Thursday, October 2, 2008

Define unusual

Let's see: 100-year floods happen about once every 25 years, 100-year El Nino events happen twice a century, and we have a hurricane of the century about every other year. (Even more now that there are such large coastal populations that tend to notice when their houses get washed away en masse.)

But the Cubs winning the World Series? Now that's an unusual occurrence. I felt bad when the White Sox made the playoffs, because that hadn't happened for 102 years. So the problem is, the thirst of history for milestones has now been satisfied by this convergence of Windy City baseball teams. It is now not necessary for history to amend its balance sheet with another event of similar unlikelitude. Plus, the Cubs think that the Dodgers that they beat in the regular season are the same as the Dodgers now; I say it ain't so, Manny. Plus, Derek Lowe had a big part in dispersing the gloom of the Red Sox curse, so he does not need to satisfy history either, having already done so, therefore he felt no obligation to pitch badly in Game One. And he didn't.

So unfortunately I believe that the Gods of Chance and Circumstance are smiling elsewhere, this year on the city with the sunshine guarantee, St. Petersburg, Florida. How many of you knew that the Tampa Bay Rays played in the Tropicana Dome in St. Petersburg, not Tampa? Apparently not many Tampa Baynians (or is it Tampites -- don't go there, NO don't go there! OH sorry you already did) don't know either. I for one, having experienced the Floridian climate in all its aspects for a few years, can't believe that they actually play baseball outdoors in daylight in August in Miami.

For all its glory and history and friendliness, Wrigley Field, despite the ivy on the walls, doesn't impart much of a homefield advantage. When the wind is blowing out, all balls carry. But the weirdness of the Trop apparently does, just like playing the caroms off the Green Monster at Fenway. Still, maybe Zambrano can recapture the magic; home field didn't mean much to him either when he pitched the no-hitter. (Update: he didn't. Wait 'til next decade, Cubbies.)

Yeah, I like sports. Speaking of which, I'll soon have a post on why I hate ESPN.

In other news: I didn't expect to have another asteroid post so soon, but an astronomer just discovered (after almost 9 years of observations) that a strange dumbbell or dog-bone asteroid -- Kleopatra by name -- apparently has moons. Now, ever since it was discovered that Ida had a moon by the Galileo flyby --



The little guy is Dactyl. If it were possible to stand on this moonlet, it would be possible for a baseball pitcher to throw a ball into orbit around it. Actually, Dactyl is so small it probably would be possible for a pitcher to throw a pitch to Ida, because the velocity of the pitch would probably exceed Dactyl's escape velocity. Don't know how well C.C. Sabathia would fit into a pressure suit, though.

-- I've suspected that other asteroids had to have moons. There's just too many of them up there not to have chunks experiencing the occasional gravitic capture or recapture. But it's neat to see that those depictions of asteroid fields from "The Empire Strikes Back" or "Galaxyquest" have a bit of truth to them.

Two Companions Found Near Dog-Bone Asteroid

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