Americans need to stop looking at foreign policy the way they look at baseball. Baseball's greatest championship may be called be the World Series, but everyone knows it's really American. Likewise, when we think of the "international community," we imagine people that think like us.
Everyone loves a comeback. The 2015 World Series was rife with them, with lessons in redemption in every game. If baseball is a metaphor for life, the...
For the past several weeks I have seen a multitude of stories from the wild world of sport that have struck me as something about which I wanted to write and set my brain whirring.
Before we get too upset at not winning the World Series, let us ask: Was there a Mets fan anywhere when the season began -- or in late July -- who wouldn't have been ecstatic with the team winning National League championship?
With the end of the World Series, I began thinking about all the lessons I've learned about business and leadership from baseball. Whether it was playing the game or watching it on TV, I realized that the game has shaped my actions and beliefs in my career and relationships.
Let's face it, professional sports give mixed messages about competition and team play. Some of it is the stuff fairy tales are made of, and some of it is worse. That's why you'll love this story.
It's no longer a secret that Kansas City is a friendly place with a good cost of living. But here are five more reasons you'll fall in love with the City of Fountains.
For now, no one along the eastern side of 126th Street is making much money because of the World Series. We'll all have to wait and see whether that changes that in the near future, and how the public trust doctrine is interpreted to limit private development on public parks.
Faster than you can say "dropped third strike," the Chicago Cubs transformed themselves from World Series contenders to "rebuilders." Or, baseball speak for, "we must get rid of a few guys."
Baseball groundskeepers rely on a phenomenon of color science called gonio-appearance to confuse our eyes into thinking we see two different colors of grass. In this case, the grass really is greener on the other side.
The narrative that the Mets are lovable losers has probably been seen by people outside New York as one of those strange New York things like saying "on line" instead of "in line," walking fast or knowing a good bagel from a bad one.
I was born a Mets fan, and now that I think about it, I just might have been conceived the night they won the World Series in 1969, which was almost exactly nine months before I was born. Mostly, it's been a long slog for my 45 years.
As you get older, a Catholic boy like me comes to realize three depressing things, as he drags his bat back to the dugout after yet another strikeout: God does not distribute hitting abilities evenly among his people, God probably doesn't care about baseball, Maybe there isn't a God.
From the moment the postseason schedule was announced -- and the Cubs' name FINALLY appeared on it -- the phrase, "The Cubs are on" has reigned supreme as my go to response for, well, everything.
The amount of vitriol unleashed on Matt Harvey for wanting a long, healthy career is stunning to me. We have derided the old days of the reserve clause when players were treated like chattel, yet we condemn a young man for heeding the word of his doctor.
For all they achieved in life, or did not achieve in life, the Cannon Street all-stars continue to wonder what would have happened if bigotry had not denied them the opportunity of playing in the Little League World Series.