I am mad. No, not at you. But at the "powers that be" who have decided to tax the young man who caught Barry Bonds 756th homerun ball.
Why? Anyone? Anyone? Beuller? (just kidding.)
GREED, pure and simple. That's why.
How many balls have been happily caught at baseball games, brought home and sat upon a shelf and become the stuff that legends are made of? Where it is "the thing" around which fathers and sons and grandsons gather, slap each other on the back and tell the tale of the Who, the When and the Where. Hundreds I am sure. Or maybe thousands. Who really knows.
Were they taxed? I don't think so.
What makes this ball so different from any other? Potential profit. That's what.
Someone, somewhere for some selfish reason does not want that young man to have that ball. And all because of what it could possibly be worth. So now, he is forced to sell it. Of course he is.
Do they care that he went to a game, a baseball game, to watch and cheer for his team, hoping to see a miracle and to possibly be a part of it, and by some small intersection of fate, did just that?
Did they feel the excitement rise as his hand reached out and wrapped around the ball, setting his place as "the one" who caught history?
No. They just sat back watching dollar signs float in and out of their heads, deciding just how quickly they could go about taking the wind out of his sails.
Logical? Sure. Clever? You bet. Fair? Oh, heck no.
No one cares about this little fella. It is all about what they can get and how fast they can get it. No matter what the cost to anyone else.
If I were that young man, I would box up that ball, hop on a plane and present it to Barry Bonds himself, the man who made that moment in history. It is his legend after all.
And I don't even like baseball.