"Now batting...Miissstteeerrr FERRERMAN!!!!"

 I was thinking how great it would be to be a Major League baseball player. I'm not 8 years old again or thinking of trying out for the Cubs or anything like that. Just been thinking it's an amazing job to have, even if it's hard to think of "professional athlete" being considered a "job". But it is and its nice work if you can get it. 

Thing is, it's hard to get. The road to the majors is quite the Odessey for nearly every player. They pay their dues from Little League and travel teams before they can shave, to high school and travel teams before they get scouted and into an MLB team's farm system where the next stop may be- but probably won't be- the big leagues. Along the way, each player is competing with and against the best players from wherever they are from in the states and in the world. If you don't get better, someone else will. There are 780 players in the bigs right now, and not all those slots are open as many are held by solid, proven players that aren't going anywhere until they get hurt or retire. So, it's competitive and loaded with all the frustration and good or bad luck that sports can bring onto men.  

What really got me going on this train of thought was listening to some of the World Champion 2016 Cubs getting together for their 10-year anniversary. I like to think that I have enough sense and sensibility to imagine what life is like for others, regardless of their age, gender or occupation. If you don't think I can, well that's on you and your third-rate mind. Like every woman is an expert on womanhood and no man could ever know what it's like? So, SHUT UP, Mr. MAN!! I couldn't possibly ponder the black experience either. You know- because of the whiteness thing. There are all sorts of limitations, walls and pigeonholes to get thwarted by in life. Your own mind doesn't have to be another barrier.

That's what I love about baseball though. As a fan and student of the game, I get it. I'm allowed to get it. It's good for baseball that I get it. Most of the players, I think, know that. The fans may get on them at times, but without those fans, they are selling cars, digging ditches or dying on battlefields in foreign lands. I think they realize that to some degree and feel blessed every day that their job is to play a game, usually outdoors and in front of maybe 50,000 people in person, and millions more on television. That's their job. How cool is that?

Anthony Rizzo and David Ross are hosting the reunion show of the 2016 Cubs. Rizzo was an All-Star first baseman, mostly for the Cubs. In his career he hit 303 home runs and his batting average was .261. He had an excellent glove and if there was a Hall of Pretty Damn Good, he'd be in it. Ross was a back-up catcher everywhere he played in his career. Clearly, his time with the Cubs was the highlight of his career, even though he had also been on a World Series championship team in Boston. They are great friends, and despite stats, equals. They both played on the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP CUBS of 2016! My takeaway from the episodes I've seen so far is that absolutely every player on that team made that championship happen. The players know that. The love amongst them seems genuine. Every player contributed and mattered. They all wear the same ring. How many jobs (outside of sports) offer that love, brotherhood and camaraderie? None that I ever had. 

A ballplayer could go to a cocktail party and meet doctors, lawyers, professors and captains of industry. But when they ask him what he does for a living and he replies, "I play shortstop for the Chicago Cubs", every non-swinging dick is going to be saying: "Oh...OHHH!!" and asking for an autograph. You just don't get that in most jobs, do you? 

Fame is fleeting in sports. You have to be as good as you can for as long as you can. All along you have to deal with injuries. You are often subject to trades and front office whims. Contracts may be guaranteed (not always) but ultimately you are paid for results. The results stop coming and you start going. The metric of success for a hitter involves failing 7 times out of 10 at bats to be great. That's to hit .300. Hitting a baseball is the hardest thing to do in sports. Don't fucking argue with me about that. It's a fact. The game has changed to where, if you can hit 40 homers a year, they'll overlook that .220 average and all those strikeouts, at least for a while, until someone better comes along. It may be a kid's game, but it's not easy. Nice work if you can get it! And grown men make a living at it!