America's Pastime

The stadium
a communal cathedral

a place to gather
and in our togetherness
are we focused
on the moment
the present time

the wind

the grass

each other

and of course

the game

a celebration

not of past or future

not of outcomes or potentials

but only the glorious

and ever unfolding

Now

Sox Park

Memory is unreliable
its the stories
we tell ourselves

but that doesn't negate

its value or meaning

its ability

to shape us

My first ball game

(from what I remember)

was at the old Comiskey

demolished in 1991

My first ball game

(from what I remember)

was Bo Jackson's last game

which was in 1993

I remember him hitting a home run

at his last at bat

and the crowd roaring

the fireworks exploding

Whenever it was

whether I've conflated

or embellished or even

created whole cloth

that doesn't change

my connection

to the city of Chicago

to the Chicago White Sox

to Sox Park

The Great Equalizer

parental relations are

by nature

complicated

so those times

that are good

really purely good

have real weight

and importance

for my dad and I

sport

seems to be

the great equalizer

we went to the Bulls game

and start to finish

stem to stern

it was simply

a lovely night

just fun

just pleasant

enjoyment

of where we were

who we were with

and what we were doing

sounds basic

but in my experience

rare

Aldo's First Game

As I attempted
to explain to my nephew the rules
I am reminded
of the White Sox games
my dad took me to
and did the same
I am reminded

of a story my Aunt Anne likes to tell

about my Uncle John 

before he passed

explaining football to me

as a toddler

watching a Bears game

and telling her

"He gets it!"

I am reminded

of a story my dad likes to tell

about listening to a Black Hawks game

with his dad

driving home from a trip

weeks before my grandfather passed

I am reminded

that sport

and togetherness

can heal

or at least

offer respite

'F1 Movie' A Review

 F1 is a sports drama about a struggling Formula One team owned by Ruben(Javier Bardem) who, in a last ditch effort to avoid a forced sale, enlists his former teammate and wandering savant driver Sonny(Brad Pitt). Sonny has to reacquaint himself with F1 and learn to get along with his team- primarily up-and-coming talent Joshua(Damson Idris) and tech director Kate(Kerry Condon).

Pitt brings his patented movie star charm and ease and it works well if not pitch perfect like his turn in Once Upon A Time In Hollywood. Idris struggles a bit to carve out a full character but he's still compelling and a decent foil for Pitt. Condon is wonderful(if woefully age inappropriate as Pitt's love interest), it's great to see her in a blockbuster as she's mostly been turning in great performances in indie fair the last decade or so. The rest of the supporting cast bolster the leads and fill out the movie well, there's not a lot of nuance or depth but this isn't that kind of movie, it's a spectacle blockbuster.

Visually the movie is thrilling, the multiple races all shot with an evocative POV where you real feel like you're there, it's more transportive and exciting than actually watching Formula One racing. The score is simple and effective, the runtime is a bit overlong but it's easy not to begrudge director Joseph Kosinski given how much action there is and similar to his last summer movie success Top Gun: Maverick it is extremely potent at what it is trying to be- a popcorn movie with broad appeal.

Not particularly complicated, a transparent commercial for Formula One, yet a solid, effective, exciting piece of entertainment.

Currently in theaters.

See It.

Michael Jordan Is The Greatest Basketball Player Of All Time Period

 Enough said.

'Eephus' A Review

Eephus is a slice-of-life sports dramedy about the last game of a men's rec league before their field is demolished and replaced by a school.

Sporting a cast of incredible talent of mostly unknowns and perhaps some non-professional actors this 90's set Massachusetts small town is translated intricately, beautifully, and with a profound dignity. Through the course of the game, which comprises basically the run time, themes of time, companionship, ambition, aging, and of course sport are explored. It's artsy in its subtlety but it's unpretentious. A tone poem with humor, insight, joy, and a delicate melancholy. We get a full sense of the characters through their interactions and how they play the game but there is little to no exposition. Most of what we see and learn is on the field, as it should be.

Shot impeccably on location on film(it looks like, could be a digital approximation) it pairs perfectly with the story evoking a feeling of fall afternoons, camaraderie, fun, and a degree of introspection, of meditation, as well as place.

A crystalline, graceful, powerful piece of cinema. One of the best of the year.

Currently in theaters.

Don't Miss It.

'We Beat The Dream Team' A Review

We Beat The Dream Team is a documentary about the college select team that the 'Dream Team' played in practice as they prepared for the '92 summer Olympics.

Through archival footage and talking head interviews the story of the scrappy college students who played the greatest professional basketball team ever assembled on their march to the gold is told. There's not a lot to it that can't be gleaned from the title and it's a times a little hokey but still an entertaining low stakes, small scope, sports doc set in one of the greatest times for the game- the 90's.

Fun, fell good, if a little thin. A diverting flick if no where near the impact of something like The Last Dance or a top tier 30 For 30.

Currently streaming on Max.

Stream It.

Baseball

I don't love the game, never did

but going to the ballpark with my wife and dad

both of whom do, I can love the experience.

As my dad makes friends with the guy 

in front of us as they talk the Sox

as my wife cackles as the fans boo a former Cub

I don't love the game but I love what it can do.

America's Favorite Pastime

Although not at home in the park, more accustomed to the darkness of the movie house, I can appreciate the lush and striking green, I can enjoy the vast camaraderie, the thrill of the pitch, the anticipation of the call, the satisfying crack of the bat. The vendors peddling dogs, brews, and nuts. Kids with stiff leather gloves, old folks in well-worn fan gear. The collective roar at astounding plays, the joyous thunder of the 7th inning stretch.

A may not have a passion for the sport but I do find comfort in the timeless community of the game.

Little League

Behind St. Mark's
Lutheran church
on the neglected diamond
we engaged in our
post-practice scrimmage.

Elliot was on the mound-
my sometimes friend
more often foe-
who had beaned me twice that game,
undeterred I stepped to the plate again.

Batting always terrified me
and I never enjoyed baseball at all
but my dad wanted me to play
and I had trouble fitting in
so I tried, I tried, despite the fear.

My third at-bat
two balls, two strikes
Elliot wound up and pitched
the ball hurtled toward me
and struck my back.

I crumpled, crying
something inside me snapped
and rage, like a tidal wave
swept me up and toward the mound
the bat gripped tight and threatening.

As I charged toward Elliot
determined to pummel him
for his deliberating beanings
I felt more monster than man
but, strides away, our coach caught me in a flying tackle.

Dejected, tear-stained, and ashamed I returned to the dugout.

I never played the game again.

Go Cubs

Since the final weeks of September pervasive and intense Cubs fervor has been growing in Chicago. I don't follow sports and don't find them particularly interesting. I'll watch the various playoffs, the super bowl, or regular season games with friends. I know the fundamentals of all the major sports and have a cursory knowledge of big stars and if I'm in a group of people who are engaged I can get engaged. I also enjoy live sporting events. From living in Chicago I stumble into tickets to one team or another once or twice a year. I can enjoy it but I never seek it out.

I use to feel like watching professional sports was a waste of time. Part of me still feels that way. I don't quite see the benefit, don't understand the attraction, can't grasp what warrants the obsession. But after the Cubs won on Wednesday and Nicole cried for twenty minutes out of happiness and relief I got a glimmer of understanding or at least acceptance.

I may not appreciate sports fandom but I do appreciate passion. I can get on board with people emotionally investing in something even if I don't personally value it. Whether its books, movies, knitting, working out, pets, sports, whatever. Excitement and enthusiasm are vital and invigorating. Ultimately I support anyone chasing after their passion whatever it might be, deriving meaning from wherever they'd like. We must define purpose and satisfaction on our own terms.

So, in the spirit of solidarity and support, Go Cubs Go.

Football Night

Football Night in uhhh...'Merica is a play conceived by Craig and collaboratively written through improv. Inspired by Craig's experience playing high school football in Arkansas. I really don't know what to expect, Craig asked me to do a short interstitial bit so I haven't been directly involved in its development. Should be fun!

Fridays at 10:30pm at iO through October.

Hawks Win!

Onto Clark Street spilled elation.
A woman, green streaked hair, shouts
"I don't care if you don't care! Hawks Win!"
A mass of bodies filled with abandon
clog the sidewalks, lead by none.
There is a threat in the celebration.
Men chant "Let's Go Sluts!"
Danger is ever-present,
violence a certainty.

Honks and screams trumpet
the inebriated triumph
of those Chicagoans
concerned with pucks
nets, goals, sticks,
Stanley and his Cup.

It seems hollow to those not caught by the fervor
but tonight we are isolated and out numbered.
It is best we go unnoticed or stay indoors.

Victory is thick and acrid.
A city crazed by conquest and the Cup.

Super Bowl Haiku

The snow fell all day

Most were entranced by football

We watched About Time

Graffiti 133

"Pistol" Pete Maravich

Basketball is the only sport I got into watching, albeit briefly. I've never watched sports or taken much of an interest in them outside of occasionally playing them myself. But there were two points when I was really into basketball: the second Chicago Bulls three-peat and the 2003-2004 Detroit Pistons. Both had an amazing and compelling cast of characters playing some extraordinary ball. In both cases it seemed like the right team won. Good prevailed.

There's something about the game when it's being played great. Verging on and achieving perfection. Something like dance and jazz and combat. Moments of grace and timing and courage and audacity. The problem is the game seldom achieves that. With all the money and the drama and the egoism the game of basketball rarely transcends.

"The game of basketball has been everything to me. My place of refuge, place I've always gone where I needed comfort and peace. It's been the site of intense pain and the most intense feelings of joy and satisfaction. It's a relationship that has evolved over time, given me the greatest respect and love for the game." -Michael Jordan

"They don't pay you a million dollars for two-hand chest passes." -Pistol Pete

Big Dome

With World Cup fever running rampant, I'm reminded of my high school soccer days. I originally wanted to play football because all I really wanted out of sports was violent contact. I went out for football my freshman year having never played before and not knowing anyone on the team. About half way through the all day practice they gave us equipment. I got pads but they couldn't find a helmet that fit me, my head was too big. The other guys called me Big Dome the rest of the day. I didn't go back.

After the football failure I went out for soccer. I knew the sport and some of my friends were on the team. I was a fat kid, didn't have much endurance but I had a good foot, a good sprint, and I was very aggressive. I was on JV all four years but I played up a couple times if they needed someone to come on and bust some heads.

I brought my thirst for contact into soccer which isn't a contact sport. I would slide tackle and check opponents with little regard for who had the ball or where it was. I vividly remember one time a guy had a break away and I sprinted towards our goal to catch him outdistancing my teammates. I knew I didn't have the finesse to steal the ball so I just flattened the guy. My dad said later "he was suckin' sod." Another time one of the other players was hassling one of my teammates, my buddy Aaron, he pushed him down, checked him, or was talking trash or something. I just saw red, charged across the field and tackled the guy after the the ref had blown the whistle. While I was pushing the guys head into the grass I said "You got a fucking problem meet me after the game." That was my first ejection. I waited for him in the parking lot but he didn't show.

My junior and senior year I held the NIC-9(our division) record for most penalty cards in a season. I may still. The school I went to didn't have great sports teams. Not only would we frequently get trounced on the score boards, the other teams talked a lot of trash. I figured if the other guys were going to win I'd make them earn it. Not through athleticism but through blunt force trauma. I got a yellow card in almost every game and a couple reds.

I don't watch sports and I don't miss soccer. But all the World Cup talk brings back the memories of a couple incredibly satisfying hits.

Graffiti 109

Jimmy and I were suppose to go to a movie tonight but he opted out because there was a Blackhawks game on. We went to dinner instead. Afterwards, walking to my bike I saw this. Signs from the universe.

"A good hockey player plays where the puck is. A great hockey player plays where the puck is going to be." -Wayne Gretzky

"Do you know what my favorite part of the game is? The opportunity to play." -Mike Singletary

Billie Jean King

For most of my life my father and I have been the only men in my family. I have Uncles and boy cousins but they are spread out across the country and I rarely see them. In Rockford where I grew up it was just my dad and I. He grew up with three sisters. I grew up with a sister and three girl cousins. I had an early education in equality. I was taught respect from a group of strong minded, independent women for which I am grateful. My dad also was, and is, a good example of how to treat people.

One of my early memories is watching an A&E special about the 1973 "Battle Of The Sexes" tennis match- Billie Jean King vs. Bobby Riggs. I was very young and didn't understand what I was watching. My dad put the TV on mute and explained it to me.

Dad: Well Stever...Bobby Riggs was this washed up old pro who wasn't even that good in his prime, his whole thing was that women pros could never be as good as men, he challenged Billie Jean at first but she said no so he played and beat this older woman. He was a real loud mouth asshole saying women belonged in the bedroom and the kitchen stuff like that. After that game Billie Jean agreed to play him in a nationally televised match. We were all for her, it was generational, Stever this was '73- Vietnam time, the nation was...it was political, it was more than a tennis match. This was also around the time of Title IX so equality was a big thing for us. We were sick of the old foags running things and we wanted a change, Billie Jean was a symbol. Anyway. Up to the match Riggs was non-stop trash talking trying to get in Billie Jean's head, like Ali before Rumble In The Jungle, except Riggs was no Ali, didn't have the talent, didn't have the words. Billie Jean just trains, didn't let it bother her. The match comes, Billie Jean waxes Riggs. Makes the old man run the court till he can't take it. It was huge. The Lib beat the Lip.

The story and the message stuck with me. This year is the 40th anniversary of the match and BJK is the subject of a PBS Masters documentary that aired last week. You can also listen to a great interview with Billie Jean King on Fresh Air here.