Go, Astros Why I love Manager Dusty Baker
By the time you read this column Wednesday morning, providing you read it, the Houston Astros will either be headed into Game 7 of the World Series (Wednesday night), or they will have fallen prey to the Atlanta Braves, Ted Turner’s old team. I can still remember when he owned the team and was married to Jane Fonda, and the two of them could be seen sitting together in the seats, watching the games.
A lot of conservatives still hate Jane even though she’s apologized for her Viet Nam faux pas, which came about in 1972 when she went north to hang with the Commies and made broadcasts over the Voice of Viet Nam, imploring U.S. pilots to stop bombing non-military targets in the north, as if they had a choice.
LBJ and Robert McNamara owned that, and later Tricky Dick Nixon. The pilots had to do as they were ordered. Anyway, Jane Fonda was nicknamed “Hanoi Jane,” and no matter how many times she has apologized, some have never forgiven her despite being devout Christians on the surface.
Still, why Ted let her get away, who knows. They were married for 10 years, and at the age of 83, Jane is still a knockout.
Anyway, enough talk about Ted and Jane, or Jane and Ted, take your pick. Instead, my main man in this World Series is Astros Manager Dusty Baker, age 72, the second oldest manager to steer a team in a World Series.
Go, Dusty. Go, Astros. Dusty is a survivor. He had cancer 20 years ago, and he had a stroke seven years ago. Yet here he is, still plying his trade in a pressure-cooked job.
His baseball resume is more than a little impressive. He’s spent 22 years as a manager; 16 years as a player in the MLB; has gone to the World Series three times, helping win the 1981 Series with the Dodgers as a player.
Go, Dusty, go. Talk about credentials. He defied his dad by going to play for the Atlanta Braves in 1967 after Hank Aaron promised Dusty and his mom that he would take care of the 18-year-old kid as if he were his own son while guaranteeing that he would be in the majors (as opposed to the Braves minor league team) before he would have graduated college, had he gone; and so he was, taking the Braves outfield in 1968.
His signing bonus at the time: $15,000. His dad sued to nullify it, but proved unsuccessful in his attempt. It took seven years for father and son to reconcile.
You know what I probably love the most about Dusty Baker? He’s never signed on with the PC BS currently ruining America, making us afraid to say what’s really on our mind, fearful of finding a “woke” zombie-like person behind every bush.
For example, in 2003, he said that “black and Hispanic players are better suited to playing in the sun and heat than white players.”
Duh. Common sense, speaking in generalities. Dusty said later, fighting back the controversy, “What I meant is that blacks and (Hispanics) take the heat better than most whites, and whites take the cold better than most blacks and Latinos. That’s it, pure and simple. Nothing deeper than that.”
Now, who can argue with that? Speaking in generalities, that would be true.
In 2015, Dusty took another step into the current PC (Political Correctness) cesspool when he suggested that the Washington Nationals, which he was managing at the time, should probably field more players of color because “you’ve got a better chance of getting some speed with (Hispanics) and (Blacks).”
When the fit hit the shan, Dusty said, “I’m not being racist. That’s just how it is.” (Source: Wikipedia.)
I’d also add that in general, Blacks can sing better gospel music than can white people, have better teeth, and Hispanics know how to make better tacos and get more fun out of life compared to white people.
Again, these are all generalities, but that’s how life is. We live in a world comprised of generalities.
It’s a crazy world out there to be sure. I just hope that when I wake up Wednesday morning, (I cut my cable so I can’t watch the game live), the Astros won Tuesday night and will ultimately win Game 7.
Bring it home, Dusty. You are the man.