Play Ball

Hello World, Happy Presidents Day weekend! I hope that everyone out there across this great land of the free and home of the brave will have the opportunity to enjoy a long holiday weekend, with all of the pomp and circumstance that anyone could possibly dream of, from sea to shining sea, and purple mountains majesty above the fruited plains, by George. Of course, the day before is Valentine's Day, and grouchy Christians notwithstanding, I do hope that all romantics out there can indulge in all the jewel-encrusted, heart-shaped, lace-trimmed, or chocolate-dipped goodies that might tickle their fancy - and don't spare the long-stemmed roses, my good man! Speaking of grouchy Christians, I have it on good authority that the actual Saint Valentine was a 3rd century Christian martyr who was Bishop of Terni and Narnia - although how he came to be associated with a holiday celebrating romance is a mystery to me, since his most reputably accepted exploit seems to have been restoring the sight of a colleague's blind daughter. (Other accomplishments credited to him appear to be more of the "man-who-shot-Liberty-Valance," "Silent-Night-mice-chewing-the-bellows," "George-Washington-chopping-down-the-cherry-tree" sort of apocryphal fabrications that revisionist historians love to debunk, and I don't mind saying, spoil a lot of great stories in the process.) But that's the way the ball bounces, as they say, and not always by the way that could be considered any type of improvement, that's for sure. Say, is that Liberty Valance chopping down that cherry tree, and who let those mice in here? Alert readers may recall that Presidents Day is not considered a holiday at the temporary job where I'm working now, which is one reason why it surprised the heck out of me when I discovered that the New York City schools were all closed on Monday the 8th in observance of what they referred to as the Asian Lunar New Year, of all things. Not to cast aspersions on our friends from the Far East, but I have never heard of such a thing in my entire life, and let's face it, that includes the dinosaurs and I celebrating Fire Day and Wheel Day, and school hadn't even been invented yet. On the other hand, everyone knows how February loves to party, or commemorate occasions, and besides Chinese New Year, there's the venerable Groundhog Day, Shrove Tuesday, Mardi Gras, Ash Wednesday, Lent, Valentines Day - and let's not forget Waitangi Day (oh, for heaven's sake, put down that chair!) to keep things hopping. So my advice to you is to get out there and give it your best Hail to the Chief, with all of the Executive Privilege that you can muster, and that's not just the Presidential Seal squawking, believe me. Nowadays, when it comes to February events, the biggest of the big has to be on the gridiron, and how's about that Super Bowl 50 for plenty of surprises, topped with a big helping of I didn't see that one coming. In spite of the sports pundits, media prognosticators, and odds-makers, the Denver Broncos handily defeated the Carolina Panthers, in a game that still managed to be interesting despite the somewhat lopsided score. (That is in contrast to several less-than-memorable contests where the commercials and half-time show were more entertaining than the whole game put together.) Of course, at our house, we were busy watching the Kitten Bowl instead, and taking nothing away from Peyton Manning, Cam Newton, or Von Miller, but frankly, they can't begin to compete with a room full of kittens playing with toys, I can tell you that. This was Kitten Bowl III, and is actually an adoption showcase for participating rescue organizations, with nearly 100 stray kitties being adopted, basically right off the 50-yard-line of the televised event. The Commissioner of the FFL is former NFL great Boomer Esiason, so you know there's no hanky-panky going on there - although between the Catnip Lounge and the Top Cat Teeter-Totter, it was a little hard to tell. But thanks to the likes of Mr. Whiskers, Snuggles, Tomcat Brady, S'mores, Puma Esiason, Wiggles, Jason Pierre-Paw, Cheddar, Rob Gron-Cat-Ski, Socks Fifth Avenue, Jerry Mice, Nacho, Howie Long-hair, and Coach Bill Beli-Cat, a good time was had by all, and I ought to know. I think my favorite part was half-time, when the shelters let their adoptable puppies onto the field with the kittens, and if there's anything cuter than a room full of kittens, it's a room full of kittens and puppies, and that's not just a lot of tall tails, believe me. Of course, you don't have to take my word for it, you can just go right ahead and visit our friends at www.hallmarkchannel.com and watch the videos for yourself. Tell them Prince Purr-Purr sent you. Now that the football season is finally well and truly over, even for the kittens and puppies, it's time to turn our attention south and/or southwest, for pitchers and catchers reporting to spring training camps - and which will be here before we know it, on Thursday the 18th for the local teams of the pinstripe variety. (Actually, I don't believe that the junior franchise has any uniforms with stripes anymore like they used to, and more's the pity, I'm sure.) Hopefully they've got plenty of time to get everything ship-shape before Opening Day on April 3rd, ready or not - although the hapless Mets have already suffered a considerable setback in their pitching prospects, as one of their relievers was banned from the majors for life, after two suspensions for drug use, and then failing a third drug test on top of it all. (At the Kitten Bowl, we call this type of thing "too much time in the Catnip Lounge.") (And here I'm thinking, this is what Liberty Valance would describe as "shooting yourself in the foot," and he wouldn't be far off the mark, I dare say.) So looking on the bright side, there's a roster spot that's opened up for some ambitious lad, and might be just the opportunity they're looking for. I don't mind saying that I've seen Brett Furr-ve throw a mean slider, and he not only has youth and boundless energy on his side, but the team can probably pay him in tuna. (That might sound fishy, but I guess you could say he was working for scale.) (Get it?!) Anyhoo (as the dinosaurs and I used to say back in the old days) also having a bad year is Derek Fisher, the embattled coach of the woeful Knicks, who was fired by the front office after a sluggish 23-31 start, and losing five in a row. It remains to be seen if they start making deals for other players, or try to right the ship with the crew on hand, trusting to some miracle worker behind the bench to reclaim the magic of glory days gone by. Personally, my vote goes to Coach Bill Beli-Cat. Remember, you heard it here first, folks! Elle