I love baseball. Baseball is just as was said in Field of Dreams, a thing that connects us all to our country's past, a thing that connects us to our fathers and their fathers. Baseball is the American game. Bunting, banners, color guard, even presidents throwing out the first ball, all are a wonderful part of the tradition of American baseball.
So you can imagine that I'm anxiously awaiting the playing of tonight's opening game at Anaheim's Edison International Field.
And you can imagine how horribly depressed I was to see President Dumbya on the giant television screen at Edison Field, as large as any banner ever flown with a picture of Mao Tse-tung or Saddam Hussein.
Why are we, as a nation, so inclined to deify presidents when we fought a revolution 226 years ago to do away with despots? Am I being overly sensitive? Perhaps. I just know I like it when our president's visage doesn't look over throngs of thousands like he's the Ayatollah Khomeini of the United States.
SMALL FOOTNOTE TO OPENING DAY RANT
President Dumbya aside, the Angels now appear to be wearing major league uniforms again. Good for them.