The Texas Tornadoes
Went to my 9-year-old son's baseball game in McKinney last night and came away with two revelations: We really shouldn't name our sports teams after natural disasters, and people, even coaches, are stupid. You've heard all the uproar and NCAA mandates that universities no longer use "Indians" or variations of Native Americans as their mascots. After all, we're told, they're offensive. My guess, after hearing and watching those storms roll through 15 miles north of my house last night, is that there are some folks in northern Collin County this morning who find tornadoes a tad offensive. Nonetheless, in actions that seem to embrace or even taunt Mother Nature's fury, in Miami they have the Hurricanes, in San Jose they have the Earthquakes, in Colorado they have the Avalanche, and, yep, in Frisco, in the same county in which three people were killed last night, they have a hockey team named the Tornado.
I would try to explain that, but I'm still trying to sort through the thought process of what has to be one of the planet's dumbest humans. As the storm rapidly approached and lightning cracked in the not-so-distance around 8:30 p.m., the Little League wisely canceled the game. Everyone, of course, agreed and began hurriedly packing up to leave--except for one coach. For this dramatic re-creation, we'll call him "Idiot." I swear this exchange took place:
Ump: Game canceled, lightning.
Idiot: C'mon, are you kidding me?!
Ump: Coach, there's lightning.
Idiot: Why...it's not that close!
Ump: It's in the area. Coach, do you really want your kids holding aluminum bats?
Idiot: In the area? That storm's at least 100 miles away! It's not coming near here!
Ump: What are you, a meteorologist?
Idiot: No, but I am educated!
Or not. You guessed it: The coach's team was leading at the time, 1-0. And, you know, Little League wins are indeed as important as life and death. --Richie Whitt
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