Last night, while watching the Buckeyes battle Northwestern on the hard court, I watched a hairless referee botch another call. I could restrain myself no longer. I stood up from my seat and yelled: “Hey Baldy! Get your head out of your ass!”
Kish was shocked, and perhaps neighboring fans were, too. She yanked me down and pleaded that I never do that again. In particular, she said, I should never comment on someone’s physical appearance.
I’m sorry that I called Old Chrome Dome “Baldy,” but I had to get his attention, because he clearly blew the call. His scalp condition was such that I doubt my effort was the first time he had been called “Baldy.” In fact, I’d imagine he responds to “Baldy” routinely, perhaps even when that name is shouted by his mother and members of his family. So why not use a word that he might hear and recognize?
As far as the rest of the comment goes, I encourage heckling at sporting events. If you’re going to don that striped shirt and whistle and judge other people, you’ve got to expected to be judged yourself. If Mr. Clean is going to blow a call to the detriment of the Buckeyes, he needs to understand he’ll be called on it.
I think heckling can get out of hand when it becomes profane (sorry, I don’t think “ass” really qualifies) and violent, but a little needling of the ref is part of what should be a home court advantage. I’d rather be an occasional heckler than a fan who never stands up, cheers, or chants.
Well, Asteroid 2012 DA14 missed us. Having briefly titillated us with the possibility that it would smash into Earth and approximate the effects of a world-wide disaster movie, Asteroid 2012 DA14 passed harmlessly by and vanished into space, going back to the anonymity that its boring name presaged.
Still, Asteroid 2012 DA14 had its impact — even if not a physical one. If people are concerned about the possibility that, at any moment, a hurtling space rock will pulverize our planet, why not just live for the moment? Why not adopt the Epicurean philosophy, and eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die? (Of course, if we don’t die, we’ll have to deal with the consequences of our dissolute behavior, but let’s not think about that right now.)
Jolie Holland aptly captures such an approach with her terrific song Enjoy Yourself. With asteroids and meteors raining down upon us, how could anyone not like a song with the refrain “enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think”?
Scientists say there is no chance that the asteroid will strike our planet. Nevertheless, at 2:25 p.m. EST, the point of the asteroid’s closest approach, the nervous among us will be watching the live NASA feed, checking their watches, and peering anxiously at the skies, wondering if a computer somehow miscalculated at the 10th decimal point or if scientists really can’t determine, with complete precision, the flight path of a tumbling asteroid navigating through the complex interplay of gravitational forces of the Sun, Earth, the Moon, and other celestrial bodies in the inner solar system. Or, perhaps, they might wonder if Asteroid 2012 DA14 isn’t a bit capricious and miffed at having been given such an uninteresting moniker and might just decide to veer from its anticipated path to wreak havoc on the residents of Mother Earth and make a more lasting name for itself.
If 2:25 passes without disaster striking, they’ll briefly breath a sigh of relief before starting to worry about the next meteorite fly-by or some possible global epidemic or the risks of a newly discovered food-borne pathogen.
Me, I’ll be driving to and from Cleveland today. I won’t be thinking about Asteroid 2012 DA14, but I will be worrying about my fellow drivers heading north and south on the I-71 corridor. They’ll be a lot closer than 17,200 miles away, and a lot more likely to inflict injury, disaster, and chaos.