Gassing up the Barbersled today, I opted to throw down a couple bucks for a lottery ticket. Rarely do I support the government's tax on stupidity, but commuting, working for a dozen masters doing something I don't exactly love; who's stupid now? Anyway, the Barbersled and I sped away, windows down and sunroof open with the angry & angular sounds of the new Coalesce record blasting out at odd intervals. (I apologize for reaching deep into the record reviewer cliche bag for angular, at least I didn't use the go-to prefix "post.")
Reaching highway speed I noticed my precious ticket to freedom floating towards the window. Holy shit! My Blue Jays-influenced thinking immediately took over:
Had that ticket blown away, it would have been a winner for sure. I don't know my numbers, so come Friday's draw I will only be able to picture my ticket as the grand prize winner.Sick as it may be, there is an element of human nature at play here.
My thinking then turned to Jake Eliopolous and James Paxton. What if they become the ones that got away? What if they go back to school and get hurt, or life throws them a curveball they can't hold up on? What if, had he signed, the tutelage of Arnsberg turned Eliopoulos into something great? Not Steve Carlton, but Andy Pettitte say?
Worse yet, what if they go on to become super duper stars for another team, the Orioles or Rays even! What if, as reported, the Jays and Eliopoulos weren't that far apart in negotiations? WHAT IF????
Needless to say, this depressed me. I quickly replaced Coalesce with The Loved Ones, turning my car into a anthem-ey pop punk conveyance of joy. The "What if" game is a fool's errand, but I've been accused of worse. I'm sure it's nothing and the young left hander with intimate knowledge of T&B Convenience and Whipper Watson Park has an outside shot at a solid if unspectacular career. But still, what if?
