We may be 60-some-odd games into the season already, but now? Now, baseball is officially in full swing. After all, nothing signals that were back in midseason form quite like an old white guy with his feet firmly entrenched in a repressive sport comfortably spitting outright insults over the boring ass beat of baseball's institutionally racist drum. To be clear, you don't have to understand the newfound fascination with athletes rocking at least slightly restrictive jewelry while playing professional sports. As an avid supporter of players showing personality, that's one of the few things that even I can't wrap my head fully around, as not even the power of prayer could completely stop a Jesus piece from getting in the way as it swings aimlessly from one's neck during the course of a highly competitive game. What you do have to understand, however, is exactly what you're doing when you stumble over (See: "...and stuff") a pointed critique of a young talent while making it seem as though his charisma had him cruising for a bruising before calling him a "prick" for merely looking back at the pitcher who plunked him. Lazy qualifiers aside, this isn't the first time Steve Blass couldn't even find the right words while going pretty far out of his way to lash out at those who, love them or hate them, make for the closest thing to appointment television for a league that's otherwise unfamiliar with the concept....
While I can't imagine either unsubtle mini-rant is the most intolerant thing ever heard on an MLB broadcast, both are just painfully typical of the type of unadaptable attitude that keeps alive the caucasity of a counterproductive culture that actively deters viewership. The best thing about baseball is that it's as diverse as it's ever been. With that comes varying sensibilities that aren't always going to fit in the same rusty old cookie-cutter that dates back to the days in which "colored" was a compliment. The truth is, while the word "prick" seemed wildly inappropriate, I don't even necessarily place the most blame on 77-year-old Steve Blass here. He's very clearly aged out of a sport that still shamelessly panders to those likeminded by allowing him to drivel on about the "good old days" during which predominantly white dudes conformed to playing a kids' game with a stick lodged entirely up their ass. Simply put? Be better, baseball.
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