Where have you gone, Joe Dimaggio?

[NorthCarolinaLiberty]

The other day I was lamenting about how the overpaid, slovenly professional athlete has been quite derelict in raising my kids. “Whatever happened to the All-American baseball player who doubled as role model?” I wondered.

Just then, my teen-age son approached me asking for some advice. It seems he was having some trouble in several areas of his life.

His first problem was with his new bride. “I just don’t know what I will do,” he said despairingly.

“Why don’t you do what Babe Ruth used to do?” I asked.

“What is that?” he wanted to know.

I told him how The Babe would just go out on the town with other women. He would continue to do this until his marital problem was solved. It worked so well that he became the most popular ballplayer of all-time.

My son was so impressed with my marriage advice, that he unloaded his next problem on me. He had a job interview coming up, but interviews scared him to death.

“Well now, that’s an easy one,” I counseled. “Just take a tip from the greatest pitcher of all-time, Grover Cleveland Alexander.” I then told him the story of how Alexander pitched drunk in game seven of the World Series.

“Was he the winning pitcher?” my son asked.

“Of course!” I replied. “A great ballplayer knows how to handle stress!”

My son was really impressed by now, so he then told me about a very important college exam he had the next day. He had not studied at all however, because of the stress of his new marriage and the terrible working conditions of his job.

“Just do what Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford, and those guys used to do. You go drinking and stay out all night.”

My son then lit up. “Wow, it must have worked,” he grinned. Look how many championships the Mick won.”

“Now you’re catching on!”

My son was cheering up, but he still had a $375 traffic ticket to pay.

“That’s easy,” I beamed. “Just do like the 1919 White Sox and bribe those government bureaucrats.”

“That won’t work,” he protested. “Those White Sox players got caught.”

It is true that those players got caught, but I reminded my son how there were eight ballplayers in that scheme, so somebody was bound to spill the beans. He alone would know about his scheme, and I assured him that I would not tell.

My son was nodding his head, but still wanted to know why I had not mentioned any ballplayers from the last fifty years in my stories.

“Why, there are no role models today, so I didn’t want to give you any bad examples,” I answered.

He nodded. He then grabbed a 12 pack of beer out of the refrigerator, pulled out his car keys, and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I have a test tomorrow, and I really need to study,” he replied.

“Good luck!” I said.