Milton
Bradley
was
miffed.
Not
the
company
that
makes
the
games.
The
athlete
who
plays
games.
That
Milton
Bradley.
Baseball
players
have
some
of the
strangest
names.
What
other
sport
can
claim
someone
who
is a
toy‑maker
(Milton
Bradley)
and
a breakfast
cereal
(Coco
Crisp)?
Anyway,
Milton
was
miffed.
“Strike
three!”
the
umpire
called.
Milton
didn’t
think
so.
He remained
in the
batter’s
box,
staring
down
the
umpire.
Moments
passed.
Finally
the
umpire
had
enough.
“You’re
outta
here!”
(I don’t
think
I’ve
ever
seen
someone
thrown
out
of a
game
without
them
first
saying
a word.)
Bradley
headed
to the
showers.
The
game
continued
without
him.
Milton
Bradley
is a
temperamental
ballplayer.
Those
of us
who
follow
baseball
can
name
several
famous
incidents
involving
his
out‑of‑control
antics.
In comparison,
this
episode
was
minor.
All
of which
leads
to an
interesting
question:
why
did
Milton
Bradley,
despite
his
objections,
acquiesce
to the
umpire’s
edict?
Why
did
he accept
a call
he disagreed
with
and
obey
a command
he felt
was
unfair?
Two
reasons:
in the
first
place,
he knows
that
resistance
is futile.
The
umpire’s
word
is law.
He
may
object,
but
it will
not
change
the
outcome:
He gets
an early
shower.
But
there
is a
deeper
reason,
even
more
fundamental.
Bradley
knows
that
the
integrity
of the
game
he loves
(and
is paid
obscenely
well
to play)
depends
upon
rules
and
their
enforcement.
Simply
put,
without
rules
there
is no
game.
Witness
the
recent
furor
over
the
revelation
that
an NBA
referee
gambled
on games
he officiated.
We instinctively
know
that
the
integrity
of the
game
is dependent
upon
fair
rules
and
honest
officiating.
We
feel
violated
by his
unscrupulous
behavior.
Last
spring
Amare
Stoudemire
and
Boris
Diaw
were
suspended
when
a vicious
foul
on Steve
Nash
incited
them
to break
the
rules
by leaving
the
bench
during
the
playoffs.
Despite
the
apparent
inequity,
the
integrity
of the
game
and
its
rules
were
at stake.
“Next
year
I’ll
wear
seatbelts,”
Stoudemire
recently
quipped.
When
it comes
to sports,
we stubbornly
cling
to rules
even
when
we find
them
unfair.
Why
is it,
then,
that
we are
so opposed
to standards
when
it comes
to life
itself?
Abolish
referees
at sporting
events,
and
chaos
will
result.
Ignore
the
laws
of engineering,
and
buildings
will
collapse.
Likewise,
without
boundaries
in life,
chaos
and
collapse
are
inevitable.
Think
about
it:
What
if each
subcontractor
who
built
your
home
used
a different
standard
of measurement?
Would
you
want
to live
there?
Of course
not.
Why
is it,
then,
that
while
we insist
on standards
in most
areas
of life,
we resist
standards
when
it comes
to life
itself?
One
can’t
help
but
surmise
that
the
current
chaos
of our
culture
stems,
at least
in part,
from
the
willful
suspension
of all
rules
of accepted
behavior.
Baseball
has
its
rule
book.
Contractors
have
the
Uniform
Building
Code.
Life
has,
well,
what
does
life
have?
Call
me old‑fashioned,
but
I subscribe
to the
notion
that
the
Good
Book
is still
the
best
guide
to life.
Many
opt
for
the
flavor
of the
day,
but
long
after
those
tomes
are
on the
clearance
rack
at Barnes
&
Noble,
the
timeless,
elemental
wisdom
of the
Bible
will
continue
to speak
the
truth
about
life.
Like
Milton
Bradley,
sometimes
it makes
me angry.
I
stare
it down,
looking
for
loopholes.
But
in the
end
I know
it is
futile.
I can
follow
its
wisdom
and
enjoy
the
blessings
of playing
by the
rules,
or balk
against
it and
find
myself
heading
for
an early
shower.
There
is a
way
that
seemeth
right
unto
a man,
but
the
end
thereof
are
the
ways
of death
(Proverbs
14:12).
Thy
Word
is a
lamp
unto
my feet
and
a light
unto
my path
(Psalm
119:105).