RANDOM SHOTS by The Pistol

RANDOM SHOTS
Musing form the Muzzle of The Pistol....
May 26, 2006
Here's the meaning of life. No, really. Ready?.......It's always a popularity contest.
Prom Queen, American Idol or All-Star Athlete, maybe even the President of the global corporation we call the good ol' U.S. of A (LLC.) is never voted to their elected position by merit. (well, maybe the prom queen) It is almost a fait accompli that the person most popular with the masses wins the contest. Now, this sickens me on a deep and cellular level, and I'm not talking wireless. So, if we're so damn smart as a species, and WE reward popularity rather than facts, or even, statisitics (gasp), who's to say that the Artificial Intelligence we create doesn't also play favorites. Or better yet, have favorites, Now, what the hell am I blathering about?!?!!
Ever notice in DMB that the A.I just loves certain players and hates others, not matter what the statistics scream to the contrary, year in and year out? A mi tambien, hombres.....
I may be a child of the 60's and have way too much in common with David Crosby, but I ain't had the "funny" mushrooms with my omelet du fromage today. (as of this posting) Try as we must to blame it on random numbers, ghosts in the machine, or a glitch in the matrix (game or otherwise), none of that is the case. The game has favorite players, plain and simple. Better yet, it has own brand of the knuckleball, the incredibly random and dramatic moment. And why shouldn't it, we, who created said psuedo-intelligence plays favorites every day. Who doesn't enjoy a good Bucknerian moment in the game of baseball. Just some programable randomness, you may say? Not what the sages and scribes talk about since the dawn of Man. Hand of God, Luck o' the Irish, Force Majure......opera fans know it as Deus Ex Machina. Blah, blah blah, save the religious rhetoric for The White House! Me, I don't buy it. I think the bastard A. I. just has a warped sense of humor, like the rest of us. I can dig that, man. And Crosby, stop bogarting....
Don't believe me? You're already recalling that perfect match-up, when all is alighned in the cosmos and on paper, yet Ricky Bottalico bloops a double to seal the fate of the M's in game 7. (ooh, I love that one) Mark Loretta, 208 hits in the real leagues, bashes 266 in the MBL! Still don't believe me, Jerome Williams is 22-8 for SF over the last three seasons. My personal favorite. Toby Hall hits 80 points higher over his MLB BA. Year in, year out. And those were just the ones I liked. The list goes on. Go on and check the stats!......Your witness, counselor.
Mad as a hatter, you say? Nay, nay. The bloody game has a sense of the dramatic, well maybe the macabre. Think you've rested that platoon .400 hitter enough, just wating for those nasty southpaws to......BOOM, 45 days on the DL! Need a clutch HR? Screw that super-sub. Think reliever with no major league AB's! (happened vs the Fish this week). Hey, not that I'm complaining. I mean, Jerome "Ouch" Williams, 22-8. Holy Damp Rosin Bag, Batman!
What can be done about all this insanity. I, for one, open a bottle of port with some stinky English Stilton before I play the week's games. That way, when Ryan Doumit hits that two-out grand salami against BJ Ryan, I toast the randomness of the universe!!! Why should I worry?
I got Steve Trachsel ready to pinch hit his way to glory in the 9th....
love and randomness,
Pistol Pete
(the bastard son of "Homerun" Hal Breedan)