Casey wants me to write about baseball - about the dead ball era and the Cincinnati Redlegs. Train of thought leads me to the days when Kira wanted me to write down whatever I was thinking while we were having sex, so I started writing a very simplified biography of Pete Rose until it was time to come, at which point the biography of Peter Edward Rose turned into a series of squiggly lines.
I got his autograph when I was about 8 or 9 at a long-since-torn down mall in Clearwater, Florida. I believe my parents paid 9 bucks for that privilege. That autographed picture, in a box picture frame, hung in my room for several years beyond that, well-after he retired from baseball and even after we got banned from the game.
At a Chinese buffet ten-or-so years ago, me and a couple friends were looking over the dessert selection. Among the usual jellos, ice cream, and cookies was a tray of unidentifiable material. This material was opaque, somewhat-gelatinous, and cut into squares. Unlike the other items in the buffet, there was no tag above it to tell us what it was called. We were stumped, repulsed, and utterly fascinated. One of us finally decided that - if it didn't have a name - we needed to give it one. So he called it Pete Rose.
We went back to that Chinese buffet many times. Each time, Pete Rose could be found in the dessert section. Each time, none of us had the courage to take a bite out of Pete Rose.
I saw Pete Rose last month at Caesar's Palace in Vegas. He was signing autographs at a sports memorabilia store located in the Forum Shops. Word is he adds a note to every autograph apologizing for betting on baseball. Word also is that the autograph costs a lot more than 9 bucks. The privilege wasn't worth it this time - I turned my head towards the memorabilia shop to get a look at him, then kept on walking.
Last night, I talked to a friend of mine about the possibility of writing about baseball, the dead ball era, and the Cincinnati Redlegs. She grew up in southern Ohio, so she knew all about Pete Rose and the Cincinnati teams of the 80's. She was happy to be talking to someone about the Reds and the ongoing playoffs in this baseball-deficient town. I was mainly happy to have someone to share my Pete Rose anecdotes with.
I got his autograph when I was about 8 or 9 at a long-since-torn down mall in Clearwater, Florida. I believe my parents paid 9 bucks for that privilege. That autographed picture, in a box picture frame, hung in my room for several years beyond that, well-after he retired from baseball and even after we got banned from the game.
At a Chinese buffet ten-or-so years ago, me and a couple friends were looking over the dessert selection. Among the usual jellos, ice cream, and cookies was a tray of unidentifiable material. This material was opaque, somewhat-gelatinous, and cut into squares. Unlike the other items in the buffet, there was no tag above it to tell us what it was called. We were stumped, repulsed, and utterly fascinated. One of us finally decided that - if it didn't have a name - we needed to give it one. So he called it Pete Rose.
We went back to that Chinese buffet many times. Each time, Pete Rose could be found in the dessert section. Each time, none of us had the courage to take a bite out of Pete Rose.
I saw Pete Rose last month at Caesar's Palace in Vegas. He was signing autographs at a sports memorabilia store located in the Forum Shops. Word is he adds a note to every autograph apologizing for betting on baseball. Word also is that the autograph costs a lot more than 9 bucks. The privilege wasn't worth it this time - I turned my head towards the memorabilia shop to get a look at him, then kept on walking.
Last night, I talked to a friend of mine about the possibility of writing about baseball, the dead ball era, and the Cincinnati Redlegs. She grew up in southern Ohio, so she knew all about Pete Rose and the Cincinnati teams of the 80's. She was happy to be talking to someone about the Reds and the ongoing playoffs in this baseball-deficient town. I was mainly happy to have someone to share my Pete Rose anecdotes with.
