Don't Take Me Seriously - Book - Page 185
Featured commentary
Nobility in swinging for the fences
Y
ou’ve heard it countless
times: “He was swinging
for the fences.” This, as you
know, means he was trying to hit
a home run. And, unfortunately,
most times, this is followed by
“a swing and a miss.” You see, in
baseball, the odds favor base hits
over home runs. And so, swinging
for the fences is often a desperate
act, in which you will, instead of
“hitting it out of the park,” most
often “go down swinging.”
These well-worn baseball
phrases apply to life, in general,
as well. For example, if your aim
is financial independence, your
best odds arise from such things as
working hard at a good job, making
smart investments and cheating on
your income taxes. These “base
hits” should eventually add up
to a lot of gold bars under your
mattress.
On the other hand, buying
$10,000 worth of lottery
tickets would fall into the
category of desperately
Jim
WALKER
DON’T TAKE ME SERIOUSLY
swinging for the fences.
Oh, and working for a
newspaper? Well, that’s a sacrifice
bunt.
But, regardless of how reckless it
might be, in my view, swinging for
the fence is always a bold and noble
act of courage and intemperance.
It’s something to be admired, along
the lines of charging a machinegun nest bare-handed, or being
totally honest with your wife about
her hairdo.
Great works of literature and
cinema are full of this kind of
nobility. For example, the world
will long remember the heroic line
Otter offered in 1978’s “Animal
House.” With the Delta Tau Chi
fraternity being shut down, their
backs against the wall and all hope
seeming lost, he nobly declared, “I
think that this situation absolutely
requires a really futile and stupid
gesture be done on somebody’s
part.”
Inspired by those great words,
Bluto courageously responded,
“And we’re just the guys to do it.”
And then the Delta Tau Chi boys
all charged off to destroy a parade
as a grand and senseless act of
revenge.
It was totally swinging for the
fence, and such heroic acts mold
the lifestyles of impressionable
young men who watch them, I can
tell ya.
Oh, you want an example not
from fiction? Well, how about
the lads in the 1854 Battle of
Balaclava, in the Charge of the
Light Brigade? About half of those
660 or so fine gentlemen ended up
dead, wounded or captured, and
the whole thing was pretty much
a bust. But we remember them
fondly, don’t we?
Yup, more than 150 years of
admired courage and nobility,
arising out of colossal errors in
judgment back in the day. Why?
Because they charged into the guns.
Now, sometimes, you might not
realize when you are swinging
for the fences — but you are. For
example, when your midlife crisis
causes you to buy that red Porsche
you can’t afford, you’re swinging
for the fences. Whatever you’re
envisioning isn’t really likely to
happen.
When you sign that gym
contract on Jan. 2, you’re swinging
for the fence. I mean, seriously?
And when you sign your
“creative” income tax return,
you’re swinging for the fences,
hoping the IRS has bigger fish to
fry.
In fact, just the simple act of
getting out of bed in the morning is
pretty much swinging for the fence.
If you were to dwell on all the chin
music and knucklers and bean balls
life could hurl at you, you’d just
quiver under the covers.
And, finally, how about anyone
who chooses to get married or
makes the conscious decision to
have children? These, my friends,
are the ultimate examples of
swinging for the fences. Overall,
the odds are not in your favor.
And yet so many, many of us
charge into the guns on these,
grinning as we go and pretending
the bullets don’t hurt.
Stupidity?
Maybe.
Courage?
Yes.
Nobility?
I’d say so.
Besides, sometimes you do hit it
out of the park.
I mean, the human race would
not survive if we all played the
odds, lived alone and raised
hamsters, right?
Swing away, my friends. Swing
for the fences. There is no nobility
in a timid life.
Comment at jwalker@thesignal.com or Twitter at http://
Twitter.com/DontSeriously.
