Shattered Innocence

Well, it finally happened. No, wait. It happened for the second time. I equate the end of my childhood with Dale Murphy being traded from the Atlanta Braves. This took place in 1990, when I was 23. Granted, Murphy was not my favorite player of all time (that honor goes to Hank Aaron), but he was one of the last great athletes to revere. My buddy Scott Sergent, who was an intern with the Braves, called me at work to tell me. I was managing a music store at the time, so I had to be strong for my employees. But I did cry that night. Time to move on, time to grow up. I eventually forgave Tom Glavine for throwing at Murphy during a game a year later. It was retaliatory – he HAD to do it. Even the pitch was symbolic. Murphy knew it was coming and the ball was thrown about 30 mph. After the game, Murphy said he didn’t take it personally and Glavine didn’t even want to talk about it. That’s the kind of respect Murphy garnered.

This time though, my faith in our justice system took the big blow. I always believed that the prosecutors were the good guys and the defense attorneys were the bad guys. Defense attorneys can lie and spin like crazy; prosecutors HAVE to find and tell the truth. But if you’re like me, you want to beat Nifong with a lacrosse stick. You and I both know that he will be on the $10,000/hr lecture circuit next year.

Lucky for me, tomorrow I’m going to the happiest place on earth. No, not Charlize Theron’s pillow – Disneyworld. Maybe that will get me back on track.