Sex, Two Joe's And A Jim

I Used To Be Fast; interesting for a Vocal Confessional. This story mostly brought to mind my younger days and for whatever reason seemed readable. I have not lost a race I tried to win in some time. As I recall, it was New Jersey native Carl Lewis who stated once that the difference between himself and other track stars was not necessarily the speed at which they ran but the rate at which they gradually had to slow down towards the end of a race.

For once I have definite ideas about what I'm typing and an actual title; even a useless subtitle. All of the aforementioned brings me around to potentially six hundred pointless words which are supposed to follow. Wherever it leads I'll go, to paraphrase a hymn. Possible destination? Nowhere fast or maybe even nowhere in a hurry. Believe it or don't, to quote Jim Davis' cartoon cat Garfield.

Sincerely pointless races are not worth winning and I threw a couple before deciding not to run anymore if at all possible. This brings to mind the late Mick Mantle and the relative importance of partying versus actually ballplaying in professional sports. A then young Brooklyn native, the very much elderly J. A. P. we'll call him observing that he had a game to prepare for one night was told to "...shut the f--- up " and party at a gathering on the west coast years and decades ago.

The differences between literature about Oklahoma Mantle on the one hand and Brooklyn Joe on the other are many for a variety of reasons. Mantle fathered twice as many kids for one thing. I'm not prepared to dissect those differences or present myself as a scholar on the subject. Suffice to say that obscure minor celebrity athletes distinguish themselves occasionally by revealing their hard scrabble upbringings, sexual leanings or/and tales of how they survived an abusive childhood, etcetera. Throw in a few or more than a few stories about big time stars and you have an average ghostwritten autobiography.

These minor modestly popular tell-all books do sometimes produce something of interest for those who find the psychology behind sports to be the real point of being a student of professional athletics. There's nothing like a trite recollection of admittedly somewhat vaguely inspiring anecdotal stories to bore you almost beyond belief. This summarizes Mantle's The Quality Of Courage, not that it can't appeal to an average elementary school student. It just won't have anything along the lines of " f--- the guys who only date/go out with stars...somebody's got to f--- the ugly broads ". You won't find anything in there about alleged marijuana use of even a minor and experimental nature or anything whatsoever to do with sex.

New Jersey Jim Bouton's most readable material similarly had to do with quotes like " OK, now everybody act horny " spoken by a teammate as the team plane landed and the guys prepared to be greeted by their women. Bobbie Bouton's on the other hand was barely skimmed over by most readers due to Mr. B.'s ex's lacking interest as I recall in similarly colorful descriptions of things of a sexual nature.

Yet another New York star athlete referred to celebrating /commemorating a day held in his honor by describing the see through clothing sported by women he referred to as tension easers next to him in his limousine. J. W. Namath claimed to have on occasion passed time talking with at least one or more of the complimentary ass sent to him in his heyday. Only a kid or male with this mentality finds sports books to be of interest for the thrilling descriptions/ dissections of specific major sporting events.

Similarly elderly Martina Navratilova's books were of interest partly if not mostly for, say a buck naked photo of her kid sister and her sexually charged excerpts. Ask yourself if Chris Evert isn't more famous for being cute, blond and ponytailed than anything.