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Nov. 24, 2004 Not long ago, I applied to be the Vice President of Communications for the “Washington Nationals.” Surely, nothing will come of it. As the newest team in Major League Baseball, and the hottest thing in D.C. sports since Michael Jordan opened an overpriced steakhouse, the Washington Nationals are deluged with resumes for all manner of front-office positions -- from Chief Concessioneer (sometimes known as the “hot dog hot dog”) to Vice President of Acquiring Players from Other Teams. That said, I shouldn’t sell myself short. I think I stand a better than average chance of being considered for the Communications VP job. I am articulate, I am a people person and I can communication at least as well as President Dubya, our esteemed commando and chief -- and he is one who places prioritization on his communicabilitudinous..ness. You know what I mean. The irony is that, while you’re mocking him from behind your library cards and New York Times crossword puzzles, Dubya has nuclear launch codes. Ahem. I mean “nook-ya-lur” launch codes. For anyone who has been hiding in a Pakistani cave with a dialysis machine with roving bands of military forces hunting you for the past year, the Washington Nationals is the newly renamed Montreal Expos. They are moving to D.C. because Canadians don’t like baseball unless it’s in Toronto where they call it “American- rules hockey.” Though the Nationals team is still being formulated, the roster of players has been established and it doesn’t look half bad. The uniforms will feature a patriotic red, white and blue color scheme but there is a fear that the uniform designs may get hung up in committee until well past the home opener next April. The Washington Nationals will have an airplane as their mascot for reasons obvious to anyone who has ever flown into D.C., and, true to form, House Republicans are already said to be planning to rename the team the “Ronald Reagan Washington Nationals.” In truth, I’ve never been much on sports –- though I like to watch it. My favorite, for obvious reasons, is women’s beach volleyball. It’s competitive, it’s artful and there is always the chance that you’ll see something you’re not supposed to see on broadcast television. In a way, it is a sport that rewards hope, optimism and breathless staring –- everything we should expect from a global superpower suffering from obesity. But, compared to beach volleyball, baseball is a close second. It’s America’s pastime and has a long and storied history throughout the past 15 decades, mirroring the nation’s own development since the Civil War. Original teams like the Boston Red Stockings and the Manhattan Big Front- Wheeled Velocipedes gave way to more modernized team names like the BoSox and the D-Backs -- a team, I’m told, very proud of its Big Unit. There are many terms to know, if one is to keep up with the sport. A friend of mine recently told me I know nothing about baseball. Not true. I know about "strikes"... which is when baseball players refuse to go to work.. and "balls," which is what you have to have when you’re a millionaire who goes on strike... and "bats," which is what people who don’t like baseball are. So, to you who delight in spreading rumors that I know nothing of baseball, I say you are wrong. You are bats. My secret weapon is baseball lingo. I'm very in tune with the language of baseball, and one must be to succeed in this most American of sports. From what I recall from my glory days in Little League, when a baseball player steps up to the plate, he is called a "batman." If he steals bases, he is known as a "robin," because he is a- robbin' the other team of their bases. A batman who succeeds in rounding all the bases is known as a "rounder" and, finally, when he returns to the dugout, he is known as a "dugback." There is a wealth of terms in baseball, also known as “the sweet science,” and this is to be expected of a game that originated nearly two centuries ago. I encourage you to watch a baseball game and learn some yourself. Despite its age, baseball remains a very youthful game. It makes every fan young at heart, and keeps our Nation vibrant and fresh. It is to the American heart as Febreze is to the old couch. Every spring -- the season of renewal -- America waits anxiously to hear the first crack of the batman’s bat against the small white ball hurled at the man with his face in a cage (Alexandre Dumas would be so proud!)… the smell of freshly cut grass in the outfield, the odor of the redneck sitting next to you drinking beer in a wifebeater… the senses fairly reel at the sensory cavalcade that it is. Let's go defense, let's go (CLAP CLAP) Let's go defense, let's go (CLAP CLAP)! If I get invited in for an interview, I’ll definitely let you know. However, if things go well -- and it’s pretty clear that things could go VERY well -- I can’t promise free tickets. After all, we Nationals have a business to run. ------------ About the author: Doug Hecox is an accomplished stand-up comedian whose work has appeared in everything from Reader's Digest to the Washington Monthly. His latest book, "Graze Expectations," is available widely. For more information, visit Doug at www.dougfun.com. Email: doug@dougfun.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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