Not a ton of people are familiar with the story of Carl Mays these days, but know this much: he threw a pitch that killed a guy once. It was the only time a Major Leaguer has been killed on the field. The whole story, as written at the time, can be read here. In an environment where beer-throwers inspire media firestorms, one can only wonder what would have happened to Mays if, instead of killing Ray Chapman in 1920, he had killed Grady Sizemore in 2009.
Not that Mays didn’t suffer scorn in his lifetime. He never truly lived it down, despite having an otherwise fine career. But time heals all wounds, and some folks are now trying their best to rehabilitate the guy:
Eighty-nine years later, a handful of people are trying to get him recognized for what was one of the best careers of his era, long overshadowed by baseball’s only lethal pitch. Their goal is to have Mays enshrined in the Missouri Sports Hall of Fame.
“It’s time he got recognized for his accomplishments, not just for this one accident,” said Ann Duckworth of Mansfield, the tiny Ozarks town where Mays was raised and spent many offseasons.
I guess everyone needs a hobby, but Mays doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy you want to go to the mat for. In addition to the Ray Chapman incident, Mays was long-rumored to have been in on a plot to fix the 1921 World Series, though it was never proven. He was also an ornery cuss, who many people didn’t like separate and apart from the fact that he killed a guy many people did like.
The Veterans Committee of the Hall of Fame — the real one, not just the Missouri one — is still considering him. I don’t get the sense that there’s any traction behind his case, and that’s probably how it should be.
I realize it’s early. I realize that we have one big election coming up in less than two weeks and that 2018 may as well be 2218 as far as the election is concerned. But it’s probably worth mentioning that, at the moment, Curt Schilling isn’t doing too well in the Massachusetts Senate race.
To be fair, he hasn’t officially declared himself a candidate yet. He said he has to get the OK from his wife first. But as a famous Massachusetts resident, it’s not like he needs to spend a lot of time working on the stuff just-declared candidates do. He’s got name recognition bleeding out of his socks. Which makes this somewhat sobering:
It’s been many, many years since I worked on a political campaign, but I feel qualified to give Schilling some advice: more memes. Post as many political memes on Facebook as Twitter as you can. It doesn’t even matter if they’re true as long as they feel true to you. Right now the important thing is to mobilize the base.
Yep, fire everyone up. They’ll certainly flock to you then. Good luck, Curt.
I work from home, so I end up doing a lot more stuff around my house than the other three people who live here. I do all the laundry. I do most of the cooking. I’ve increasingly delegated chores to the kids, but they don’t do a great job of it and I end up going after them and doing it again. That’s probably a bad long term plan, really, for them and for me, but it’s just how it goes.
However that all cuts, the fact remains: if you leave your crap laying around, it’s going to get washed or tossed, depending on what it is. Don’t get all mad telling me that you were going to wear that shirt that’s currently in the washing machine. If it was clean, it shouldn’t have been wadded up on your floor. If other stuff gets put away or disposed of, well, tough. Your things have places, so put your things in their places.
I mention all of this simply to head off sympathy for Nationals starter Max Scherzer, who almost lost a precious keepsake:
You don’t want your second no-hitter shirt thrown out? Get it put up in a frame or whatever it is you want to do with it. You leave it wadded up someplace, don’t expect it to stay there forever.
Not you go sleep on the couch. Mrs. Scherzer doesn’t work hard all day to take guff from you.