Tag: rules

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My Rules, Your Rules

My fellow fans of the Colorado Rockies, rejoice. Our suffering is over.

That may sound nonsensical, like saying “Welcome the World Series champion Chicago Cubs.” But you see, I’ve found the way to end our early-season woes, now and into the future.

Are you ready? Here it is.

Every season, from Opening Day until May 15, we declare that runs against our relief pitchers don’t count.

You see, every Rockies fan knows that the three sure things in life are death, taxes and that our bullpen will blow a late-game lead. So we simply don’t let them. Let the opposition do what it can against our starters; once the relievers come in, their batters will be shut down to zero … by decree.

It’s simple. It’s effective. It’s …

What do you mean, illegal?

Well, no, the rule book doesn’t currently allow that. But don’t worry about that. If we don’t like the rules, we can simply ignore them.

Just ask the great state of North Carolina.

For those who missed it, two North Carolina legislators have introduced a bill that would let the state set an official religion. And to those with worries about that pesky First Amendment (and that equally inconvenient Fourteenth Amendment that applies its protections to the states), have no fear – the bill explicitly says the federal courts don’t get to decide what’s constitutional in North Carolina.

That’s right. If we don’t like the rules, we get to ignore them.

Mind you, declaring independence of federal authority used to be called secession, but I’m sure nothing could possibly go wrong with that. Right?

Now, to be fair, no one really expects the North Carolina bill to go anywhere. It’s a statement, sort of like pounding your shoe on the table, only less likely to leave an impression.

And yet, and yet … it’s always tempting to set aside the rules, isn’t it?

Note that I’m not talking about constitutional challenges in the courts. There’s a long and honored place for that. Any rule set can be re-interpreted over time, from theology to baseball, and fresh debates help keep the rules alive, by forcing us to consider what we mean by them.

But interpreting the rule book, even revising it, is a different thing from throwing it out all together. And there’s been a lot of states ready and willing to do just that.

Don’t like the mandated health insurance that the Supreme Court called constitutional? Go ahead, set it aside.

Federal laws on marijuana seem draconian? Repeal them locally and hope the feds don’t care enough to do anything.

Federal tariffs not to your liking? Go ahead and … whoops, that’s the South Carolina nullification crisis of 1832. My mistake. (I guess everything old really is new again.)

To be fair, the feds have the same temptation. It can be so easy to shortcut due process by just sticking a terror suspect in Guantanamo Bay, or to whistle at rules against unreasonable search and seizure while allowing a choice in airports between “virtual strip search” or actual groping. If thy rule offend thee, cut it off.

But it’s only when we agree on the rules that we really have a nation.

Again, I’m not saying the rules can never change. I’m sure we can all agree on many that should. But that’s the point – changing the rules requires agreement. Ignoring them requires a roll of masking tape to mark off your side of the room and a declaration that “I’m not listening to you!”

If we’re going to do that, we might as well call the ballgame. And frankly, I’m not willing to give up on the season yet.

But then, I’m a Rockies fan.

Call me an optimist.

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Take Me Out of the Ballgame

The best thing about the late winter may be the promise that baseball is just around the corner.

Think of it. The crack of the bat. The roar of the crowd. The crowds and the teams, divided in loyalty, yet united in a love of the game and a conviction that the umpire is always wrong …

Whoops. Wait a second. Hold that thought about unity.

At least, until after you see this bit out of Reuters.

“A baseball game between Cuba’s national team and a South Korean professional club had to be called off when they could not agree on which ball to use …”

That’s right. They argued over the baseballs.

Sometimes I wonder about humanity.

If you wonder what the big deal is, join the club. Apparently, it’s common practice for each team in an international game to supply its own baseballs for pitching and fielding, so that no one gets hurt handling a ball they’re not used to. Odd, but reasonable.

But this time, the Cubans put their foot down. Our spheroids or none at all. And when the Koreans said “no thanks,” the Cubans canceled the game.

Why does this sound familiar?

Oh, yeah. That’s right. Our other great American pastime. The one that spends money by the bale and fills television with images guaranteed to generate exasperation and anger.

No, I don’t mean football.

Let me start by saying that anyone looking for peace and harmony in American politics is either doomed to a long and fruitless search, or destined to write fiction. We have been, from the beginning, a nation of arguers. One historian, studying the colonial period, was struck by how many petty lawsuits were clogging the courts. Ours may be a nation of the people, by the people, for the people, but it’s also one where a lot can stand between the people.

All right. Fair enough. A free country’s about debate, right?

Well, yes. Absolutely. Just like baseball, having competition is part of the game. If you have a stadium where one team offers no opposition to the other … well, you have last year’s Colorado Rockies. But back to my point.

In the end, a game is about resolution: someone wins, loses or gets rained out. Political debates don’t have to be that cut-and-dried, but it’s still supposed to be about getting somewhere, reaching a decision, coming to a compromise, getting something done – or sometimes, not done, if that’s the best thing for everyone concerned.

But that only works if everyone wants it to. If you take your ball and go home, there’s no game. If you say ‘My way or no way’ to everything, there’s no debate.

There’s just noise.

Admittedly, we’re overcoming a lot here. There’s a recent theory among social scientists that we didn’t develop reason to find truth, but to better insist on our version of it. We may actually be hardwired to insist on what we want in the face of all evidence, a tendency that only gets reinforced when our social networks, both real and virtual, start filling up with people who agree with us.

But the wiring isn’t unbeatable. We have made it work. We have played the game. Often with great acrimony, but we’ve played it.

Is it so unthinkable that we could do it again?

There are over 400 friends on my Facebook page. Some go about as far left or right as a person can without insisting on totalitarianism. But even when we’ve argued, I haven’t dropped them.

They make me think. Sometimes what they make me think is “You’re crazy.” But if I have to examine my own preconceptions, even for a second, it’s worthwhile.

That’s how I beat the circuits. Or at least give them a fight.

If enough of us do the same, maybe even Washington can become useful again.

Hey. It’s a season for dreams.

Play ball.

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Faster, Higher, Sillier

Stop the presses. The International Olympic Committee may have learned what the words “common sense” mean.

Well, to a degree, anyway. This is the IOC we’re talking about.

For those who missed it, master gold-grabber Michael Phelps nearly had his medals stripped from him this week by the Olympic powers-that-be. Painful for any athlete, this would have been horrific for the all-time record holder, the most decorated Olympian in history.

So what did he do? Was he caught sneaking a joint? Did he fix a race, dope his blood, make a lewd proposition to Prince William’s wife?

No, no, no and no.

Instead Mr. Phelps, to the horror of red-blooded Olympic bureaucrats everywhere, appeared in an ad that … that … (gasp) did not involve an official sponsor of the 2012 London Games.

I’ll give you a moment to recover from the fainting spell.

That’s right. In photos leaked before the end of the Games, Phelps was seen advertising for fashion house Louis Vitton. In an act of magnanimity, Olympic officials decided that Phelps had no control over when those pictures would be released, and thus would not have to give his medals back under IOC Rule 40.

How generous. How kind.

And how come his medals were at stake at all?

Make no mistake, I understand that the Olympic Games have become big business. It’s been reported that the Games cleared over 1 billion pounds (that’s over $1.5 billion) in sponsorship revenue. Ads are no less vital for the athletes, many of whom depend on endorsements to see any kind of income at all from their sport.

Without some sort of exclusive guarantee, the money stays away. I get that. But let’s not forget what this is.

This is an athletic competition.

Medals aren’t based on your looks, your income or even how nice a guy you are. (And let’s face it, all of us can remember some real stinkers who brought home gold.) They’re based on what you did on the field, on the court, in the pool.

And they should only be taken away for the same reason.

If you cheated, if you doped, if you somehow compromised the competition, then by all means strip the medal. I’ll cheer the IOC on as they do it.

But this is just stupid.

I’m guessing the IOC wanted a threat that would get people’s attention. Well, they got it. Now it’s time to get a clue, too.

Levy fines. Big ones if it seems necessary. This was a monetary offense, so it should get a monetary payback.

But if you start invalidating on-the-field performances to feed the cash cow, people will start questioning the purpose of the Games in the first place. Is this for the glory of sport? Or simply the glory of McDonald’s?

Please don’t answer that. I’m not sure I want to know.

The IOC finally reached the right decision. Now it needs to reach the right reasoning as well. Review Rule 40. Please. And make the changes common sense requires.

Otherwise, we’ll be forced to conclude that Phelps wasn’t the only one going off the deep end.