Slumps

There were forty-six at bats between Alex Rodriguez’ 599th and 600th homeruns.  Forty six! With all of ESPN and baseball nation just watching and waiting.  As a long time hater of everything Yankee, I thoroughly enjoyed this time.  “This is what happens,” I would say with disdain, “when a guy stops taking steroids.” I hope his souvenir ball has a giant asterisk on it.  Or, more appropriately, injected into it.

But enough of my hatred for cheaters.  My point is– everyone has slumps now and then.  And A-Rod’s was really only a blip on the radar.  A baseball player named Bill Bergen went that long without a single hit.  In 1909 he went 0-46.  That’s about twelve games.  Ouch.  Worse yet, think about my beloved Chicago Cubs, who haven’t won a championship in over one hundred years– the longest drought in professional sports.  Think about Dan Marino and his long, illustrious career without the coveted ring.  Think about fans of pro sports in Cleveland who’ve been waiting for a championship since 1964 (and since The Decision 2010, we all know what direction that’s going.)  Or, think about Vinny Testaverde, who in 1988 threw thirty-five interceptions.  Thirty-five.  But every time he threw a pick that season, he got up, dusted himself off and tried again.  And then, threw another interception.

I guess everyone goes through a period of doubt and failure, and I am certainly no exception.  I’ve been in a slump myself lately.  My mind is focused on many other things; and nothing I’ve drank has impressed or inspired me.  So today, on the day A-Rod blasted his history-making homerun into center field, I’m dusting myself off and breaking out of my wine slump.  Enough is enough.

Vintage Barb is back.