Dear constant reader (and you first-timers), I’m writing this column from the upper deck of an Amtrak Pacific Surfliner train car, barreling northward, heading home to the Central Coast from the Magic Kingdom, also known as Anaheim.
As the “Big A” of Anaheim Stadium and the industrially staid Honda Center drift farther from view, I think about the statue I saw of a giant angry duck in a hockey mask posing outside the venue formerly known as The Pond. Some images are too terrifying to erase from the mind, and in fact, I won’t even try.
Though I wasn’t in Orange County to catch an Angels or Ducks game, I did visit Disneyland for the weekend, standing in lines and occasionally paying too much for beer. The park, and conceivably the real world outside its gates, was all atwitter with talk of the upcoming Los Angeles Lakers’ Western Conference Finals playoff battle with the Phoenix Suns, and coasting farther along the tracks through Fullerton, I think back to an encounter at a coffee shop near my hotel.
There, the shop’s owner, inexplicably tuned in to The View on television, mentioned a planned protest against Arizona’s new immigration law outside Staples Center during the May 17 series opening game. She couldn’t conceive why a sporting event would be used as a soapbox for politics, and it got me wondering about how those two institutions influence one another.
Whether its’ Congressmen investigating Major League Baseball for steroids or pledging their support for a new stadium to influence voters, politicians have always used sports as way to get their points across and get in touch with the common man.
Presidents Ulysses S. Grant and Teddy Roosevelt both highlighted their athletic prowess during their campaigns; John F. Kennedy used his athletic background as proof of his youthful vigor.
It’s true however that most politicians these days are, for the most part, un-athletic. Some might go as far as to say they’re wussies. Of course, it’s not me saying it, but you know, people say things. That’s why they became politicians in the first place, and not slick-talking cell phone salesmen like Mr. High School Star Quarterback is now.
Of course, there are exceptions. Our own Governator, Arnold Schwarzenegger, is not only a former world-class body-builder, but a Mr. Universe as well. Yes, the whole universe. Talk about pressure.
There are others. Former New York Knick forward Bill Bradley is a U.S. Senator, ex-Tigers pitcher Jim Bunning is a senator from Kentucky, and Dave Bing, a legendary player for the Detroit Pistons, is now that city’s mayor. All used sports as a launching pad to fame and political power, and made smooth transitions into the world of politics. That means sports, when performed well, can do wonders for a politician’s image.
Ever wonder why it’s customary for presidents and other political leaders to throw out the first pitch on Major League Baseball’s opening day? After it happens, replays of the toss are endlessly repeated on cable news networks and analyzed with as much gusto as any bill signing or photo op. When it goes well, it goes very well, but when it’s bad, child, it’s bad.
When Barack Obama threw a wild pitch to the plate to kick off the Washington Nationals’ season earlier this year, he was booed mercilessly by fans in attendance and later castigated on talk radio and for “throwing like a girl.” MSNBC talking head Joe Scarborough called the throw “a bit dainty.” Years before, George Bush the Elder received similar treatment. I remember photos of his limp-armed attempt at a perfect strike more than I do the pictures of him throwing up on the Japanese prime minister. OK, maybe not more, but you get the point.
Despite being a three-sport athlete in high school, and later a baseball star in college, Bush One was frequently saddled with the tag of “wimp.” In all fairness, he was a first baseman at Yale, not a pitcher.
The son wasn’t quite the athlete his father was, though George W. proved he could throw a baseball after 9/11, and people loved it. He also parlayed his experience as owner of the Texas Rangers into a run for governor. As far as his own participation, Bush Jr. was into golf and horses, though I don’t recall ever seeing him actually ride one. He did however, ride bicycles, though not very well.
Once on a golf course, when “W” famously punctuated a discussion of an Israeli-Palestinian peace treaty by saying, “Now watch this drive,” he wasn’t trying to be funny. He was really saying, “Hey, don’t worry about it. This is America, and we are leisurely folk.” He wanted Americans watching on television to see him as their next-door neighbor and work buddy. The kind of guy you could have a beer with.
A similar public image befitted Ronald Reagan, perhaps the epitome of the melding of sports and politics. His slogan “Win One For the Gipper” was a quote attributed to legendary Notre Dame football coach Knute Rockne in reference to George Gipp, a player for the Fighting Irish. To him, nearly every political situation could be compared to a football game, fourth and a mile, time running out on the clock. Many politicians make analogies to sport, but Reagan’s stand out more, I guess because he once portrayed Gipp in film and played a little pigskin himself.
So did Gerald Ford, who was famous for, well,
being our 38th president. When he was playing football for the University of Michigan, do you think Gerry ever imagined he’d someday wind up not only President of the United States, but that he’d be remembered as a clumsy idiot who fell from airplane stairs and could barely remember his own name? Thank you, Chevy Chase.
Perhaps because it’s safer than football, of all the sports, golf is by far the pastime of choice for the active politician. Recently, Republican 33rd Assembly District candidate Katcho Achadjian held a tournament in Nipomo’s Monarch Dunes to raise money for his campaign. I’m not sure how successful it was, but I am pretty sure it won him some brownie points from both the country club set and the average weekend duffer. Golf’s a gentlemen’s sport, but you don’t necessarily have to be rich or good to play it. Plus, you can’t be bothered by anyone while you’re out on the links, which makes it a perfect way to escape the bothersome press.
I’m about to go deeper with a train of thought, but outside of Oxnard, the train I’m riding halts due to a car accident on the track. For some reason, at this juncture, I see the famous photo of former president Richard Nixon in my mind’s eye. He’s bowling in his private alley somewhere in the bowels of the White House. If you’ve seen The Big Lebowski, you know exactly what I’m referring to.
In the picture, Nixon looks like every red-blooded middle-class American on any given Saturday night in that era, clad in polyester pants and a polo shirt, arm cocked back like an Olympian ready to toss a heavy projectile toward an standing army.
I’ll spare you the jokes about Tricky Dick being
used to strikes and frames, but something is missing from that heavily bejoweled mug of his—it’s the world-weariness he always seemed to carry. He appears to be concentrating on one thing only: knocking those pins down. He’s oblivious and carefree, enjoying the good life while the tempests of Vietnam, racial tensions, and student demonstrations rage in the world beyond the Gateway.
And I think to myself, sometimes, maybe politicians are just like the rest of us. Maybe it’s not all just for show. After all, everyone needs a little “R and R.” Even Richard Nixon.
But what do I know? I’m just a bum. And that’s my view from the bleachers.
The Bleacher Bum can neither confirm nor deny rumors he’s running for office. He can be contacted at jthomas
@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in May 20-27, 2010.
