ABC WORLD NEWS TONIGHT INTERVIEW ON TITANIC

Showing posts with label sports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sports. Show all posts

Monday, January 13, 2014

Sad Day For Baseball and A Sadder Day for A-Rod

If you have a lot of money then you can get your way in America. Most of the time. But A-Rod might have hit the proverbial wall as he tries to overturn the ruling by the arbitrator  to lift his season suspension. His lawyers marched in but the problem is the judges aren't buying anymore. A-Rod was busted and now everyone knows he used the drugs and now it is really just about watching him try and get all the money that is on his contract. He will probably never play again.

And yeah it is another sad day for baseball. The standard comeback to the pro A Rod forces is "everyone does it. He just caught." Ok. Lets take that it's logical conclusion. Someone robs a bank and gets caught. Everyone does it we just got caught. Ok. Some people may do it and not get caught so does that mean the people who get caught should be let off? How about this one...how great would A-Rod have been without the drugs?

We will never know. He is a man with an immense amount of money and money is power and so the drama will spin out but A-Rod is permanently damaged. Baseball has been damaged but not as much as the man. Baseball will continue and the A-Rod era will be over and people will talk about him and then they wont talk about him at all.

That will be his ultimate punishment.

The Pitcher...Sometimes a Dream is all you have


www.williamhazelgrove.com
 

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Why Our National Past Time Just Isn't The Same

The NY Times had a recent article about our National Past Time becoming less releavant. Seems people  just don't watch baseball anymore like they used to. They go to the games but they don't watch on television as much. Something is up in Mudville. Could it be the doping scandals where one big hitter falls after another. Or as the Times speculates is there something else going on. Could it be we are changing.

Baseball used to a sport of action back in the nineteenth century. It was considered a very exciting sport. One that rivaled the American spirit for settling the country. But now it is our past time. Our kickback sport. Problem is we as a people don't really  kick back anymore. Football is our sport now. Something violent. Something dangerous. Something unpredicatable. Baseball is none of these things. Baseball is a conservative sport played by conservative men. A long drawn out game of chess that flares up and then goes back to sleep.

But we are not a sleepy people. We just don't have the time to kick back and watch men bat a ball around and trot around bases. We want to see gladiators who knock each other senseless. We want to see men literally try and knock each other out. And we crave more. We may have outgrown our own national sport. Our life moves at nanosecond speed now and we have not a moment to lose. We literally don't have time to eat anymore much less watch a slow game of baseball.

So to take a day and sit back and have a beer and watch men in the summer knock a ball around. I don't know. Sounds pretty nineteenth century to me....sounds pretty nice.

www.williamhazelgrove.com
The Pitcher
 

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Interview with Seattle Intelligencer on The Pitcher

William Hazelgrove's earlier-released novel, Rocket Man, was a seriocomic look at the angst of suburban life. His new novel, The Pitcher, has just been released.
Your earlier novel Rocket Man was a harshly cynical look at life in suburbia. What made you decide to write about that?
When I moved to the suburbs from the city, I looked around and saw no one was really making it. In fact, people were not even keeping up, and houses were falling into foreclosure. This led me to question the whole concept of the American Dream and how only a few can attain it. So I took this character Dale Hammer and made him an everyman for each person who goes for it with the house and the kids and the dogs. And of course, he cannot keep up, but he does find a resolution at the end.
Rocket Man reminded me of the works of Richard Ford, author of The Sportswriter and Independence Day. Ford has resisted efforts to compare him with other great writers by stating, "You can't write. on the strength of influence. You can only write a good story or a good novel by yourself." Do you agree?
Yes. You have to write with your own vision, but I must say I was influenced by Ford and Russo. Both men take a hard look at the American landscape and see its dips and crevices and all the pitfalls built into our middleclass culture. When you sit down to write though it is only you and your voice.
Rocket Man started out as quite humorous but then turned more serious as it went along. Was this intended, or did the story simply play itself out in this fashion?
It began as a lark and the voice was just rolling but then the book took on bigger themes. I didn't really intend that to happen but I just follow where the story takes me and that is what happens to Dale. Ultimately he has to decide if his life is authentic and if it is not, what he is he willing to do about it.
The PitcherWould you provide us with a brief synopsis of The Pitcher?
A boy with a golden arm but no money for lessons. A mother who wants to give her son his dream before she dies. A broken down World Series pitcher who cannot go on after the death of his wife. These are the elements of The Pitcher. A story of a man at the end of his dream and a boy whose dream is to make his high school baseball team. In the tradition of The Natural and Field of Dreams, this is a mythic story about how a man and a boy meet in the crossroads of their lives and find a way to go on.
You are not Hispanic, so how is it that you decided to make the protagonist of The Pitcher a Mexican-American teenager?
I am not Hispanic, but I have gone through hard times and I know what it is to hang by your fingertips where everything can fall apart at a moment's notice and the odds are stacked against you. That is really the character of Ricky. Also, I have written novels about African Americans in the South, and it is the same thing. Once you have the voice you have the story.
Have you had experience with playing sports in general or baseball in particular?
I participated in football, wrestling and track in high school. The baseball knowledge came from coaching my son who was a pitcher.
Do you concur with the notion that one's essential nature is demonstrated while playing sports?
Yes. I think you are tested on the field in ways that squeeze out every emotion you have. And certainly the person you are comes through.
Ricky and his mother are discriminated against in their community because of their ethnicity and poverty. Did you draw on personal experiences in writing about this?
I used the racism I see and read about in everyday life. It is not hard to imagine being a minority in this country because every day we see what happens to people who are discriminated against.
In the novel, the protagonist Ricky states that, ".we are equipped to handle all the bad (stuff), you know. But good things are a little trickier." This reminded me of Truman Capote's view that more lives may have been ruined by answered dreams than unanswered ones. Could this be true?
Yes. I think when you are struggling you go one day at a time. When suddenly you can breathe, you look around and evaluate where you are. In a way the struggle keeps you protected.
In The Pitcher, a former pro baseball hero decides to help Ricky, whose dream is a relatively humble one. You novel seems to affirm that a personal dream or goal is essential. But is there a danger when people, young or otherwise, attach themselves to goals that will not come to fruition?
The tragedy is if you don't dream big. Failure is inevitable for everyone, but for you that doesn't mean you should not dream or go for it. Just strap on your backpack and run as fast as you can. You never want to say you did not try.
View the original article on blogcritics.org

Friday, August 9, 2013

The Reality of High School Sports

You go along like I did as an assistant coach starting in T Ball. And then you move along through the In House Leagues. The playing gets more intense and more fun. The kids are starting to know what they are doing and talent springs eternal and you start to think your kid really has something. There are the standouts. The kids who in sixth grade are pounding the ball into the outfield. And then there are the kids who can pitch and have a fastball that freezes kids at the plate. All of this is with Dad Coaches and the parents are way into the games now and people scream because they are glimmering something bigger. High School ball.

And then it happens. Everyone troops off in the ninth grade and the numbers move in along with a reality that just seems so unfair. The majority of kids who have been playing baseball for nine years will not play anymore. They will either not make the team or they will make the team and sit on the bench. The chosen few continue on in high school but for most kids it is the end of playing sports. How did it come to this?

Too many people. The large high schools of the Chicago land area are a good example. The level of competition is such that only the very best of the best get to play. The influence of personal coaching and high priced sports clinics and programs. The parents who shell out the heavy duty cash just have a better chance of seeing their kids play in high school. Maybe it starts with the mentality of travel ball where kids wear uniforms like major leagues and parents again shell out thousands for the best teams.

So the reality of high school sports is that for most kids is marks the end of playing not the beginning. Gone are the days when everyone could get a chance to play. That belongs to a time when there just weren't as many people.

The Pitcher...sometimes a dream is all you have



 

Monday, January 24, 2011

When Your Team Loses

I don't know why but I am moving a little slower for a Monday. Maybe it is the winter that starts to really drag in January with the long slog to spring like some grey ghost that envelops the land with snow and bitter soul deadening cold. Or maybe it is the normal questioning that goes on during the dark months where you count your age and your situation and like a poker player with only so many chips left you wonder why you have squandered so many wagers on losing propositions. Or maybe it is because your team just got bounced out of the Super Bowl by a bunch of cheese heads. Nah, that couldn't be it.

But you never know. Sports are a strange thing.  We forget ourselves for a while and wrap our destiny with the team or the individual. Life is a bet and we bet on the underdog, the come from behind team that will let us know maybe there is a chance. Maybe we just don't like to lose in anything and if you revel in the victories there is no shaking the defeats. And I am not even a sports person, but I went down the road and screamed and yelled for the Bears to stomp the Packers into the turf at Soldier Field with everyone else. They didn't. They got stomped instead.

And still intellectually your day goes on. I''m not getting a million dollars to play football. The day dawns with it's expectations and thudding reality whether the Bears win or lose. But there is something there. A win gives you just a little zazz because you feel that all things are possible. A mediocre life suddenly becomes entwined with something bigger than ourselves. Humans are better in groups and we give off a buzz that is felt by all. Walk into any stadium and you pick up on that energy like a drug. But of course the flip side is once that battery drains it takes the juice from everyone.

So here we sit. Monday. Grey winter in Chicago. All those nagging questions. What am I doing with my life? Why don't I do something else? How did I live all those years? What's it all about anyway? Why didn't Cutler stay in the game? Why did I buy this house? Why couldn't Erlacher keep running and not get tripped up by the quarterback on his interception? I Is there really a God?

Why couldn't the Bears beat the Packers?

http://www.billhazelgrove.com/
Rocket Man will blast off in April

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Dumb Men


A Rod is a dumb man. He must be. Who else would believe the garbage his PR guy gave him to read at his press conference about taking steroids. "I injected myself with a substance for three years and I didn't know what it was and I was young and stupid" He got the stupid part right. Does anyone believe such BS? We expect our politicians to lie but we kind of want our athletes to have some sort of moral code, but of course that would presuppose these are stellar individuals just because they can play a sport that involves a bat and a ball. Let's break it down here. These are dumb men. The old ball players were illiterate as dirt. Farm boys. Laborers. They played for pennies and chewed tobacco and took the games they were given. Beat riding the rails. If they did interviews you heard a yanging sort of accent of West Virginia or Mississippi with a few teeth missing and that buzz cut given in the back of some old drugstore. Baseball players were not exactly at the top of the social totem poll. Bring on television and advertising dollars. Suddenly Slim and Joe and Cal are making thousands of dollars. Bring on stadiums and television now we are in the millions. Now our athletes have to talk for that kind of money and in this country Americans have always confused money with intellectual acumen. That's why we have a plumber running around giving interviews on foreign policy and the economy. That is why we are teetering on the edge of a Depression. People assume that if you have made it materially then you have morphed into an upstanding renaissance man able to speak on a myriad of subjects and that you have the moral rectitude of Gods. Give the man a suit and tie and he can run for President. It is nothing short of amazing that we did elect a smart man who did not have a lot of money. But we fall back into our assumptions with our sports figures. They should be of a different cut. These are men with talent who have made millions of dollars with their talent. They certainly must have something on the ball. All you have to do is watch the smirky A Rod reading the lies on television to realize this isn't so. When the lights dim for old A Rod and he is reduced to signing baseballs for boys who still remember him, he will not go off and read Shakespeare or Chaucer or even popular history. He will simply flip on the tube and watch other lying dumb men.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

American Entertainment


I attended a staple of American Entertainment this weekend: the big time sporting event. The game I went to in Chicago was not a good game. Both teams were at the bottom of their standings. The beginning was a study in light and sound. The lights dropped as fireworks went off and earthshaking sound shook the arena. A large bull floated like a dirigible through the pumped out smoky haze. Then the basketball game started and it was quiet enough to hear the squeak of the players tennis shoes. First time out and a bagel, a donut, and a coffee cup raced around on the giant Trinatron. The crowd simply went wild. People screamed uncontrollably for the bagel and the donut that ran neck and neck. Then the game resumed and we were back to the squeaks of the tennis shoes. Another time out and a man came out and began shooting T shirts from a large gun into the crowd. The place went nuts. Then a meter came on the Trinatron for screaming. The crowd exploded as the meter went into the red zone. Play resumed and we were back to the squeaks. Another time and out five people tried to eat twenty four cookies in five minutes. The crowd screamed in contortion as a fat man stuck the final five cookies into his mouth. Play resumed and we heard the dulcet tones of rubber on wood.

I began to watch the players on the Trinatron. It was more exciting. More dynamic. When I looked down at the real players they looked strangely normal, a bunch of grown men trying to shove a ball into small hoops. So I went back to the Trinatron. Another time out and a giant tic tac toe board was set up on the half court. People lost their minds as two boys tried to put the giant X's and O's in on the grid. Play resumed and everyone went to sleep. The game ended after overtime failed to get a rise from the crowd. It didn't really matter who won. We all came to see something extraordinary and we did. Too bad it wasn't basketball, but as Americans we expect more from our movies, sports, television shows, than just the event. We expect what Hemingway said so long ago: "In the end the age was handed the kind &*%# it demanded." I guess that's what we got.

Books by William Hazelgrove