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thursday, 7

I see that good ol’ Dr. Gott is back in fine form. I haven’t been keeping up with feisty physician much lately since The Commercial Appeal dropped his photo from his column and it’s harder to find. But this recent message to the ill was a zinger. “Dear Dr. Gott: I have irritable bowel syndrome but my main complaint, at age 61, is intestinal gas. I constantly pass this gas, cannot control it but work in the restaurant industry, which is embarrassing. I’m not taking any prescription drugs and have had no success with Gas-X, Charcotabs, Gas Relief, and other over-the-counter remedies. Dieting has been useless. Can you help me?” And here is what the good doc had to say: “Dear Reader: Probably not. As we get older, all of us tend to suffer from intestinal gas. (Perhaps this was the basis for calling us senior citizens “old farts.”) This problem (the gas, not the labeling) can be worsened by intestinal disorders such as IBS. Because you have obviously been under the care of a gastroenterologist (or at least should be), I suggest that you return to him or her for advice. While you are awaiting your appointment, avoid beans and other gas-producing foods, and try Beano, a product that often lessens the formation of intestinal gas. To give you related information, I am sending you a copy of my health report, `Irritable Bowel Syndrome.”‘ I wonder if the writer gave Dr. Gott his real name and address. I really don’t think I would have. I also think I might have left out the part about not being able to control a gas-passing problem while working in the restaurant industry. It’s just too much. There is indeed too much information out there and some things should remain private. I can’t even imagine why all these millions of people are lining up to see the Pope’s dead body, which is just laying out there in the square in Rome. I know he was a good guy and all and that people the world over loved him, but what good does it do to see a dead body, and isn’t it just a bit creepy to have it out there for a week? It’s the same kind of mentality that makes people pile up mountains of teddy bears whenever a child unfortunately passes away. And the roadside shrines to people who’ve been killed in automobile accidents. It’s all kind of gross to me. I haven’t jumped on the bandwagon yet and obtained a living will, but let me just say here and now that I do NOT want people keeping me alive and on national television if I become more brain dead than I am now, and I do NOT want people gawking at my dead carcass. I want to be instantly cremated, have my ashes tossed, and have a big fat happy hour celebration at Zinnie’s. I’ll leave behind enough money to pay everyone’s tab. But someone does have to take care of my cat. Yes, the little cat I had even before this newspaper started, and about whom I’ve written much, is still with me at age 18. Only been sick once in her life. She’s blind as a bat and crazy as ever. She screams at me for no reason on a regular basis. I have to put a clean shirt on the bed for her to sleep on every day. No, to whoever inherits her, it can’t be the same shirt. She can’t see it, but she knows. And she screams. And she is not particular about where she uses the bathroom, unfortunately, so you have to watch your step sometimes if the lights in the house are dim. And you have to leave the water running from the kitchen faucet at just the right drip. If it’s too low, she screams. If it’s too high, she screams. If you give her a can of Fancy Feast that’s of a flavor she’s not in the mood for, she screams. Do I have any takers yet? No? Well, that’s okay. I’ll just take her with me. In the meantime, as I obviously really have nothing to say, here’s a quick look at some of what’s going on around town this week. Tonight, Tyler Perry’s Meet the Browns opens at The Orpheum. Baseball season’s back and the Memphis Redbirds play Oklahoma tonight through Sunday. Tonight’s Sunset Atop the Madison Series concert on the rooftop of the Madison Hotel is by Amy LaVere & The Tramps. Memphis Brooks Museum of Art kicks off its annual The Art of Good Taste series of fund-raising events tonight with a special Madison Hotel Wine Dinner at the Madison. David Brookings plays tonight at Neil’s. And Tommy Burroughs is at Paddy’s Memphis Pub, which, by the way, is about the coolest club in Memphis now.

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News The Fly-By

Adult Education

Umpteenth time’s the charm?

The Community Task Force on Quality Education was in full force Wednesday as representatives from the city, the county, the business community, and even the school systems came together for a planning meeting. The group, formerly known as the Community Task Force on Funding Public Education, was convened by Memphis mayor Willie Herenton to look at various plans to fix school funding.

I know it’s early, but I’m cautiously optimistic about this group. For one, they realize that school funding is not necessarily “all about the children.”

Memphis City Schools superintendent Carol Johnson said that some people don’t see their stake because the issue is so narrowly focused on children’s interests. “It’s in everybody’s best interest that children get a quality education,” she said. “It becomes essentially about community well-being.”

The argument is often made that it costs les to educate children than to incarcerate them later in life. But that’s only the beginning. What about the potential economic impact that’s lost when a person doesn’t graduate from high school? Providing quality education directly benefits the children who receive it, but the community also benefits residually in property taxes, sales taxes lower spending on law enforcement, etc.

“Those kids are going to be the doctors and nurses who take care of me when I’m older,” said task force member Russell Gwatney. “If I don’t educate them, I’m in trouble. It’s about all of us.”

I don’t think anyone’s going to argue that our kids deserve less of an education. The problem we have now is that we can’t pay for it.

If you don’t mind, I’m going to be selfish for a minute. I like my money. I like to use it for nice things and vacations and the occasional doctor’s bill. And while I understand how public educations benefits the community, taxes are out of control. We have to find a way to fund education that doesn’t cripple our community in the process.

The committee’s next three meetings will be to educate themselves on the current situation. The group was asked to come back to the mayor with a recommendation in 90 days, but that seems unlikely.

“I’ve reviewed materials dating back to ’77,” said committee member Keith McDonald, mayor of Bartlett. “I’ve seen some of the same topics we’re discussing today in all that material. To say that we can fix this in 90 days—it’s a bit unrealistic.

Some committee members wanted to pus their meeting schedule and have a recommendation in time for the County Commission’s next budget. Others were wary of an accelerating timetable because the complexity of the task.

But this is a situation that’s only going to get more dire as time goes on.

“Our fiscal year starts July 1st,” said Johnson. “If we don’t know what we’re allocated, it’s difficult to plan effectively. We have to take the most conservative approach.”

For the committee’s recommendations to have an impact on MCS’ 2006-2007 school year (not next year’s but the year after that), they have to be made by next January.

“For fiscal year ’06, we’ll start planning in December ’05, January ’06. We have to be pretty far ahead in our thinking. Anything that comes later [than January 2006] would be much later for us. The consequence would be a year later because of the way we plan in advance.” Johnson said. “The time frame needs to be aggressive.”

As a compromise, the group talked about suggesting short-term strategies.

“I’ve been to too many meetings where they start flag-waving and Pollyanna-ing and nothing is accomplished,” said county commissioner Walter Bailey.

Will things be different this time? I’m no Pollyanna, but I’d like to think so.

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wednesday, 6

Drama and Activism: Revisiting the Legacy of Black Theatre” is the theme of this year’s Dramatic and Speech Arts Conference, which begins today at LeMoyne-Owen College. The conference runs through Sunday.

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News The Fly-By

YOU’VE GOT A NEWSPAPER…

And you try so hard to write stories that speak to the hearts and minds of the people in your community. And then without fail along comes some leotard-wearing, professional wrassler to kick your dignity in the beans and turn your Pulitzer dreams into a tragic punch line.

Here’s the story as we understand it: Jerry “The King” Lawler and Jimmy “The Mouth of the South” Hart are having a feud with wrasslin’ commentator and producer Corey Maclin. During last Saturday’s wrasslin’ broadcast, Hart announced that The Memphis Flyer had written a splashy cover feature “about Corey Maclin.” At that point Hart produced for Maclin and the cameras a recent issue of the Flyer featuring the banner headline, “Gay in Memphis.”

Plante: How It Looks

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Politics Politics Beat Blog

POLITICS

MAKING BELIEVE

One of the clichés of our time is that life imitates art — a variation on the even older cliché that art imitates life. Whatever the order of precedence, the two realms certainly are related symbiotically — a fact indicated rather glaringly in last weekend’s annual Gridiron Show at the Al Chymia Shrine Temple in East Memphis.

Time was when the Gridiron Show was an unending five- or six-hour affair, put on at The Peabody and attracting a Who’s Who of political attendees. Various circumstances — including attrition in the audience’s patience and capacity for attention — have caused the show to be contracted in recent years, and the change has been, for the most part, welcomed.

One of the consequences of the shorter format is that the multiplicity of subjects covered satirically in the show’s song-and-dance routines has been largely reduced to a single dominating theme, focused on through several changes of scene.

This year’s theme was “Where’s Willie?” — but the sub-text, which was major enough to figure in a majority of the skits, was the burgeoning mayoral candidacy of city council member Carol Chumney.

Chief writer Blake Fontenay was reportedly concerned that Chumney might take offense at some of the references, In one of the skits, an actor playing District Attorney Bill Gibbons (represented as coveting the office of governor) suggests that he and Chumney, as partners in “political ambition,” should run away together. She is portrayed as replying, “Aw heck, let’s go somewhere big enough for both of our egoes.” To which “Gibbons” replies: “I hear Jupiter is nice this time of year!”

And elsewhere Chumney’s love of the camera and of headlines, as well as the possibility that she just might be, in one unadmiring character’s estimation, a “nerd,” are all duly noted. But still: She is portrayed — no small compliement! — by the admirably talented and presentable Dare Pugh, and her more or less omnipresent character is sung to — or, as the ancients would have said, sung — by mass choruses via show-stopping melodies like “Nothing Like a Dame” and “Hello, Dolly” (““Hello, Carol, It’s so nice to have you back where you belong”

Most significantly, Chumney is represented in just the way she no doubt sees herself — not just as a persistent scold to Mayor Willie Herenton but as his most likely challenger and even as the heir apparent to his office.

All in all, the show had the effect of being Chumney’s unofficial campaign launch.

Ironically, her stage foil, singer-actor James Harvey, who portrayed Herenton, is ambitious in his own right. Harvey, a mortgage broker in real life, recently finished a surprising second, ahead of Shelby County Commission chairman Michael Hooks, in the special Democratic primary for state Senate District 33, won by state Representative Kathryn Bowers.

Harvey said after the show that he intends to follow through on that moral victory by running for the county commission’s District 5 seat next year. That race, in the Democratic primary, would no doubt pit Harvey against veteran pol Joe Cooper, who has served notice that he intends to run again for the seat, as he did in 2002. The winner would go on to oppose Repoublican incumbent Bruce Thompson.

And, after the commission race, win or lose, “I might be interested in running for city mayor myself,” Harvey declared.

One other mayoral wannabe, city councilman Rickey Peete, was the featured luncheon speaker of the downtown Rotary Club last week, and, in the judgment of many of those who attended, came off as a solid probability to make a race in 2007.

Playing himself in the Gridiron Show, incidentally, was commissioner John Willingham, who faces a challenge himself in 2002, from fellow Republican Mike Carpenter.

But first things first: Willingham, who has long been at odds with Kemp Conrad, the immediate past chairman of the local Republican Party, had the pleasure of telling off a Conrad surrogate on stage with the line “Why don’t you just get your sorry butt out of here!”

Willingham then nuzzled up with an actor playing new GOP chairman Bill Giannini — something of an irony in that Giannini was Conrad’s designated choice to succeed him.

The Ford Watch — The will he-or-won’t-he saga of Harold Ford Jr. as a potential U.S. Senate candidate wends its way on, in ways suggestive of one of those endlessly deferred outcomes on a daytime television drama, or (for those with longer memories) of the running watch kept in 1975 by Saturday Night Live over Generalissimo Francisco Franco’s ever-diminishing mortality.

Even those with shorter memories can recall Rep. Ford’s prolonged and highly public indecision in 1999/2000 concerning a possible run then against incumbent Senator Bill Frist.

Family matters — in that case the 9th District congressman’s loyal participation in Uncle Joe Ford’s losing 1999 race against Mayor Willie Herenton — helped put a crimp in that prospect, just as the current one may have been undermined by Uncle John Ford’s imperiled circumstances in the state Senate and various other arenas.

Not to worry, says the congressman, who appeared Tuesday morning on Teddy Bart’s Roundtable, a much-listened-to Nashville talk show, and told that politically oriented radio audience that he will so be a candidate. “I’ll run on my terms. I won’t let others dictate,” he insisted.

The congressman had been reported by various media sources as having been active in Middle and East Tennessee last week, appearing on Knoxville talk radio, touring Oak Ridge National Laboratory, and chatting up a Middle Tennessee State University political science class, along with other appearances.

Ford told the Associated Press after last week’s tour that no one had mentioned state Senator Ford’s predicament to him.

Rep. Ford also announced the results of a poll done on his behalf which shows him, as the prospective Democratic nominee, with a five-point lead over Republican candidate Bob Corker, the mayor of Chattanooga, and in a dead heat with two former GOP congressmen, Ed Bryant and Van Hilleary.

Ford recently said in Memphis that he believed both Bryant and Hilleary were more likely Republican nominees than Corker. (Yet another declared Republican candidate is Nashville state Representative Beth Harwell.)

The Memphis congressman’s statements on Tuesday were made amidst a growing crescendo of doubt in party circles as to his intentions and resolve. Only the day before, on the very same radio program, veteran lobbyist and former Democratic legislator Tommy Burnett, told the Teddy Bart audience: “The tag-along game doesn’t work forever. At some point he [Ford] has got to put the hammer down and run.”

Meanwhile, the only declared Democratic candidate remains state Sen. Rosalind Kurita of Clarksville. Her finance director, Kimberly Wood, said last week that it was “irresponsible” of Ford to delay making a formal announcement. “It’s going to be a very big race. We cannot afford for a Democratic candidate to wait so long to get in.”

If Ford happens not to run, other Democrats who have expressed interest include Nashville attorney and party activist Bob Tuke, state Senator Doug Jackson of Dickson, and former Nashville congressman Bob Clement, who made an unsuccessful Senate run against Republican Lamar Alexander in 2002.

Like Ford, another area congressman, John Tanner of West Tennessee’s 8th District, has long been regarded as potentially open to President Bush’s proposals to privatize Social Security.

Until last week, Tanner had been one of three Democratic congressman remaining on the “Fainthearted Faction” list posted by influential blogger Joshual Micah Marshall (www.talkingpointsmemo.com). This is the same list from which Rep. Ford was purged some weeks ago, largely on the strength of his explicit statements to the Flyer opposing the president’s plan.

And the morning after Tanner’s appearance at a Social Security forum in Jackson last week, he, too, was off the list.

“I don’t know how he got that idea,” Tanner said, after taking the stage and stating his categorical opposition to privatization in general and to Bush’s plans for private investment accounts in particular, and in support of the traditional function of Social Security as an insurance program — a “floor,” as Tanner put it — for the American population at large.

Like various other Democrats, Tanner professed himself open to the concept of “add-on” private accounts, not financed by the Social Security tax. But, even on that score, he issued a caveat: “Don’t play the stock market with money you can’t afford to lose.”

The only point on which Tanner might be said to have parted company with the staunchest defenders of traditional Social Security was his relatively pessimistic projection that the system, due to the progressive weakening of the dollar vis-ˆ-vis other international currencies, could face a true fiscal crisis later in the century.

”This country’s budget deficit is the big burden,” Tanner said. “You can’t have a good Social Security dollar and a bad Treasury dollar.”

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CITY BEAT

GOD HELP US

We know that God speaks to and through certain Memphis newspaper and television reporters and columnists. We know because they tell us. What some of us didn’t know, until The Commercial Appeal told us in a front-page headline, was that Pope John Paul II was “Father to some, leader to all.”

The death of the pope, obviously, is a big story. The pope was a leader in a way that, say, Ronald Reagan or Bill Clinton were not. But the leader of the Roman Catholic Church is not “leader to all,” if a leader is someone who moves followers to a mutual goal.

In Memphis, there are churches, temples, and mosques of many different religions and denominations, and there are Jewish, Southern Baptist, Episcopal, and Evangelical Christian schools, as well as Catholic schools. What distinguishes Memphis and Shelby County from other parts of Tennessee, however, is the number of children who attend public schools. With a combined enrollment of nearly 160,000 students, Memphis and Shelby County have more than twice as many public school students as consolidated Nashville and Davidson County, which has approximately the same population.

Calling the pope leader to all or, as some newspaper and television commentators did, a “rock star,” is a symptom of the modern media’s cloyingly familiar treatment of “newsmakers” as stars, whether they be Pope John Paul, Terri, Jacko, J-Lo, Charles and Camilla, Pau, or some contestant on American Idol.

The CA‘s star treatment of the pope was magnified by its redesigned front page emphasizing white space and a single story and color picture. A large photograph and one story about the pope, along with a column by David Waters, filled almost the entire front page of the newspaper on Saturday and Sunday. Not until Monday did the CA run a story giving the barest outline of the controversies in the Catholic Church over sexual abuse scandals, abortion, celibacy, the declining number of priests, and the role of laymen.

Compare that with the one-column headline and subheads on Pope John Paul’s death in Monday’s Wall Street Journal: “In Changing World, Church Faces Choice Over Pope’s Role” and “John Paul’s Charisma Made Up For His Hands-Off Style; Insider or Non-European?” and “Leading 1.08 Billion Faithful.”

All of that in exactly four square inches.

The almost-all Pope John Paul front pages of the CA were inevitable. In the previous two weeks, the paper had already given star treatment to UT women’s basketball coach Pat Summitt (“880!”) and the Memphis Grizzlies’ injured forward Pau Gasol (“Gasol’s Back”). But sports, at least in the minds of some people, is still less serious than death. Therefore, the death of Terri Schiavo on March 31st got an even bigger color picture under the biggest headline (“1963-2005”) since the 9/11 terror attacks. The death of the pope two days later demanded nothing less.

The other trend at work in the print and broadcast media is a variant on the old television news adage, “If it bleeds, it leads.” A little tweaking, and that becomes “If it believes, it leads.”

Face it. Disturbing pictures of crime and war and stories by nasty naysayers are not a good way to bond with readers and viewers in a competitive business. Some of us were too slow, stubborn, and thick-skulled to recognize the role that churches and faith play in daily life. In January, a page-one story in the CA about a woman who died at her husband’s funeral was headlined, “Prayers answered: God grants wish to reunited husband and wife Ñ in death.” It was a sweet story, despite the headline, and it took fresh eyes to do it that way.

There is a line, however, between compassion and pandering, and nowhere is it more apparent than on the sports pages, which is an anachronism because sports often winds up on the front page. It is well known that God and Jesus Christ favor certain athletes and teams. On Saturday, television viewers of the NCAA men’s Final Four saw a player for the University of Illinois pointing skyward at the end of the Illini’s win over Louisville. The Commercial Appeal explained that the player was not proclaiming that his team is number-one. He was “pointing to Jesus” who apparently favored the Fighting Illini to the godforsaken Cardinals. Pointing to Jesus is as commonplace in sports as slapping hands. What would really be worth a story would be a player who walked off the court smiling and pointing to the sky after losing.

That didn’t happen. On Monday, Illinois lost to North Carolina, whose players made do with hugs and handshakes. The headline in the CA: “Tar Heel Heaven. May powers UNC to the promised land that coach pursued for so long.”

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tuesday, 5

Rhodes College hosts The Masters of Kathakali, a troupe practicing an ancient form of Indian theater expressed through music and intricate makeup and movement. Speaking of moves, The Grizzlies play the Denver Nuggets at the FedExForum, 7 p.m.

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News The Fly-By

WATCH OUT, TUNICA

The Arkansas House of Representatives recently approved a bill that would allow West Memphis residents to vote whether or not they wanted to expand gambling options at Southland Greyhound Park. Arkansas representative Phillip Jackson said the new legislation would not allow games of pure chance, such as slot machines, but “only games where some skill and study is involved including wagering on sports events, NASCAR races, even checkers tournaments. Chris Davis

Plante: How It Looks

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News The Fly-By

EVERYONE’S A MEDIA CRITIC

This week, the Fly-Team planned to lampoon a recent front page Commercial Appeal headline reading, “Viagra, its cousins drawing younger, fitter men too: Drugs getting use for `recreation’ in addition to therapy.” Autoegocrat, the quick-witted blogger at Rivercitymud.blogspot.com beat us to the punchline by suggesting an excellent followup to the CA’s hard-hitting experiment in investigative advertorial: “Now available Vicodin! Lowest Price online by 27% Guaranteed! We offer all other popular prescriptions at deep discounts 100% Private and Confidential.” —Chris Davis

Plante: How It Looks

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Sports Sports Feature

FROM MY SEAT

THEIR CHEATING HEARTS

If there’s anything worse than a lie, it’s misdirected love. To learn that your affections have been at the mercy of something less than genuine, less than the ideal that drew your heart in the first place . . . this is the kind of “broken promise” that hurts not only in the present, but with every memory attached to the lost love.

The 2005 baseball season opens this week under a steroid cloud that darkens every ballpark from Portland, Oregon, to Portland, Maine. The allegations, the rumors, the scutiny, the Canseco book, the congressional testimony, the new regulations drawn up for the major leagues . . . all of these dance in our heads as we try and soak up the green and welcome back the sound of bat striking ball. There’s an appropriate symmetry to the game’s greatest player (and among the most scrutinized in this steroid storm), Barry Bonds, sitting out the first Opening Day in his 20-year career. With baseball’s image so torn to shreds, and Bonds so adversarial throughout his career — even before his ties to BALCO and steroids — fans might do themselves right by imagining Bonds rehabbing his surgically repaired knee while wearing a dunce cap in the corner.

Alas, the reality of the national pastime’s current suffering and any hopes it may have for rehabbing itself as an institution are heavier matters than a cartoonist’s pen might capture. You see, the damage goes so far beyond record books, statistics on bubble-gum cards, or Hall of Fame credibility. When Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa appeared before a congressional hearing on St. Patrick’s Day, the two men most credited with “saving” the game in 1998 — remember when labor relations was the sport’s biggest problem? — became the faces (above suit and tie, no less) of misdirected love. Every bedroom of every child that once held a Big Mac or Slammin’ Sammy poster above the bookshelf may as well have received its own scarlet letter (‘S’ for steroid) to be mounted on the door.

My firstborn daughter was not quite a year old — it was April 8, 2000 — when her mother and I took her to her first St. Louis Cardinals game at Busch Stadium. St. Louis beat Milwaukee that day, and I can very much conjure the goose bumps (the gasp!) when McGwire launched his first home run of the season over the centerfield wall. My sweet Sofia had no idea what all the excitement was about, all the people, all the red! But she knew there was excitement, and it found a crest with Big Mac’s moon shot. I left the stadium that Saturday afternoon convinced I’d be telling Sofia about the day she saw a McGwire home run well into my golden years. Now? I’ll remind her of the date, but I’ll likely focus more on the fact she was lucky enough to be in the stadium for the late Darryl Kile’s first home win as a Cardinal.

That damaged memory, that lost story, that silenced gasp is what makes baseball’s steroid mess worse, perhaps, than the Black Sox throwing the 1919 World Series, certainly worse than any boardroom conflict between players and owners that cost us a few big-league games one year or another. Gambling is — once discovered — an overt crime, and the penalties in place are of the sort that repeat offense is well nigh impossible. Just ask Pete Rose. And the labor disputes? As long as there is money to be made, teams to support, the sides will come to grips with their differences.

Which brings us back to the cancer of steroids. The game of baseball is nothing without the relationship between team and fan — dissected further, the relationship between player and fan. Once in uniform, a ballplayer represents a child’s dream fulfilled. When he strikes out, a fan feels his emptiness. And when he connects for a four-bagger to win a game in October, the chills spread like static electricity. But take a slice at the metaphorical tie that binds in this relationship — and like any other relationship, the player-fan one begins with trust — and it’s emptiness that lingers, strikeout or home run, win or lose.

To this point, there are exactly two (former) players who have been outspoken about using steroids to boost their playing career, and one has since died. Jose Canseco and the late Ken Caminiti are pariahs now, but may paradoxically turn into pioneers if their whistle-blowing can somehow rid baseball of this deadly, cheating chemical. It will likely be years (not weeks or a few months as Barry Bonds is hoping) before a big-leaguer hits a home run without the question, “Is he or isn’t he?,” following him around the bases. This is new territory for the baseball purists among us. Just how long will it take before we can love again?

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