Another fantastic finish for the Sons of Pitches, another super start for my hoopin' Eagles

^
Election aside (I'll save my musings on that subject for another time), Tuesday was a wonderful day for a beginning and fantastic evening for an ending.

First, my Scholars Academy Eagles girls basketball team won our season opener. Although we lost a lot of offensive weapons from last season's championship squad, I was thrilled to see that our trademark "outwork-'em-to-death" style is back in full force.

We had trouble scoring early, but we were relentless on defense and just wore down our opponent to pull away in the second half. Our captain, 8th-grader Ritika, has been with me for all four of my years at the school. She controlled the game at point guard and, as is her custom, she nailed a dagger of a 3-pointer to break our opponent's back. She got strong support from Deirdre, our talented 6th-grader who matched Ritika's 8 points, and the rest of her aggressive, hard-working teammates.

It's always nice to start off with a win. You can't go undefeated if you lose your first game!

After my Eagles wrapped up the victory in Rock Hill, S.C., I jumped in my car and drove 35 minutes to Charlotte, where our Sons of Pitches won our second Carolina Senior Softball championship.

We tend to like to do things the hard way, and we outdid ourselves this time. Due to injuries, absences and, yes, a little bit of bad, old-fashioned poor play, we only had a 4-6 record in the Fall season. So we entered the postseason tournament as the No. 9 seed -- meaning that if we were going to win the title, we would have to do win four straight games as the visitors.

We opened the tournament with a 19-3 thrashing of the No. 8 seed. We then took out the No. 1 seed, a team that had only lost once, advancing to Tuesday's Final Four.

In the semifinal, we faced the No. 4 seed, Orange Crush. We proceeded to crush the softball all game long and rolled to a 19-13 victory. I had a couple of hits but most notably got a lot of exercise shifting from right-center field to left-center field and back again.

Our regular LCF, Rick, is one of the best outfielders around. Meanwhile, I'm primarily a catcher who has trouble seeing flyballs at night; I was needed for the outfield because one of our players was out of the country and another was hurt. So when there was a right-handed hitter batting, Rick would play LCF and I would play RCF, as he was more likely to get a ball pulled to him. And when there was a left-handed hitter up (or, in a couple of instances, a righty who liked to go to the opposite field), Rick would shift to RCF and I'd move to LCF.

Our inventive manager Pat devised this strategy and, unlike some of his strategies, this one actually worked - ha! I didn't get a single fly all game, Rick got several, and I think it messed with our opponents' minds to see us shifting constantly.

That win put us in the championship game against the same team that had thrashed us a few months earlier in the Spring title game, the Raiders. Unlike Al Davis' old Oakland Raiders, this time these Raiders didn't "just win, baby." Our bats stayed hot, we jumped on them for 3 in the first and 5 in the second (capped by yours truly's "mini-walkoff hit"), and we led from beginning to end in our 18-11 victory.

The final out set off a nice little celebration that put an exclamation point on an amazing two-year run for the SoPs.

In the CSS, teams are re-drafted every other year, so the nucleus of teams are together for two years. That's four seasons: two Spring and two Fall. In that span, we won two championships (2015 Spring, 2016 Fall) and a runner-up trophy (2016 Spring). The only time we didn't at least reach the title game was Fall 2015, when bad weather canceled the entire postseason. Pretty darn impressive, no?

More important than the championships have been the friendships. We have a great group of guys who pick each other up and cheer each other on. We like to clown around, but we're all business once the games start. (Almost all business. When Pat or Bob shout, "Come on guys, one out at a time," my response usually is, "Screw that, I'm getting 2 outs at a time!")

Peter and Eddie, injury-replacement players who joined us most recently, shored up our infield and brought big bats (and great attitudes) to our team. "Good Mike" (as opposed to me, "Bad Mike") and Doug were the injured guys they replaced, yet both showed up for the final four, coached the bases and rooted us on. Bruce was our resident wise-ass, and also a good hitter and outfielder. Gary, our left fielder and cleanup hitter, has a lethal bat to right-center field. Rick is the ultimate table-setter, a leadoff man who got on base nearly every time and had speed to burn (for an old dude). Jerry, our shortstop, never met a pitch he didn't like; he was especially adept at crushing pitches over his head. Bob was the best first baseman in the league and a perfectionist who, um, "gently reminded" everybody else to do things right. O.K. and Mickey, our two most senior seniors, are still going strong even though 70 has been in their rearview mirrors for quite a few years. Wayne was a good clutch hitter who, importantly, was reliable when it came to going out for a beer. Pat was our No. 3 hitter who pitched superbly in the playoffs after excelling at other positions during the season. And I was the keep-it-loose guy with the big mouth who had a few decent moments at the plate (too few) and tried not to screw up too often in the field.

This was my third season with O.K. and Wayne, and my fourth with Good Mike and Bob, and I've been lucky to be around them for all these years.

And Pat ... we entered the league at the same time, all the way back in 2012, and were thrown together on a team of misfits. We've been together ever since, for five seasons, as he kept trading for me after he became a manager. He loves telling stories about how he traded a blind guy for me -- or was it a double amputee or a dead guy? I'm pretty sure he just kept bringing me along because he wanted to make sure he had a teammate who would be willing to grab a beer after games. As much as I (and many of our teammates) like to kid Pat, he's been a great manager and a true amico.

Lots of teams talk about camaraderie, chemistry and other hard-to-quantify intangibles, but it really, truly has been the case for this group. I've been involved with a lot of teams in a lot of sports, as a player, a coach, a parent, a writer, etc., and this one has been extra special.

Here's to you, Sons of Pitches: great champions, great guys, great friends.
^

He's Back ... And Balder Than Ever!

^
For the longest time, I thought The Baldest Truth only had tens of readers. But given how many folks have asked why I haven't written in such a long time, I now realize that I have many more than that.

Dozens, even!

So for you loyal TBT readers, here's some stuff to chew on ...

+++

Hey, GOP! You're Focusing On The Wrong POTUS Candidate!

I'm not sure why the GOP is trying so hard to get Hillary Clinton in such deep trouble that she will have to quit the presidential race.

If the Dems were forced to replace her with Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren, Joe Biden or any number of other folks who aren't Wall Street-beholden pathological liars, the Democrat's margin of victory over the presumptive Republican nominee would be larger than Ronald Reagan's was over Walter Mondale in 1984.

The GOP should be thrilled that an unlikable, untrustworthy jerk heads the Dem ticket.

I mean, if the Republicans really want to win this presidential election, they'd work a little harder at getting rid of the anti-conservative racist on the top of their own ticket!

+++

Sons of Pitches: Thisclose To Another Title

Our push for a second consecutive championship in Charlotte's old man's softball league fell one game short ... but not before we pulled off yet another spectacular comeback.

A few weeks ago, late in the regular season, we were losing 9-1 with two innings to play and came back to win.

In our first playoff game on July 5, with our coach (and pitcher and No. 3 hitter) Pat out of town and yours truly taking over in his absence, we blew an 8-2 lead and trailed 10-8 going into the last inning. We then scored 9 runs to win going away. (I had a single to start the rally but I also had a comical pratfall in my second at-bat of the inning -- I tripped over my own two feet about half-way down to first base, wiped out and gave myself raspberry burns on both knees. D'oh!)

Then, in our semifinal on July 12, we played an exciting, back-and-forth game with our opponent. We had a bad defensive inning, gave up 5 runs and trailed 13-9 going into the top of the last. But the Sons of Pitches do not quit, my friend. Again, the bottom of our order (which I am proud to be part of) got things going, and the big boys took care of business to finish off our 7-run rally. We got 'em out in the bottom of the inning, with the final play being a grounder to me at first base.

I saw the ball bouncing toward the line and took a step that way. I thought there was a chance it might hit the bag so I prepared myself for that possibility; it ended up bouncing over the top of the base. There was not going to be any Bucknering going on here, as I dropped to one knee and made sure the ball couldn't get through me. I fielded it and flipped to Pat covering -- a knee-high toss that made Pat work just a teeny bit before the celebration began!

Our opponents looked stunned as we high-fived each other, and I gave a thumbs-up to the other Mike -- a.k.a. "Good Mike" -- who suffered severe ankle and knee injuries during the season but still came out, walker and all, to support us. (Thanks to Mrs. Good Mike for getting him there and cheering us, too!)

After about a 10-minute break, the title game began. I was looking forward to the possibility of enjoying a "championship sandwich," with softball titles coming on both sides of the basketball crown my girls' team won last March.

We picked up right where we left off, with 4 runs in the first. But we promptly gave up 4 in the bottom of the inning and we never got the bats going again. Our opponent definitely outplayed us, pounding the softball on offense and making some incredible defensive plays to beat us decisively.

It was a sad end to a great season with an incredible group of guys. I'm already looking forward to fall ball starting next week. Yep, with softball in Charlotte, "fall" starts in mid-July. Should only be about 95 degrees with 80 percent humidity. But that's OK ... the Sons of Pitches are one tough bunch of old dudes!!!

+++

What "Black Lives Matter" Means To Me

The correct response to a black person saying, "Black lives matter," is NOT "All lives matter." Why? Because it goes without saying that every human who has been born and occupies the planet "matters." Black people are trying to accentuate the special challenges they face in a country that still has many issues in dealing with race. To counter, "Black lives matter," with "ALL lives matter," is disrespectful and confrontational, and it certainly does not move the conversation forward in a positive way.

It would be like an activist saying, "End Darfur genocide," and me responding, "End ALL genocide." Or it would be like a non-profit group saying, "Prevent breast cancer," and me responding, "Prevent ALL cancer."

Yes, everybody wants to end genocide everywhere and to prevent all forms of cancer. But these folks are trying to call attention to THEIR issues and circumstances.

That having been said, there is no valid reason to incite violence in the name of Black Lives Matter. Doing so ends up weakening the message and pushing away the very people the movement should be trying to attract.

+++

KD's Not Even The Most Interesting NBA Free Agency Story

Kevin Durant is a wonderful player and a good teammate. He will fit in with the talented Warriors and help them achieve greatness again. And I don't think choosing to join a juggernaut makes him any less of a man, as Charles Barkley implied. (Yes, the same Chuck who whined and threatened his way out of both Philly and Phoenix so he could play with championship contenders is criticizing KD for taking advantage of free agency to improve his lot.)

I'm not amazed that Durant was coveted by every team. Nor am I amazed by the big deals signed by the likes of Dwyane Wade, Mike Conley, Nicolas Batum, Al Horford and Andre Drummond.

You want amazing? How 'bout these contracts:

Matthew Dellavedova, Bucks, $38.4 million.

Jordan Clarkson, Lakers, $50 million.

Ryan Anderson, Rockets, $80 million.

Jon Leuer, Pistons, $42 million.

Timofey Mozgov, Lakers, $64 million.

Mirza Teletovic, Bucks, $30 million.

Ian Mahinmi, Wizards, $64 million.

Tyler Johnson, Heat, $50 million.

Talk about a Who's Who of What The Hell?

Meanwhile, ex-Bulls Joakim Noah and Luol Deng each scored a 4-year, $72 million contract, Noah from the Knicks and Deng from the Lakers. That wouldn't be so crazy ... if it were 2011.

The Lakers, coming off their worst season ever, somehow came to the conclusion that the road to salvation was committing $186 million to Deng, Clarkson and Mozgov.

But I guess I understand. To win an NBA title you've got have three great players.

Jordan-Pippen-Grant ... Bird-McHale-Parish ... Curry-Thompson-Green ... James-Wade-Bosh ... and now Deng-Clarkson-Mozgov.

+++

My Kind Of Camp: No Mosquitoes, No Sunburn!

A great group of girls, including four players from last season's championship team, participated in my third annual basketball camp at the Scholars Academy gym.

I give all credit to my assistant Sholeh, a recent Scholars graduate as well as our All-Conference, co-MVP guard. It's easy to stay humble when a 14-year-old girl can shoot 14 times better than I can!

+++

Cubbies Stagger Into All-Star Break

The first month of the season, the Cubs looked like the 1927 Yankees. The last month, they looked like the 1962 Mets.

The real 2016 Cubs are somewhere in between those extremes, probably closer to being a very good team than a very bad ballclub. But it says here that, in the end, they will be only good enough to break their fans' hearts ... again.

Hey, Cleveland, you wanna talk about futility for the ages? Cubbie fans will show you futility for the ages! Give them a call when you get to 108 years (and counting).

+++

Writing for $$$, Not For Giggles & Snorts

Although I haven't been blogging, I have been doing plenty of writing -- mostly for the investing Web site Seeking Alpha. My latest article, which has generated 25,000 page-views and nearly 900 comments, is HERE.

I'm especially proud of the gratuitous Trump reference. Hey, page-views don't grow on trees, and I get a penny per click!! I'm now the site's top-ranked writer in the Dividend Investing Strategy category, with almost twice as many readers as the No. 2 ranked author.

And you thought I was just another pretty face.

Speaking of which ...

I recently did a podcast with a Seeking Alpha colleague, my first venture into that medium. I always thought I had a face for radio.

+++

That's all for now, kiddies. I'll try to return to these parts in less than 3 months.
^

Kasich was reasonable and Fiorina was fiery, but only one GOP name seems to matter (Spoiler alert: It isn't Marco Rubio)

^
The debate opened with CNN's Jake Tapper asking Donald Trump to comment on a negative comment Bobby Jindal had made about him. So, naturally, Trump responded by blasting Rand Paul.

So you knew it was going to be a fun night.

Before it was over, John Kasich -- the closest the Republicans have to an actual adult male in this whole shebang -- was admonishing his colleagues for their childishness, Paul was calling Trump sophomoric and Jeb Bush was loudly demanding that Trump to apologize to his wife for some perceived slight.

Mike Huckabee's explanation for his defense of the thrice-divorced, homophobe, whack-job Kentucky clerk was ridiculous, but then again he's just trying to land a better TV gig because he knows he has slightly less chance at the presidency than my dog Simmie. Chris Christie, who knows he will never live down hugging President Blackie McBlackerson during the aftermath of Superstorm Sandy, failed to impress. Marco Rubio made a cute little joke about his hydration situation but was stiff and overly intense whenever he talked about policy. Scott Walker, my fellow Marquette alum (although he's the one who didn't graduate), is such a lightweight.

Bush, Walker and Paul tried to go back at Trump, but he swatted them away as if they were insects and he was an orange-haired beast.

Carly Fiorina emerged as the star of the debate. She zinged Trump good once, had all of her talking points lined up neatly in a row, drew raucous applause for her takedown of Planned Parenthood, showed some emotion when talking about her stepdaughter who died of drug addiction and had the best answer on the throw-away "woman on $10 bill" question. (The latter wasn't really fair, as she was the only one who could correctly label it a token gesture without getting in trouble for disparaging women.)

She also was one of the many loud voices in the Obama Is Wrong About Iran Tour.

I actually like Fiorina, but she has a pretty big problem: As the CEO of Hewlett-Packard, she oversaw a financial trainwreck. Years after the company sent her hewlett packing, it is STILL laying off tens of thousands employees. And she's supposed to be the one with the business acumen?

Trump was Trump. After getting called out for his offensive remarks about Fiorina's looks, he was at his patronizing best by saying she has a beautiful face. Big "ick" factor there. He tried to bully Bush, Paul, Scott Walker and even those who weren't there. He offered nothing of substance, as usual, and came across as an arrogant jerk, as usual.

So you know what will happen, right? He'll shoot up another 5% in the polls.

The Trumpster could call the Pope's robe "a stooopid gown" and could follow that up by urinating on little Scotty Walker's head, and he'd probably move up 10% more! It's the damnedest thing, no?

Ben Carson continued to play the role of the anti-Trump: soft-spoken, understated, calm. But he does share one thing with the Trumpster: He has no realistic plan on any issue. Of course, in this Year of the Outsider, he's running second in the polls.

As a pacifist who really hates getting involved in every other country's wars, I happen to agree with most of Paul's stances on that subject. But Republicans love a good war or two or 10 or 100, so he has no freakin' chance. (He actually has no chance for many reasons, but that's a biggie.)

Kasich remains the one Republican I'd consider voting for. He actually answered questions he was asked, talked about his many accomplishments, displayed great restraint on the Iran situation and discussed some of his goals and ideas.

The Ohio governor, who almost surely would win a state the GOP will need to recapture the presidency, again sounded intelligent, reasonable, confident and competent.

All of which probably will work against him in this crazy race.

---

I had an interesting softball game Tuesday.

First, I thought it started at 7:45 and got there at 7:15. I went to the schedule to see which field we were on, only to see that our game actually was at 8:45. So I had a LOT of time to warm up.

One of the things I did while warming up was take the bat out of our manager's bag, swing it a dozen or so times and then put it back. I later found out that I put it in the wrong bag, and so far it still hasn't been returned to Pat. Slick move, Mike.

Also before the game, I told Pat that this would be my last appearance for awhile because I am undergoing hernia surgery next week. He did a nice job of telling me how much I'll be missed, even if he had to make it up!

Once the game started, things went well. We went up 3-0 and, even after we messed up some in letting our opponents go ahead 5-3 in the bottom of the inning, we came right back to tie it at 5 in the second. I had a line-drive hit up the middle and scored in that inning.

As the game went on, though, we played quite poorly and ended up losing 18-10. Playing second base, I made a diving stop of a grounder and a decent scoop of a low throw by the pitcher, but I also didn't pursue a pop-up behind first base aggressively enough and it fell for a hit. I got an RBI single to right and drew a walk, but I ended the game by taking Strike 3.

Yep, I started the game by losing my manager's bat and ended it by not swinging the bat I was using. Ugh.

Here's hoping that Pat gets his bat back and that the Sons of Pitches get back to our championship form before I come back in 4-6 weeks.
^

Nadel is back, Nadal is out

^
Softball players ... baseball players ... cricket players ... whoever:

One thing you most definitely do NOT want to do is copy this batting stance!!

But I do have the legs for those shorts, no?!?!

It took me 6 1/2 weeks and two tries, but I finally made my triumphant return from shoulder surgery a few days ago as our defending champion Sons of Pitches cruised to an 18-6 victory. I had a couple of hits, including a two-run single as we broke open the game.

I actually had returned one week earlier but we lost in extra innings, and I even struck out ... which isn't easy to do in slow-pitch softball. But hey, I had an excuse!

It's great to be back with the best teammates in the world, and we are now 4-1 in Fall League play.

-----

In totally unrelated news, the U.S. Open just got a little less fun for me, as Rafael Nadal -- a.k.a. My Rich Son -- was eliminated by some Italian dude named Fabio Fognini in a stirring third-round match that kept me up until nearly 2 a.m. Friday.

Rafa had been 151-0 in majors when holding a two-set lead. He also had won at least one major title in 10 straight years. Both of those distinctions are now history.

Obviously, age has done more than creep up on my man. It has ambushed him and left him in the gutter.

Yep, it's no fun turning 29!
^

Fun With Numbers

^
Here are some of the more interesting statistics and numbers I've seen (or experienced) recently ...

0-for-39

Shaq Thompson, a linebacker from the University of Washington who last week was the Carolina Panthers' No. 1 draft pick, also once was enough of a baseball prospect to have been selected by the Red Sox in the 18th round of the 2012 MLB draft.

In his very brief professional baseball career, however, Thompson arguably put up the ugliest statistical line in the sport's history.

In 13 Gulf Coast (Rookie) League games, Thompson went hitless in 39 at-bats -- with an incredible 37 strikeouts. He did draw 8 walks ... so in 47 plate appearances, he put the ball in play in fair territory exactly twice. Twice!

No wonder he's now an ex-baseball player. Michael Jordan was Babe Ruth compared to this guy.

^^^

4-0

That's the record of the mighty Sons of Pitches so far this season.

I'm not hitting squat (although I've got more hits than Shaq Thompson had), and I'll blame my bum shoulder for that (gotta have an excuse, right?), but I'm still having a blast being part of this talented and fun group of fellow 50-and-overs.

Maybe we'll do what Kentucky couldn't!

^^^

13

In his first game at Davidson College, Stephen Curry committed 13 turnovers. Folks had to be wondering if Wildcats coach Bob McKillop had lost his mind offering the skinny son of Dell Curry a scholarship. Winthrop had been Steph's only other Division I suitor.

I guess McKillop's decision ended up working out all right for Davidson, for Curry and for the Golden State Warriors. Steph was just named NBA MVP.

Here's what I wrote shortly before the 2009 draft:

NBA teams are in love with the potential of Spanish teen Ricky Rubio, who is expected to be either the second or third player drafted Thursday. 

Well, he might be the goods. Or he might not be. Nobody really knows.

Give me Stephen Curry. He can handle the ball, he's an excellent passer and he'll be a big-time 3-point shooter.

A stiff breeze could carry Curry into the next county, true, but we know he has a lot of game.

Can anybody really say as much about Ricky Rubio?

When healthy, Rubio has been a pretty good NBA point guard. Much to the chagrin of the Timberwolves and their fans, however, he hasn't been Steph Curry -- truly one of the great shooters ever to lace up a pair of sneakers.

Hey, even I get one right every now and then.

^^^


$99.95

The amount of money I'm very proud to say I didn't spend to watch Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao paw at each other for 36 minutes.

For one thing, I wasn't going to give a serial woman-beater and reprehensible human being like Mayweather one dime of my money.

For another, I used to love boxing years ago but I can't get into such barbarism now. I guess I've gone soft, and not just in my belly.

^^^

26-14-13

That was Blake Griffin's box-score line in the Clippers' Game 1 playoff victory at Houston.

L.A. needed its all-star forward to come through big-time with Chris Paul being unable to play due to a hamstring injury, and he delivered as the Clips stole home-court advantage from the Rockets

Will this be the year Griffin and the talented Clippers finally realize their potential? I am rooting for them -- and my old Marquette friend, Glenn Rivers (we didn't call him Doc back then). I hope Paul gets back in the lineup soon.

Those who say they "hate" the NBA for whatever reason, and therefore refuse to watch it, recently missed an instant sports classic: Game 7 from the Clippers-Spurs series.

Playing on one leg, Paul was incredible. He scored 27 points, including a last-second circus shot to win the game (and the series) in a performance every bit as impressive as Jordan's "food poisoning game."

Yes, your average January NBA regular-season game can be a bore, but playoff basketball is often sensational. These guys very well might be the best athletes in the world. Add in the motivation of a possible championship, and it's pretty special stuff.

^^^

60,000

Thanks to good initial readership, and then to links imbedded in subsequent articles, my Dec. 17 piece for the investing Web site Seeking Alpha just passed the 60,000 page-view mark.

I used to reach hundreds of thousands of readers back in my sportswriting days, so I'm not getting overly excited about this milestone. Still, 60K is a pretty big number for a single article on most financial sites. It's almost twice as many as any other article I've written has received.

I get paid per page-view, and the money I'll get from that article will help fund the new siding I just found out our house needs.

It's hard to beat that for a fun way to spend one's money! But hey, at least I didn't give any of it to Floyd Mayweather.

^^^

0

The number of declared presidential candidates for whom I want to vote.

If these men and women are supposed to be our best and brightest, that's pretty effin' depressing.

^

THE JOY OF SIX: The Masters, the presidential race and the return of the Sons of Pitches

^
6. How 'bout that Jordan Spieth, huh? Every time Phil Mickelson or Justin Rose or anybody else drew within a few strokes of him at the Masters, the 21-year-old Texan would birdie the next couple of holes and re-open a commanding lead. He ended up breaking a bunch of records and tying Tiger Woods' mark for best Masters score ever. Pretty impressive.

I know that I'm looking forward to many years of him dueling with Rory McIlroy, the reigning king who is only 25 himself. Then again, I remember Tiger and Sergio Garcia going toe-to-toe as youngsters in the 1999 PGA Championship at Medinah and thinking, "Wow, it's gonna be fun watching these guys go at each other for the next decade or two."

How has that worked out?

^^^

5. At one point, CBS showed a list of the last 10 Masters champions -- reminding me that the one and only Masters I ever covered (or ever will cover) was won by the "least good" (to borrow a phrase from former Bears coach Dick Jauron) champion in decades. Maybe ever.

Despite shooting a 75 in the final round, Trevor Immelman beat a field that never really showed up. Woods tried to rally but got no closer than 3 strokes. Immelman hasn't won since and, since 2012, he has missed the cut more than he has made it. In 10 starts so far this year, he has made the cut twice.

Trevor Freakin' Immelman won "my" Masters. But hey, at least the weather was perfect and I got to see a golf course that actually exceeded my very lofty expectations.

^^^

4. It seems almost impossible that the race for the GOP presidential nomination could top 2012 for sheer craziness, but the candidates are off to a running start.

Ted Cruz is an absolute loony, which is fitting because he was born in Canada (unlike our current Kenya-born president). Rand Paul is supposed to be a Libertarian but he already is sucking up to the far right. Chris Christie just came out with Social Security reform that looks suspiciously like a liberal re-distribution plan. Marco Rubio is backtracking from his compassionate immigration policy because to the party base, there is no room for compassion in an immigration policy.

I already miss Herman "9-9-9" Cain, Rick "Oops" Perry, Mitt "47 Percent" Romney and Newt "I Guarantee $2.50 Gas" Gingrich.

And isn't there anything anybody can do to get Michele Bachmann to run again? She just predicted that Barack Obama's Iran policy would result in the End Times and usher in Jesus' return to earth, saying: "I believe the Bible is true. And believe what the Bible says is  that our nation and the people of our nation will reap a whirlwind, and we could see economic disasters, natural disasters."

I don't remember any mention of the U.S. of A. in either testament, but I admit I'm no biblical scholar.

^^^

3. Meanwhile, Hillary Clinton finally stopped delaying the inevitable and announced online that she would be running for the Democratic nomination.

She's a piece of work, too. She actually might be a bigger liar storyteller than her hubby.

It's gonna be a fun 17 months until November 2016.

^^^

2. The Cubs paid $155 million to a left-hander who gets the yips every time he thinks about throwing to first to hold the runner. In Jon Lester's last start, he threw one so far over the first baseman's head it almost landed in the stands. It's the damnedest thing. So Cubbie.

Fortunately for the Cubs, the right fielder chased down the baseball and gunned the runner out at third base.

Obviously, it was a set play orchestrated by Joe Maddon, the latest Savior Skipper who for sure will take the Cubbies to the pennant.

^^^

1. My over-50 softball league's season has begun and I'm thrilled to be back with the Sons of Pitches. Our manager/pitcher, Pat, traded for me because he knows I'm the ultimate softball stud. Either that or he just wanted to be sure he had somebody to drink with after games. (OK, I guarantee it's not the "stud" thing.)

Pat and I entered the league as teammates in 2012 and played one season with the Blue Thunder. He decided to become a manager the following year and traded for me. The Sons of Pitches capped a very nice two-year run by winning the '14 fall championship, but then in accordance with league rules, we (and all other teams) were broken up for the league-wide re-draft.

For the SoP's latest incarnation, Pat did a nice job of getting 5 of us back together, as Pat and I are joined by Bob, Spike (the other Mike) and Wayne. Our 8 teammates seem like great guys and fine players. Definitely a fun group. I'd list 'em all here by name but I'm still getting to know them.

Our season started Tuesday and we promptly gave up the maximum 5 runs in the top of the first inning. It was a delightful combination of booted grounders, errant throws, walks and other assorted miscues. We only managed one run ourselves and gave up a couple more runs over the next 3 innings to fall behind 7-1 going into the bottom of the 4th.

Pat, who fancies himself as quite the motivator, yelled, "Do you guys wanna win or what?" Duly inspired, we scratched out 3 runs to make it a 7-4 game. We held our opponent scoreless in the fifth and I led off the bottom of the inning.

While coaching third base earlier in the game, I had a brief conversation with the opposing third baseman. He had a great glove and a gun for an arm, but he told me he was having knee problems and wouldn't be able to move very well. I joked that I was going to lay down a bunt.

Now, bunting isn't allowed in slow-pitch softball ... but swinging bunts are another story. I took a mighty cut and the ball traveled all of about 15 feet down the third-base line. Using my cheetah-like speed -- I mean, there's nothing faster than a bald, slightly chunky, 50-something Jewboy -- I beat out the infield hit.

"Real" hits -- the kind that actually leave the infield -- followed, one after the other, and by the time the 5th inning was over, we had an 8-7 lead. The umpire's timer went off during the inning, meaning the 6th would be the last. Pat retired the first two batters before giving up a hit, but he stranded the tying run by inducing a come-backer. After he threw to first, it was time to head to the bar.

There's nothing wrong with winning ugly, because there's no such thing as losing pretty.

The Sons of Pitches are back, baby!
^