Redleg Nation: The Fall – Redleg Nation

All those responsible for editing agreed that the part in which you signed should, Should Remains.

In a long, highly adjustable process of checking the shot frame, I managed to fall off a treadmill that was exactly an inch high, and not in motion either. Hence, a very low-tech commercial shot for my alumni choir, The only thread left from our closed high school. But rather than enticing an avalanche of donations and merchandise purchases to help us reach a much-needed fund-raising goal, I shot a cautionary tale against exercise equipment.

People tell me “I liked your video”.

“Thank you very much. How about you join us at the party? It’s free!”

“Yes, I do not know.”

“Have you seen all the different kinds of stickers you can order?”

“Remember when I signed? That was my favorite part.”

I mean, people watch, which is the main point, and I’m not salty at all about falling in front of the camera. Not when falling is a normal life situation. People have been watching me fall ever since Birth. It fell on my nephews, areas marked “fall hazard”, and completely flat bathroom tiles. This is the norm. But, apart from all other human moments, he became a star by accident. Which, if you think about it, is the most convenient.

What does this have to do with the Reds? My friends, they have everything in the world to do with the Reds. Like the Bengals until very recently, their team narrative is a startling penchant for finding new and creative ways to lose. Loss overshadows everything. Shouting heads down. She swallows the play of a future resident of Cooperstown. It has wrapped itself around the Great American Ball Park like a toxic fog. And if this team isn’t keen, losing, not the World Series in the stadium den, will become the trademark of this franchise.

Even if a sports fan follows nothing but baseball, the Reds have more or less managed to hide in a division that also has the Cubs and Pirates. When the Cubs were winning, the Reds weren’t such a disaster. But now they are in grave danger of becoming synonymous with glove-throwing. “Redding” doesn’t quite have a “Cubbing” episode, but the second I see “Come on, start Redding” on non-Cincinnati Twitter accounts is when we know we’ve passed the point of no return.

I’d like to think there are plans in place to prevent this, because the situation, game by game and season by season, has slipped from the frustration of never getting past the first division games into a stable culture of truly epic losing. Here’s the barrel we’re looking at at this point in the broader stretch of history: we lose; We measure loss. 62 Mets is an aspirational point. Pictures of Reds batting helmets are being trolled.

Setting aside the romantic nature of baseball to view this team as a purely financial asset, who would want to own a company with this kind of word of mouth? This team wants to be the dollar general of Major League Baseball? Because that’s where the ownership group would find themselves if they didn’t run this sunken aircraft carrier quickly.

Otherwise, the world will just tune in to watch the Reds go down.

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