Leave it to the Free Speech Police to quash a man's dreams of leisure. I was all set to take a few days' hiatus from the grind of dogged blogging, a kind of mini-Spring Break wrapped around a short road trip to Detroit (only in Cleveland, where the spring is more like the winter we were supposed to have but didn't, can a road trip to Detroit qualify as a vacation), when absurdity struck once again and forces me to sound off. Ozzie Guillen, the say-it-first-think-about-it-later baseball manager was quoted as saying he loves Fidel Castro and admires the seemingly immortal dictator's longevity. After the expected uproar, Major League Baseball has seen fit to suspend Ozzie for five games. Five games! Okay, saying it as the new manager of the Miami Marlins wasn't the smartest thing (if Seattle Mariners' manager Eric Wedge said the same thing, would anyone have cared? Oh right, Wedge never says anything spontaneously), and Fidel's record as a rights crushing despot is even worse than his pitching one, but come on, it's Ozzie Freaking Guillen, and what is this anyway, 1962? You can't say stupid, off-the-cuff things anymore? How does this blog still exist? If I were one of Ozzie's players, for the duration of the suspension I'd have the stadium folks play as my "walk-up" music that line from Bob Dylan's 1964 song "Motorpsycho Nitemare": "I like Fidel Castro and his beard," in protest. Geez, I really need a road trip to Detroit to clear my head now.
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