We play for fun and play out of fear.
The fun is hitting the perfect approach shot and the fear is missing the birdie putt. The fun is stroking a frozen rope to left field and the fear is getting thrown out at first. (Believe me, it happened). The fun is being part of a perfect game and the fear is booting a ground ball to spoil it. The fun is sprinting to the end zone and the fear is having the ball stripped at the one-yard line. No one wants to be “that guy,” but one must accept the moniker if this sporting life is to have any piquancy.
Failures must accompany successes for the latter to be sweet. To be unerring surely would bring on the old ennui. Yet the Pope probably doesn’t entertain an encyclical proclaiming an allegiance to Lucifer just to stir up another schism and have some fun. You would think that “those guys” who win all the time must find life boring, but then “those guys” are different than “that guy.”
And I mean gals as well as guys.
Take Melanie Oudin, the Georgia peach who scrambled her way into the mix in the Queens County tennis tournament known as the U.S. Open. She’s one of “those guys” who declared she wasn’t going anywhere but forward. And even though eliminated in the quarterfinals, you get the sense that setbacks mean little to “those guys,” such as Ms. Oudin. It’s just a hiccup on the way to glory.
One hopes that President Obama is one of “those guys,” too. Only the secure are most successful, after all. The world is filled with “that guy” who misses the birdie putt. It’s “those guys” who make make all the difference. “That guy” depends on "those guys."
Showing posts with label President Obama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label President Obama. Show all posts
Friday, September 11, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Admit that the waters around you have grown...
Ouch. Miss Market cares not a whit that Barrack H. Obama is now the 44th president of the United States on January 20, 2009. She answers to a higher mother: Ms. DO RE MI. But because I know she is secretly smitten with me, I'm confident our embrace awaits.
And I can't help but believe that she is relieved that the little boy playing dress-up in a jet pilot's outfit spouting heckuva job Brownie, bring 'em on and I answer to a higher father has been dispatched to his room to play with the Legos that mean only something to him, not the world where fleshly men and women work, play and fight.
Echoing St. Paul, President Obama noted today that "the time has come to set aside childish things." Adults are in charge again.
Chief Justice Roberts, purposefully or not, mangled the oath of office, and the President-about-to-be gracefully smiled and quizzically looked at him, giving Roberts the benefit of the doubt. Good form, old sport.
But on to more meaningful prose.
"What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them"
I heard Bob Dylan singing, Come senators, congressmen, Please heed the call, Don't stand in the doorway, Don't block up the hall, For he that gets hurt, Will be he who has stalled.
Obama: "Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control -- and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous."
Well, here's hoping the prosperous will include you and me in the days, months and years to come.
However, to achieve this, Obama must be a stern steward to gain the confidence of the conservative doubters. In this regard, he should throw Treasury secretary-designate Tim Geithner overboard, a twit in a suit who cheated on his taxes, though I doubt at this stage Obama can do it since he knew it before. This appointment could wound him severely if the economy and market keep spiraling downward.
Miss Market is cruel and merciless, but she enchants us nevertheless. Updates on Kev's battered portfolio after its rebound tomorrow (fingers crossed; the rent depends on it!)
And I can't help but believe that she is relieved that the little boy playing dress-up in a jet pilot's outfit spouting heckuva job Brownie, bring 'em on and I answer to a higher father has been dispatched to his room to play with the Legos that mean only something to him, not the world where fleshly men and women work, play and fight.
Echoing St. Paul, President Obama noted today that "the time has come to set aside childish things." Adults are in charge again.
Chief Justice Roberts, purposefully or not, mangled the oath of office, and the President-about-to-be gracefully smiled and quizzically looked at him, giving Roberts the benefit of the doubt. Good form, old sport.
But on to more meaningful prose.
"What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them"
I heard Bob Dylan singing, Come senators, congressmen, Please heed the call, Don't stand in the doorway, Don't block up the hall, For he that gets hurt, Will be he who has stalled.
Obama: "Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control -- and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous."
Well, here's hoping the prosperous will include you and me in the days, months and years to come.
However, to achieve this, Obama must be a stern steward to gain the confidence of the conservative doubters. In this regard, he should throw Treasury secretary-designate Tim Geithner overboard, a twit in a suit who cheated on his taxes, though I doubt at this stage Obama can do it since he knew it before. This appointment could wound him severely if the economy and market keep spiraling downward.
Miss Market is cruel and merciless, but she enchants us nevertheless. Updates on Kev's battered portfolio after its rebound tomorrow (fingers crossed; the rent depends on it!)
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