Idiots Write About Sports

I envy my co-worker Peter. He works out of his home, a joy that I knew for nearly two years, before trading it all in for the twin burdens of home ownership and a middle management positon. (Both are working out about as well.) But I envy Peter especially these days because not only does he enjoy the freedom of the pantsless workplace, he also lives in Mashpee, Massachusetts, just a short bike ride away from where they’ll be kicking off another season of the Cape Cod Baseball League.
The Cape Cod League, of course, is where hot college prospects spend their summer vacation, playing baseball from now until early August under the watchful eye of jaded scouts and even more jaded New Englanders. The way Peter describes it, heading over ol’ ballyard to spend a summer evening watching high-quality amateur baseball is one of the unparalleled pleasures in his part of the world. He probably has a lot more to say on the subject, but usually, by this time, the galling envy he inspires usually causes me to pass out.
If you have a few idle moments, take some time to head over to the Cape Code League’s home page and read some of the season previews for each of the teams. They are a hoot and a half, written, as Peter says, with all the earnestness of the police blotter column in the local newsweekly. By far my favorite is this opening paragraph from the Cotuit Kettleers’ season preview:

Every year the best players in college baseball flock to the Cape and every season seems to bring more excitement. These words couldnit ring truer than in the small seaside village of Cotuit. The Kettleersi quaint little home of Lowell Park, just seconds away from the inner harbor, offers everything a true baseball fan could want. And whatis not to love? Fans of all ages can essentially live out the ultimate baseball experience, socializing with players during the games and analyzing the game from the benches right behind home plate, attempting to offer some Peter Gammons-like insight to family and friends. Not to mention that fans have the privilege of witnessing the future of professional baseball develops right under their noses. Besides all the great things the ballpark provides, the Kettleers will also field a team this summer.

They’re going to field a team this summer? Why, that’s just the sort of bold strategic maneuvering that helps you capture that Cape Cod League title. Hopefully, the other franchises won’t get wind of this unconventional approach to baseball.
Words cannot express my disappointment, incidentally that the Cotuit Kettleers’ logo is an Olde English “C” and not a teapot. Of course, Peter is still coming to grips with the bitter realization that the Falmouth Commodres’ logo is not, in fact, Lionel Ritchie’s floating, disembodied head.

Your 2006 Falmouth Commodores
While we are on the subject of the Cape Cod League, if you are ever in the mood for a hauntingly bad motion picture, run — don’t walk — to your local video store and grab Summer Catch, a jaw-droppingly awful piece of work that not only asks us to accept Freddie Prinze Jr. as a Major League-quality pitching prospect but Jessica Biel as something other than a department store mannequin. We caught this a few years back on HBO because the wife enjoys the acting work of Matthew Lillard, which would be perfectly all right by me if Matthew Lillard didn’t make so many terrible, terrible movies, many of them featuring Freddie Prinze Jr. By the end of Summer Catch, you will find yourself hating baseball, Cape Cod and the people who live there, Freddie Prinze Sr., and Sarah Michelle Gellar for not keeping her talentless oaf of a husband far away from the camera’s unforgiving glare.
So it’s a good time for all concerned is what I’m saying.