To understand America, you need to look no further than Stephen Strasburg and Eliot Spitzer, two self-made-in-the-USA-in-their-own-way success stories, The Book of Norman writes.
I witnessed every pitch Stephen Strasburg threw in his first three starts; I don't even think I blinked. I couldn't take my eyes off him or his 89-mph changeup.Strasburg has come tumbling into our homes the old-fashioned way – through sporting achievement. Spitzer soon will be tumbling into our homes again the newfangled way – through public embarrassment.
(In sports, you still pretty much have to succeed to make it to the top; outside of sports, you can fail – even spectacularly – and make it to the top.)
In the last decade or so, we have had three hyped-to-the-hills athletes:
Tiger Woods, LeBron James and, now, Strasburg. Improbably, all three have met – if not exceeded – expectations.
(Imagine if that ever happened with our elected leaders.)
Of course, Strasburg could still flame out – a pitcher's arm is more dicey than a Goldman Sachs hedge fund – but, at the moment, he's the greatest thing to hit the nation's capital since the 23rd amendment.
Strasburg is two parts Sidd Finch, one part Roy Hobbs – except HE'S REAL. In his first three starts at home for the Washington Nationals, Strasburg has 33 strikeouts and no walks. In a 1-0 loss last week to the Kansas City Royals, he threw 75 strikes in 95 pitches.
He has such command of four pitches, if you gave him a military convoy, I'd bet he could strike out and find Osama bin Laden by nightfall.
Every five days Strasburg comes onto my TV and every five days I stop everything I'm doing – granted, that isn't much – to watch the 21-year-old pitch.
I witnessed every pitch Strasburg threw in his first three starts; I don't even think I blinked. I couldn't take my eyes off him or his 89-mph changeup. And we're talking baseball on TV! My friends, I had not watched a regular-season baseball game on television start to finish since Tim McCarver was bloviating from a crouched position.
(To be sure, when the Nationals were at-bat and Strasburg was in the dugout, I made myself a grilled cheese, yelled at my step-kids and checked my pre-nup. And the moment Strasburg was pulled from each game, I switched over to a TiVo-ed “Sopranos” episode faster than you can say “Sammy Gravano.”)
Meanwhile, back outside the ballpark in America, former New York Governor/pay-per-view womanizer Eliot Spitzer, it was announced, will be on CNN this fall. With Pulitzer Prize-winning, pro-life columnist Kathleen Parker, Spitzer will be host of a discussion program – sort of “Crossfire” with condoms.
Spitzer solicited high-priced calls girls while in office: What better qualifications do you need to be host of your own TV show?
Actually, if Spitzer wanted to see prostitutes, that's fine by me. But if Spitzer wanted to see prostitutes after previously prosecuting others for seeing prostitutes, that makes him a first-ballot Power Punk Hall of Fame inductee.
Client 9's CNN gig proves again that, in America – particularly on TV – you can be rewarded for vice as easily as virtue. As a rule, the more notorious you are, the more notoriety you get; the more notoriety you get, the better time slot you're given.
In fact, all of television is a larger version of “The Price Is Right,” with disgraced public figures replacing common, everyday folk.
Oliver North, come on down!
Rod Blagojevich, come on down!
Eliot Spitzer, come on down!
(Spitzer calls himself a “pragmatic liberal.” I would call him a “pragmatic opportunist.” Give him credit – in short order, he's gone from punch line to prime time.)
Spitzer's new program doesn't debut until September. Who knows? By then, Strasburg might be out of baseball, rob a string of convenience stores and have his own show on truTV.
Norman Chad is a freelance writer in Los Angeles.