change.” Then, when I take office, I will announce that from now on, citizens will be randomly dragged from their cars and beaten senseless in the streets; that’s the “change” I was talking about.}

The following is a section of a long-winded piece I wrote, somewhat in response to Ben Blair’s post about the Supreme Court overturning Washington, D.C.’s handgun ban. The original post used the phrase “fucking retarded” a lot more, and devoted a lot of space to the fucking retarded idea that citizen militias are still a valid reason for gun ownership. After awhile, it appeared that making that argument would require some type of actual research, so I just deleted it. Instead, I’ve elected to just post the portion ridiculing one part of Justice Scalia’s opinion. I never got around to making any real points of my own, and the post ends sort of abruptly, because WGN was running two solid hours of ALF, so I had to get out to the living room.

As Blair points out, and as Anton Scalia has evidently decided to dance around, the 2^nd Amendment refers to militias; if one chooses to interpret it in this light, the amendment allows you to keep and bear arms, for purposes of maintaining a well-regulated militia. Easy enough.

You may have noticed that you don’t see many good militias these days; I suspect they’re hard to get together.¹ Blair sticks to his guns (so to speak) here, maintaining that this is still a relevant purpose. That’s fine, if silly, but it fails to account for the use of guns for other purposes. Where does hunting fit in? Or, for that matter, why should you be allowed to use a gun to defend yourself against any threat other than an “oppressive government” or an invasion? The 2^nd Amendment doesn’t mention anything about any of this; you’d think Scalia would have a problem with that.²

But, he didn’t. Like Blair, Scalia combines the 2^nd Amendment with a common law right to self defense. In doing so, and in endorsing the dipshit view that keeping handguns in the home for self-defense is a good idea, Scalia writes (and I swear I am not making this up): “[a handgun] can be pointed at a burglar with one hand while the other hand dials the police.“

Isn’t that precious? Anton Scalia—a Georgetown and Harvard Law-educated Supreme Court Justice, mind you—harbors illusions that, if one keeps a handgun in the home, one could stop a dangerous criminal in his tracks, and dial the police with the other hand. Here I was, just assuming that most gun owners are slack-jawed, tiny-penised, misguided, paranoid dimwits; I completely ignored the possibility that a hidden army of domestic Jack Bauers was out there, heroically thwarting burglary attempts and calling the police, all at once. This is how I envision this scenario:

Scene: Midnight; suburban neighborhood. A vicious cat burglar lurks near a residence. Because this is a right-wing conservative gun-totin’ asshole fantasy, he’s probably black, right? Let’s just assume that.

[enter Cat Burglar]

Homeowner: Alright, just stop right there!

Cat Burglar: Damn!

Homeowner: That’s right; as you can see, I have a gun.

Cat Burglar: What rotten luck!

Homeowner: Indeed. You know, I have a curious toddler and a depressed teenager. While the chances of one of them finding the gun and tragically blowing their brains all over the place are far greater than the odds of my stupid ass actually using it to stop an intruder, I bought it anyway. At a time like this, I’m glad I did!

Cat Burglar: I can see why! Now, I have a gun as well; you’d think that the sight of your gun would make me more likely to use mine, wouldn’t you? I mean, if you were unarmed, I’d just be a criminal whose goal was to merely steal things from your home, but now I have my own self-preservation at stake. Come to think of it, I should probably shoot you in the face right now, you know?

Homeowner: That kind of logic has no place in this fantasy dream world!

[Homeowner reaches for the phone.]

Cat Burglar: Wait a minute. You’re not—

Homeowner: That’s right; I’m dialing the police. As a matter of comically convenient happenstance, I was able to thwart your burglary right next to my telephone, here.

Cat Burglar: The very telephone I was going to steal! Cursed irony!

This would never happen. If this was a scene in a movie, you’d groan at how unrealistic it was (though I admit that the writing does leap off the page). Nonetheless, this is part of the Scalia’s reasoning. Boggles the damn mind.

^{1″Will I still have free time for personal interests, such as forming and maintaining a militia?” is a question prospective law students often ask. I personally do not recommend this kind of thing until after your first year.}

^{2Speaking of a originalist approach to the Constitution—like Scalia uses (except when he doesn’t)—wouldn’t it stand to reason, under this approach, that the 2nd Amendment only provides the right to bear arms that were available at the time the Amendment was written? Scalia uses a 1773 dictionary to define “arms” in the Heller opinion (”weapons of offence, or armour of defence”), but for some reason he doesn’t feel the need to limit this to “weapons of offence” available in 1773? Scalia, evidently, reads this 1773 definition of “arms” to include semi-automatic handguns, which didn’t exist then. No word on the 1773 definition of “inconsistent.”}

I went to live in Barcelona for awhile. Now I’m back. The trip may or may not inform a few posts here; we’ll see. Regarding Spain itself, I don’t have much to add to what Hass has already posted; those curious can just check out his site. Otherwise, it’ll be business as usual around here, soon enough. You’re welcome.

(Okay, one side note that’s pretty exciting: I sat next to the guy that played Eddie on Family Matters, on my connecting flight from Newark to Indianapolis. This was the absolute highlight of my trip.¹)

^{1Actually, this is a complete lie. But doesn’t it seem like it could be true? If I say, “I sat next to Urkel,” people would know that’s bullshit; Urkel probably only flies first class. But Eddie Winslow? It’s totally plausible.}

As promised, here’s a long-winded baseball post, outlining the first of a probably endless, and ultimately pointless, set of recommendations for improving Major League Baseball. In typical KMitB fashion, these are largely random, absent any context, and possibly misinformed. Enjoy.

No More Designated Hitter. It’s just stupid. Even ignoring the obvious fact that it takes away from the strategy of the game, doesn’t it seem like it unfairly affects statistics? The major uproar about steroids in baseball is that it tarnishes the record book, by giving steroid users an unfair advantage over non-users from previous eras; doesn’t designated hitter rule creates a lesser, but more immediate, disparity between the leagues? Batters in the 6-7-8 spots in American League have a position player batting after them in the 9 spot; National League hitters have a pitcher there. On an intricate level, this changes the way 6-7-8 batters are pitched to in the American League; they likely see more pitches to hit, while in the National League they can be pitched around, to get to the pitcher’s spot. Further, 1-2-3 batters in the American League have someone batting 9^th who may be able to get on base; again, National Leaguers have a pitcher batting .125 there.

Maybe the difference is insignificant; without doing research I can’t really say.¹ But analyzing and correcting the Steroid Era’s damage to the record books is almost impossible; it requires determining the actual benefits steroids provide, as well as proving who actually used them, etc. In addition, any such analysis ignores the fact that other factors cloud the issue: even without steroids, players today are bigger and stronger; parks are smaller; expansion has watered down pitching; it’s inherently difficult to compare players from different eras in the first place. Fixing the DH rule’s effect on statistics is easy: just do away with it.

Also, About Steroids: Let’s just forget about it and move on. The record books might be tarnished, and big-market teams have probably benefited from being able to sign steroid users with gaudy stats, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just test for steroids from now on, and otherwise drop the subject; it’s boring at this point.

(Before we do, though, a side note: if so many players were juicing, doesn’t that kind of offset things? I mean, Barry Bonds used steroids, and Hank Aaron didn’t, but Hank Aaron didn’t have to face pitchers that used steroids, right? Isn’t this significant?)

Let Dome/Warm Weather Teams Open the Season at Home. Every year, opening week games are rained or snowed out. This year, the Blue Jays/Yankees opener was rained out in New York, while the Skydome in Toronto sat empty. The Cincinnati Reds open at home each year; even Major League Baseball won’t screw up that tradition. Other than them, though, why not let Florida, Texas, California, and dome teams play their first series or two at home, to the furthest extent possible? In their infinite wisdom, the Minnesota Twins are building a stadium without a dome or retractable roof; when it opens in 2010, it’ll snow 7 inches on Opening Day, and the Baseball Tonight analysts will suggest some dumbass idea like “starting the season later” (so that it extends into November, which isn’t exactly balmy) or “shortening the season.” Meanwhile, domes and stadiums in warm weather cities will be unused.

Please, Please Fix the Payroll Inequality: ESPN will devote hours to Roger Clemens’ steroid use, but somehow Baseball Tonight never addresses the fact that most teams could never afford to sign Clemens in the first place? Isn’t that a much bigger problem? Alex Rodriguez makes more than the entire Florida Marlins roster; the average New York Yankee makes about 1/3 of the Marlins’ payroll. The Yankees are spending $209,081,579 in 2008; 21 teams in the league aren’t spending even half that.

(As an alternative to actually fixing this—which is probably impossible—how about we just realign, based on payroll? Dumbasses will frequently claim that payroll “isn’t an issue,” because the Yankees haven’t won a World Series since 2000, and every so often a “small market” team will come out of a weak division and win a playoff series. In reality, though, playoffs are kind of a crapshoot; the 2008 Tampa Bay Devil Rays would beat the 1927 Yankees in a 3-of-5 series, once in a while. The problem is that so many small-payroll teams have no shot at even making the playoffs. If we realign with this in mind, the Rays and Orioles don’t have to play the Yankees and Red Sox in the AL East 300 times a year, and come October we can come together and root for the scrappy Pittsburgh Pirates, winners of the NL Poor, to beat the hated Red Sox, winners of the AL Rich division. I started this paragraph as a joke, but now I’ve convinced myself it’s brilliant.)

Speaking of the Yankees: Enough with the Yankees/Red Sox coverage. ESPN devotes 23 hours a day to this “storied rivalry,” and roughly 5 minutes per season on 15-20 other teams. The NFL only plays games two days a week, but plenty of teams still play on national television each year. The current Patriots dynasty is probably the best ever, and they get a ton of airtime, but the rest of the league also enjoys extensive coverage on ESPN and pre-game shows. Accordingly, even terrible, “small market” teams have legitimate, marketable stars. Prior to Chad Johnson’s recent antics, you could see that he and Reds 2^nd baseman Brandon Phillips were very, very similar: extremely talented, extremely successful, and extremely marketable. Chad Johnson’s a huge star, though, while no one outside of Cincinnati knows about Brandon Phillips.

So then, of all the ways to generate revenue and promote the league, doesn’t it seem like devoting coverage to more than two teams would be a good move? If people ever heard about the Kansas City Royals, they’d be interested—they have cool uniforms, right? Give them some exposure, dipshits will buy some merchandise, and the Royals can generate some revenue to sign players that might win a game or two. Also, I’d be less tempted to drive to ESPN headquarters and stab John Kruk.²

No More International Games. The Boston Red Sox and Oakland A’s opened this season in Tokyo, of all places. This is ridiculous, even if it generates revenue and “promotes the game.” I’m sure I could expand this blog’s readership with a Spanish version,³ but that doesn’t mean I should. KMitB respects its own tradition; Major League Baseball should do the same. If they must, the league can play exhibition games abroad, but no regular season games. (In fact, I might consider making “exhibition posts” for international readers. I have a lot of scattered thoughts that don’t warrant full posts; perhaps my Spanish-speaking fans will enjoy a brief essay about how Johnny Cash’s cultural influence is overstated. ¡Es muy!).

Aluminum Bats in the Home Run Contest. Also, if we can use juiced baseballs or something, let’s do that. This one explains itself.

Let Pete Rose In the Hall Of Fame. Sure, I’m biased, but in light of the Steroid Era, does keeping the all-time hits leader out of the Hall for gambling seem right?⁴ Put an asterisk by his name, if necessary.⁵

There’s No Need to Promote Inner City Baseball. Major League Baseball is concerned that the percentage of African Americans in the league is low; on a related note, the league funds initiatives to promote baseball programs for inner-city youths (meanwhile: still no cure for cancer).

I’m suspicious about the league’s motives—it seems more likely that Baseball is concerned with missing out on a potential market than it is with promoting a sport and keeping inner-city youths out of trouble.⁶ Who cares if black people don’t like baseball? Of all the problems attendant to racial inequality, I have never heard black people complain about this: “Why don’t we, as a culture, enjoy this slow moving, often boring game? We demand to be interested in this!”

At any rate, black or white, inner city youths don’t play baseball because there aren’t any places to play baseball in inner cities. I mean: duh. Kids in Texas play baseball; I suspect kids in Harlem don’t have as many places to shag fly balls.

If baseball absolutely must “promote the game” in inner cities, it would be extremely helpful if inner city families could fucking afford to attend a goddamn game. Middle class white families generally can’t afford to attend more than a few games a season; inner city children sure the hell ain’t gonna be able to pick up Mets season tickets. Holding programs to teach black kids how to bunt isn’t the answer; charging less than 32 dollars for a soda at the ballpark might be.

Let TV Viewers See Fans Running Onto the Field. I understand it’s unwise to allow drunk college kids to get on TV by interrupting a game to run on the field; teams don’t want to encourage such behavior. However, it’s important to remember that it’s totally rad when this happens. Baseball games are basically 3 hours of watching guys standing around, so idiots running onto the field and being tackled by security is kind of a welcome break in the “action.” Criminal charges are probably enough of a deterrent to prevent most of these incidents, but when they do happen, I need to see them.

^{1And I ain’t doing no damn research, that’s for sure.}

^{2I refuse to make a joke about John Kruk having only one testicle, here, even though a “John Kruk is the Ball” joke is right there for the taking. We try to maintain an elevated level of discourse on this blog.}

^{3”Kyle Michael es los Balls.”}

^{4In the interest of full disclosure, I’m delusional enough to still believe Pete never bet on baseball, even if he’s admitted as much. Doesn’t it seem possible that Pete would admit to something he didn’t do, under the mistaken impression that doing so would lead to reinstatement? This kind of thinking helps me sleep at night.}

^{5In fact, put 4,256 asterisks by his name, you know what I’m saying?}

^{6Seriously; the way to keep inner city kids out of trouble is to give them bats?}

In the rush of finals, the aforementioned baseball post was delayed, so all that “smooth segue” talk in the last post was completely false. I’ll need to review that post anyway, because it’s possible I lashed out at Doug Hass’ comments about the Reds’ chances in 2008, and declared that the Reds would shock the world by winning the NL Central. In hindsight, such a declaration would have been a little premature. (Although, I should mention that I refuse to fully accept the team’s 14-21 record. Winning, as you may know, has an inherent anti-Cincinnati bias. Should the Reds be punished just because they can’t score runs? Is that fair? Not in Kyle Michael’s America, it’s not.)

Anyway, I’ve noticed increased traffic to this site recently, likely from future 1Ls—the “Indiana Law Class of 2011” Facebook group has formed, so I imagine there are plenty of anxious incoming students looking for law school advice and anecdotes. You kids have come to the right place; there’s killer advice all over this blog.¹ As a bonus, here are a few quick overriding thoughts for you poor bastards admitted students to remember, as you prepare to start your law school careers:

It’s Not That Bad. It really isn’t. I remember wondering what I was getting myself into; whether I could handle it; if law school really was “three years of hell.” It isn’t. I consistently had more fun in the past year than in any other year of my life, and I no point did I ever come close to feeling like it was too much to handle. There are two hard periods: the first week or so, when you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing, and the finals periods. The former isn’t really bad at all; you’re all in it together, and no one really knows what they’re doing. The latter isn’t a cake walk—finals period is a two week blitz of looooong study days and exhausting 3 or 4-hour exams. But by the time you get there, you’ll (almost) know what you’re doing, and you’ll actually enjoy the chance to sit down and review (or learn) the material, without classes and LRW assignments getting in the way. Once you’re a “seasoned veteran” in spring, you’ll actually look forward to it.

Okay, Sometimes It’s Bad. You’re going to hate your Legal Research and Writing class. It’s kind of unsettling, because researching and writing briefs is what most of you will actually do, as lawyers—but you won’t also have Crim Law and Torts reading taking up your time, as professionals. The worst days of law school are just before your LRW briefs are due, when you’re struggling to finish your papers, read for class, and find time to maybe sleep or eat. It sucks, but again: you’re all in it together, and misery loves company. At the end of the day, there are worse things than staying up all night to figure out proper citation form for a legal brief.² You’ll be fine.

^{1Also “balls” jokes!}

^{2For example, you know when you’re out at a bar, and there’s poker on TV, and someone nearby starts talking to you about it? Like, “oh, he’s got an Ace High! He’s got this one, unless he gets beat on the river!” This is the worst situation that a human being can possibly endure. If you can survive that, law school is a breeze.}

I have to hand it to myself: this is a pretty smooth segue:¹ my last post was about race, and the next will be about baseball, so a “Race and Baseball” post is the perfect transition. Make a note of this, Pulitzer people.

On April 15^th, Major League Baseball will honor the 61^st anniversary of Jackie Robinson breaking baseball’s color barrier. For the second year, players will be allowed to wear Robinson’s retired #42, an idea that Ken Griffey Jr. introduced last year. This is a cool way to pay tribute, and as an individual Jackie Robinson’s certainly worthy—his braveness in the face of racism is legendary, of course, but no one ever seems to mention that he’s probably one of the five best 2^nd basemen in history (and later in his career, he played about 2,000 innings at third base, where he was even better). History textbooks refer to Jackie Robinson as the first black player in the Major Leagues; they seem to ignore the fact that he was one of the best ballplayers of all time.

So then, as a man and a baseball player, Jackie Robinson deserves high honors. However, in hindsight, maybe “breaking the color barrier” wasn’t the biggest deal in the world: these days, black people don’t really play baseball.

On one hand, this is a stupid argument: it ignores how hugely important Jackie Robinson was to civil rights and equality in 1947; accordingly, it also probably ignores how culturally important baseball was in 1947. To that effect, Jackie Robinson’s importance to America and African-Americans can’t possibly be overstated. His importance to baseball in 2008, though, is. Of 750 Major League players, only 73 African-Americans were on 2008 Opening Day rosters.² There are twice as many Latin American players, and more players from the Dominican Republic alone.³ Simply put, black players aren’t prevalent in baseball, and baseball isn’t prevalent in black culture.⁴

(A side note: an obvious argument might be that African-Americans only make up about 12% of the American population, so the percentage of black Major League players corresponds almost perfectly. But in 1978, African Americans made up about 25% of the league. This argument also ignores the fact that African Americans make up about half of the NFL and 85% of the NBA.)

I don’t think this is a big deal, and while my next baseball-related post digs a little more deeply into why black people don’t play baseball, I think that for the most part it’s just because they don’t want to. This is totally fine, but it underscores my point: Jackie Robinson breaking the color barrier isn’t as hugely important to baseball in 2008 as the league pretends it is. It’s clearly important to 73 specific players, and to American culture as a whole, but I’m not entirely sure it warrants a yearly league-wide tribute. It’s a little like honoring Chuck Berry or Little Richard every year for breaking the color barrier in rock and roll:⁵ this doesn’t happen, and it’s probably because black people aren’t terribly interested in rock and roll. Baseball, though, celebrates Jackie Robinson Day every year. Ironically, most black people probably don’t even notice.

^{1Here’s a fun fact: this is pronounced “seg-way.” I thought “segue” was one word, and “segueway” was another, but evidently this is not the case. This is going to be a huge hit at my next vocabulary-themed kegger.}

^{2Oddly (maybe), your 2008 Cincinnati Reds Opening Day roster featured three African American starters (Griffey, Patterson, Phillips), and as I type this I’m watching a fourth (Norris Hopper) starting in place of Patterson.}

^{3Also, in 2007 there were 3 German players on Opening Day rosters; in 2008 there were none. Who were these guys? What happened to them? I demand an investigation.}

^{4I have no research to back this up this last point.}

^{5You could probably argue, though, that Chuck Berry and Little Richard didn’t break any “color barrier,” but rather invented rock and roll, period.}