Go Goats!

The relocation of the New Britain Rock Cat baseball team to Hartford has been bobbing up in our CT news for some months. Would New Britain let them go?  Would Hartford take them?  Where would they play?  By what new name would they be known?

The deal finalized, the last question was put to the people.  Suggestions poured in and this week the decision was made.  Hartford CT is the proud owner of the newly dubbed Yard Goats.

Go Goats!  I love it!  Having grown up with goats, I understand goats.  I appreciate their intelligence, perseverance and especially their tendency to find the ordinary in the absurd.  Their eagerness to engage is remarkable.  If you’ve never known a goat, you wouldn’t understand.

This same week, another nearby city has finally donned the mantle of political correctness by removing ethic graphics from the mascots of their two high schools’ sports teams.  They are, however, digging in and keeping the accompanying nouns Warriors and Chieftains since those words don’t apply to any particular group of people.  After all, ny of us can be bullies or know-it-alls.

With that in mind, I’m thinking nastily about an ethnic mascot that is as common as cow pies in a meadow: The Fighting Irish.  I’m 3^rd generation Irish, you see, and I bristle at the idea that my ancestors are depicted on uniforms, flags, banners as overly pugilistic.  Adding insult to injury, a short man dresses up in a Leprechaun costume and acts intoxicated.

It’s our time, Hibernians! Sing those raucous bar songs, pump your fists, slosh your beer.  If anyone objects, give him a clout on the chin.  Let your voices be heard from one state line of Indiana to the other (how did they get away with naming a State that?)