Opening Day 2026

We pick up where we left off last November after what was in my opinion, one of the greatest baseball postseasons I've ever experienced, perhaps second only to the 2005 season when my favorite team won the World Series for the first and only time in my life.

If you've forgotten about last year's MLB playoffs, you can read about them here.

Or to save you from what was perhaps my longest post ever, (that's not even counting the epilog which had to be added to cover the World Series), you can cut to the chase. This is how I ended the epilog: 

Baseball is a strange game and that's probably why I love it so much.

For me, with nothing personally invested in either team, the chill rains of the end of baseball for the year will be quite tolerable. Watching, listening to and reading about this year's post season was like eating a magnificent meal and being completely satisfied, leaving no room for dessert. Or like reading a novel that you can't put down which at the end leaves you moved and inspired but also drained. These experiences don't come along every day, or even every year. Sometimes they are once in a generation or even once in a lifetime experiences.

Which is why we remember them.

Come to think of it, the 2025 MLB Playoffs may have been even more enjoyable to me as I didn't have much emotional investment in any of the teams last year, excluding the brief appearance of the Chicago Cubs; consequently the games were stress-free and I could tune in for one reason only, pure love of the game.

Here's a link to an article from this weekend's New York Times about a significant change coming to baseball this year, the introduction of reviews of ball and strike calls. This is how the article titled Introducing the Robot Umpire, written by Matthew Cullen begins: 

The foundations of baseball have largely remained the same since Babe Ruth swung a bat. Nine innings make a game. Three strikes and you’re out. And the ultimate authority on all pitches is the home plate umpire.

With all due respect to Mr. Cullen, those foundations he mentions go back farther than Babe Ruth's time, perhaps by sixty or seventy years. But he's absolutely right that baseball has been a game historically averse to change and when change does come, there are some who claim all is lost and vow to never watch another game. That said, they usually come back after a few weeks. 

To some, the introduction of reviews of balls and strikes using the Automated Ball and Strike Challenge System (A.B.S. for short) is a no-brainer. For several years now, many televised broadcasts of major league games have featured graphic superimpositions of the strike zone above home plate, and a spot marking where the ball crosses the plate, giving the viewer clear evidence of whether each pitch was a ball or a strike. *

One might argue that given this technology, the role of umpires calling balls and strikes is superfluous. And yet, home plate umpires will continue to call balls and strikes on top of all their other duties. This year the only change will be that players, namely the pitcher, catcher and batter, will have the opportunity to challenge a call they don't agree with, turning the call over to the A.B.S. Each team will be given two opportunities per game to make an overruled challenge, meaning that because there's a premium on them, games won't be bogged down by frivolous challenges. 

This seems like a reasonable compromise between the folks who want to keep the "human element" in the game, and those who insist that the only thing that matters is getting the call right. 

Personally, I'm in the human element camp as part of the aesthetics and drama of a ballgame is the reaction of and to the umpire calling a pitch. That would all go for naught if baseball goes the route of professional tennis which has for the most part eliminated human line judges in favor of automatic ones. 

For me, bad calls seem to even each other out, you win a few, you lose a few, just like in life. When thinking about issues regarding sports officials, I always think of someone I knew for whom the only possible outcome for his team was this: either they won the game, or the game was stolen from them by the refs. Life was hard enough for the poor guy; I can't imagine what it would have been like for him if he didn't have bad officiating to hang his hat on and be forced to admit that his team actually lost.

But I think there is one driving factor that is going to make the human element dinosaurs like me lose this battle forever. It's another recent change in baseball and other sports in this country, legalized online betting.

For that I turn your attention to this brilliant article in The Atlantic titled not entirely ironically: My year as a degenerate gambler, written by staff writer McKay Coppins. 

In 2018, the Supreme Court overturned a law passed by Congress which restricted most sports betting to the state of Nevada. Before that ruling according to the article:

...professional sports leagues remained determined to keep gambling at a distance. High-profile scandals—the White Sox World Series fix in 1919, the Mafia-instigated point-shaving scheme at Boston College in 1978—had convinced commissioners that betting posed an existential threat to organized sports.

Coppins goes on to quote Paul Tagliabue, the late commissioner of the NFL who testifying before Congress said this: 

Nothing has done more to despoil the games Americans play and watch than widespread gambling on them.

After the 2018 Supreme Court ruling however, the leagues took a 180-degree pivot and made up for lost time as fast as their legs could carry them. 

In his article. McKay Collins uses a wonderful literary metaphor (no, not Shakespeare) to suggest why the highest court of the land in their infinite wisdom, may have not made the right decision. You'll have to read the article to find out why. 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that legalized betting is a boon for the sports business. Much as they'd like to depend on the love of the game folks like my son and me, there just aren't enough of us around to turn much of a profit. Sure, fans will always tune in to their favorite teams' games, but how many folks would spend their valuable free time watching a meaningless late-season game between two teams they have no particular interest in? 

But if they have a wager on that game, well that's another story. 

Which is where the demand to get the calls absolutely right comes in. Back in the good ol' days when sports leagues distanced themselves from gambling, they could go on as they always had, letting human beings imperfect as they are, make the calls, then shrug their shoulders claiming that bad calls are simply a part of the game. But now that the leagues and the sports gambling companies are virtually tied at the hip, ** any bad call, even the ones that have little or no impact on the outcome of a game, will send a red flag to bettors that the games may not be completely on the up and up. 

As McKay Collins points out in his article, betting has been around as long as competitive sports. And as I've pointed out a number of times in this space, betting is the reason that spectator sports such as baseball exist in the first place, If not taken to problematic extremes, sports betting can be a fun social activity and bonding experience, just ask the tens of millions of Americans who at this moment have their own bracket or ten entered in the office NCAA Basketball Tournament pool. 

Baseball is a game that lends itself perfectly to betting, perhaps more than any other with the possible exception of American football. Since a baseball game can be broken down by each pitch, betting lines can be set up for any number of occurrences, most of which have nothing to do with the outcome of the game.   

That makes me think of my greatest moment of clairvoyance at a baseball game. I was sitting in the left field bleachers at Wrigley Field one sunny weekday afternoon when the Cubs' late Hall of Fame second baseman Ryne Sandburg was up to bat. With runners on base and a three ball and no strike count on him, I made the comment to my friends, presumably heard by several other folks within earshot: "Do you think he's going to swing at the next pitch?" 

General baseball logic says that batters shouldn't swing at a 3-0 pitch. But I assumed Sandburg would, given that a pitcher not wanting to walk the batter, will often deliver a nice fat pitch up the middle that a great hitter like Sandburg could take advantage of. Which naturally he did, launching a drive that landed in the seats not far from where we were sitting. I looked like a genius, if only I had put money on that claim. 

I bring it up because that moment is stuck in my memory, unlike all the other times I made similar comments only to have the batter take that 3-0 pitch for ball four. Those memories are long lost within the recesses of my brain. If I had placed bets all those times, I'd be deep in the hole.

Which is precisely why I don't bet on sports, I have far too many other methods to part with my money thank you very much.

Needless to say, I'm perfectly happy enjoying stress-free experiences at the old ballpark which I hope to do at least a few times this season with my kids God willing. And yes, I'll be keeping score.

Which means the only thing I'll have to worry about is a team sending more than nine batters up to the plate in a single inning, thereby messing up my tidy scorecard. 

I can't wait.

Play ball!

* Of course, no system is perfect, but it's safe to say that the A.B.S. is more accurate in calling balls and strikes than umpires. For me the best part is when the automated system proves the umpires right.

** If you don't believe that the sports leagues and the betting companies are tied-at-the-hip, next time you watch a game on TV, note the number of times you'll see an ad for an on-line betting site. 

That Voice

On the day after of the passing of the Reverend Jesse Jackson Sr, I found myself driving to work after a treatment at the University of Chicago Hospital, just a stone's throw from Rainbow/PUSH headquarters, the organization that Jackson founded in 1971. It dawned on me that morning that we had just lost the last significant figure in American history that has remained a constant, relevant presence on the scene since my childhood.

Rev. Jackson first appeared on my radar in 1968, in the terrible days following the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. I was not quite ten years old at the time.

Like a figure out of central casting with his athletic 6'4" frame, his charisma, his endless supply of self-confidence, his movie star good looks soon to feature feature an impressive afro, and his preference for casual attire, Jesse Jackson cast a stark contrast to the more conservative, buttoned-down image of Dr. King and most of his other associates who would try to fill the void after the great Civil Rights icon's death. 

In a word, the rough-around-the-edges Jesse Jackson was the personification of cool.

On top of that, while he may have lacked some of his mentor's gravitas, Jackson was an equally gifted orator, whose delivery and rhetoric had the power to move people to tears, to anger and most important, to action.

All of that in time contributed to Jesse Jackson's inheriting the role as the de facto leader of the American Civil Rights movement.

Of course, he wasn't Dr. King, something he no doubt was reminded of endlessly since April 4, 1968. The one thing he happily lacked in abundance was MLK's most distinctive trait, the role of martyr.

That 's clear even in our day as folks you know damned sure would have excoriated Martin Luther King when he was alive, trip over themselves to praise the dead icon today. 

They don't trip over themselves like that for Jesse Jackson and his own successors.

That said, I've had plenty of occasions over the past 58 years to roll my own eyes over some of the antics of Jesse Jackson, especially the tendency he had to never to shy away from attention. I wasn't alone, in a 1972 article in the Chicago Sun Times, columnist Mike Royko dubbed him "Jetstream Jesse." 

Lest you think those are the opinions of two old white guys grumbling about black people "who don't know their place", no less a figure than Martin Luther King himself was skeptical about the effects Jackson's over-the-top personal ambition and arrogance would have on the movement he led.

Was Jackson a self-serving, attention seeking prima donna? Of course he was. And I might add, we are all the better for it.   

Now it's time for you to roll your eyes at me. Reverend Jackson happened to pass away as I was in the middle of writing my last post, looking for insights from William Shakespeare on the political situation we find ourselves in today.

Wouldn't you know it, the Bard has some insight on Jesse Jackson's ambition as well. 

In Act II Scene 1 of the play Julius Caesar, one of the plotters in the plan to assassinate the great Caesar says this: 

I have not known when his affections swayed
More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof,
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;
But when he once attains the upmost round
He then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend.

Shakespeare uses the word "ambition" sparingly in his plays but when he does, it is always as a negative trait, much like we would use the term "power hungry" today. Here Brutus is expressing his fear that Caesar has the ambition to become king, something the people of Rome during the time of the Republic stood steadfast against. He is offering no evidence of this, but rather points to examples of aspiring tyrants cultivating the trust of the lower classes, in Roman terms the plebeians, only to turn their backs on them once they ascend that ladder of ambition.

After Brutus and his fellow conspirators assassinate Caesar, the crowd at first is drawn to their side when Brutus makes their case. Then Mark Antony, a strong supporter of Caesar's is allowed by Brutus to speak to the crowd. At first he seems to take the conspirators' side:

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar.

But he goes on to brilliantly dismantle their argument piece by piece until by the end of his speech, the crowd demands the heads of the conspirators. First, Antony points out Caesar's commitment to Rome and its people:

He hath brought many captives home to Rome
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill.
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?

In other words, Caesar could have pocketed all of the spoils of war for himself, but he didn't.  

One of the most substantial differences between Jesse Jackson and Martin Luther King, contrary to their relative appearances, is that Dr. King was highly skeptical of capitalism and advocated for the complete redistribution of wealth. Were he alive today he would be branded a radical socialist. 

On the other hand, Jesse Jackson believed that the most practical way to lift people out of poverty, was to reform capitalism, opening it up to provide opportunities for the disadvantaged. In that vein he successfully challenged both Wall Street and Silicon Valley which helped many people of color and women become financially successful. Had he played his cards right, through those connections he made with big business, he could easily have made himself a very wealthy man, but he didn't.

Next in Mark Antony's speech, he testified to Caesar's commitment to the poor: 

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:

I don't think I need to add anything here regarding Jesse Jackson's commitment to the poor. That is self evident, especially after he made it to the top of that ladder of ambition. He was fond of saying: "Don't look down on anyone, unless you're trying to lift them up." His commitment extended to the downtrodden, the dispossessed, and the disenfranchised of all colors, including the LGBT community, back when it was not popular to do so.

Finally Marc Antony addressed the chief concern of the conspirators, Caesar's kingly ambitions:

You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?

Jesse Jackson indeed had lofty ambitions, which in our time we don't necessarily see as a bad thing. He ran twice for the nomination of the Democratic Party to be their candidate for president, in 1984 and 1988. The odds against him winning the presidency however, especially in 1984 against an extremely popular incumbent, Ronald Reagan were enormous. The man who won the Democratic nod that year, former vice president Walter Mondale, lost the general election in a landslide. 

I have little doubt that in his heart of hearts, Jesse Jackson knew he didn't stand a chance to win the presidency those years. And yet, his were two of the most significant presidential campaigns in modern American history as they created a seismic shift in national politics, opening doors for people who before never would have stood a chance for success in American politics. Jackson never got to that promised land, but many successful lawmakers, governors, one Speaker of the House, one Vice President and one President of the United States did, all while standing upon Jesse Jackson's broad shoulders. 

Here is the closing of Jackson's 1988 Keynote Address to the Democratic National Convention in Atlanta, not far from Ebenezer Baptist Church where Dr. King began his career and where his final resting place is. In this clip you'll find a full display of Jackson's compassion, his empathy, his powerful oratory, his self-confidence, his desire to bring people of all races together..... and yes his audacity and his self-importance, with perhaps a little blarney thrown in for good measure. 

It's all there. 

But I dare you to watch this and not be moved to tears. 

Without Jesse Jackson's passion, his insight, and especially his chutzpah, what would we have left? Most likely the guy who ended up winning the Democratic nomination that year and went on to be trounced in the general election in November, Michael Dukakis.

With all due respect of course.

The tag phrase that comes out at the end of the clip, "Keep hope alive" will more than likely be Jesse Jackson's epitaph. But there is another phrase of his that I will forever associate with him: 

"I am somebody"

Like another truism that was coined much later, in a perfect world, "I am somebody" should never have had to have been said. But our world is far from perfect and for far too long, black people were treated like nobodies in a country where black lives didn't matter.

I don't remember the first time I heard Jesse Jackson deliver that line in call-and-response fashion that is so common in the black church, but it couldn't have been long after I first became aware of him. I realized immediately that he wasn't only speaking to his audience in the room, he was also speaking to me, a white kid who had just moved with his family to a new neighborhood, and to a new school where my new classmates made me feel like an outsider, a nobody.

At a very young age, it was from that moment on I knew that despite all the baggage he may have carried with him, Jesse Jackson was the real deal.

Today, the day of Jesse Jackson's public going home ceremony on the far South Side of Chicago, back at the hospital about a mile from where he will be laid to rest tomorrow, I had the opportunity to ring a bell signifying my completing twenty sessions of radiation therapy. At that moment, Jesse Jackson's voice saying  "Keep Hope Alive" took on an entirely new meaning to me. 

That voice, the voice of my generation and several to follow, is the voice of the conscience of our nation. It is a voice that death will not silence, not as long as people are willing to listen.