A beanball analogy

chi-cubs-sorry

I love a good analogy, especially one that I can borrow from sports. Tennis analogies were my favorite once upon a time, which is odd because I don’t play tennis all that much. In order to be consistent, I should look to baseball for analogies whenever I can.

I found just such an analogy today, with the Cubs and the recent flak over the disposal (as in, into the garbage dumpster) of items intended for the family of the late Ron Santo.I wrote a piece for ThroughTheFenceBaseball calling the whole affair “Dumpstergate.”

I’m probably not clever enough to be the first one to coin this phrase, but it seems to be fitting in this situation, due to the level of scandalous behavior involved.

I’ve professed my admiration for Ron Santo before in this space.  He was sometimes annoying in the broadcast booth, and I never really saw him play the game, so it can’t be either of those things that i admired. What I liked about him most was his passion for the game of baseball, together with his efforts to raise money and awareness for Juvenile Diabetes research.

As a Type I, insulin-dependent diabetic, Santo kept this a secret for most of his playing career, out of fear that he would be forced from the game if his condition became known. He had to live with a secret–which could have flared up and caused him to have a seizure at almost any minute–because of appearance’s sake.It seems so wrong that he had to endure that, but that’s just what he did.

Anything that disrespects the life and legacy of Ron Santo is bound to go over poorly, at least in this part of the world. And throwing out cards that were supposed to be delivered to his family is disrespectful, in my view. Whether it was intended that way or not, it seems like there was a different way that it could have been handled.

I came up with the beanball analogy in the piece, to describe an immediate hurt when the event happens, followed by a bruise that lingers for a while to remind the injured of what happened. If there’s a better description of what this is like, I can’t think of it right now.

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