The Grim Reaper’s shadow seems to fall heavily upon us just now. There’s plenty of reason to believe that the single story bombarding us from every direction is at least somewhat manufactured. (I’d be willing to bet that you’ve never yet heard the truth about Italy’s especially harsh experience of the coronavirus: how the Chinese bought several plants in the Lombardy region, where the vast majority of cases have occurred, and proceeded to import a hundred thousand of their own workers from—guess where?—Wuhan!) Yet if we’re being played to some extent, exactly what is that extent? Who can tell?
So you want to retreat, naturally, to some honest endeavor like sports, where sign-stealing is the worst fraud imaginable… and then you hear that sporting events across the board are being canceled. The MLB has scrapped the last two weeks of spring training and pushed the season opener back a further two weeks: more time to brood and grow paranoid!
I have personal reasons (and, to me, much better ones) than an imported quasi-flu bug for thinking seriously about mortality these days. My body betrayed me last month, and now I’m waiting around for Corona dust to settle so that I can convince the doctors to schedule a minor surgery. I’ve been pretty good to my machine over the years, so I hope for full recovery by some time in June. If I ever did anything that gives me pause now, it’s over-exposing bare face and arms to long hours of summer sun when I was “indestructible”. I’m afraid we knew little about sun screen when I was twenty—or at least I don’t recall ever being warned about its advisability. Ballplayers of my son’s age appear more aware of the risks and usually take appropriate precautions. That’s good.
But why, oh why, do some of these same kids chew tobacco? One boy I recollect from a travel team about ten years ago wanted his mom to rush out and buy some Skoal so that the scouts said to be attending a tournament would see the telltale circle projecting from his rear pocket. Why have young people, especially in this game, still not gotten the message that tobacco kills? My father and father-in-law both died of its long-term consequences. They were “benignly” introduced to it during World War II by Uncle Sam, who wanted GI’s to have a way of chilling out when not under fire. Why, though, do I continue to see a big-league stud here and there with a wad pushing out his lower lip?
Harvey Kuenn—1953 Rookie of the Year, owner of over 2,000 hits, 1959 AL batting champ, and manager of a Brewers team that almost won the 1982 Series (Harvey’s Wallbangers)—always had a big, juicy gob in his cheek. He lost a leg to a blood clot and then, within a decade, lost his life to further cardiac problems: complaints not unrelated to tobacco use. Bob Allison, co-starring slugger of some dynamic Twins teams in the Sixties along with Harmon Killebrew, would speak late in life to Twins recruits at spring training through a twangy, monotone replacement for his voice box, begging the boys not to stray down the tobacco path. Yet still, after so many decades and so many painful deaths of good men, I see this suicidal behavior.
Playing hours a day under the sun already introduces a risk factor. Why double up on the risk—why give the Reaper an extra shot at you with his scythe? You’re not indestructible, believe me. You seem that way now… but no one’s indestructible. Not anywhere close.
Everyone on earth, but especially ballplayers, should strike up a close friendship with antioxidants. They’ll assist you in resisting practically any physical deterioration under the sun—including the effects of too much sun. Where do you find them in the food world? Vitamin C, of course: oranges, tomatoes, cranberries, and also exotic picks like kiwis. My information is that the humble kiwi packs about ten times the VC punch as an orange. You often read of rare tropical fruits in the ingredients of energy drinks, but I prefer having the real thing on hand to wondering if I’m getting a significant dose of it.
Do your research. Prickly pear cactus, surprisingly, are another antioxidant superstar. How in the world do you eat the thick, stiff leaves of these? Peeled: I don’t recommend them with the spines on board! You can buy them in most parts of the nation on the “Mexican food” aisle (labeled nopalitos). Their slimy texture makes them pretty off-putting by themselves; but if you stir them into an omelet or tacos, they fade into the background while bringing out the taste of everything else. True team players!
Gojis and blueberries belong on the list. The former are quite bitter off the bush (and I have two very hearty bushes—they survive anything); the latter leave tiny seeds in your teeth. Okay, so be a big boy. Mix the former with something sweeter, and rinse your mouth out after eating the latter.
Maybe this is an old man’s shift… but I really don’t know why it would be. I added seaweed pills (Seanol) to my diet years ago, and lately I have been including a new homeophathic on the market called Pycnogenol. These are extremely powerful antioxidants. Yes, we older types are more likely to be investing in such supplements… but maybe more young people would reach a healthy old age if they would consider doing the same thing.
Most of you know about broccoli and spinach… and, to be sure, they also have their diehard enemies in the “delectability” department, like goji berries and nopalitos. A healthy guy might want to learn some Gordon Ramsay skills: some of these items, admittedly, need a little dressing up. The age when men invited doubts about their masculinity if they knew their way around the kitchen are long, long gone. I believe I may have married the last woman who knew a skillet from a saucepan.
I read an email literally minutes ago that promoted seasonings like ginger, turmeric, and garlic. I don’t think any of these delivers antioxidants, specifically—but they underscore the previous point. Nobody goes around chewing a garlic, or not in civilized company. You consume such things by learning to cook: you stir them in. My wife adds ginger to carrots, and I put the other two (along with onions, chili peppers, and curcumin) in taco meat. Cinnamon has some great properties, too, that the young idiots who suffocated themselves a few years ago while “taking the cinnamon challenge” over the Internet presumably didn’t know. For breakfast, I’ve lately been stirring cinnamon and honey in with peanut butter to make toast from twelve-grain bread. It’s a little healthier than a Pop Tart!
Walking around chewing things… are you still hooked on that? I hear that sunflower seeds are beneficial in some way, though they’re not my preference; and they’ve apparently nudged tobacco out of the MLB’s “spitting in the dugout” market, for which single achievement we all owe them a debt of gratitude. Peanuts can give you a bit of a bellyache if you’re constantly working on a mouthful—but practically all nuts, of course, have some antioxidants to go along with their potent proteins. Almonds are particularly recommended.
This is just me… but I like to chew a little baking soda after downing my morning tea. (I picked the tea habit up in Ireland decades ago, and I’m now trying to stop over-caffeinating—it’s probably part of my prostate problem; but green tea is, by the way, another fine antioxidant. I hate the stuff… but you can blend it with other teas that don’t taste like mowed grass.) No more than with tobacco would you ever want to swallow a mouthful of baking soda: spit the stuff out after a minute. But sodium bicarbonate was actually the best antibiotic going before penicillin. It may have kept our great-grandfathers alive through contagions like… well, the coronavirus. You don’t really think that they didn’t have such assaults on their health a century or two ago, do you? Yet here we are: they survived well enough to produce us. We could do worse than to study just how they did it.
Come to think of it… that’s my constant refrain on SmallBallSuccess.com. It applies to a lot more than hitting a baseball.