Football bonding: fun or sex abuse?

So it took a couple days to get my head around this one.

According to the Seattle Times, Bothell High School football players have a hazing tradition called Rape Squad. Now, yes, today, in 2019. It’s a not-so-secret, boy-on-boy pranking thing, and it’s got the community outraged. The fellas call it “jubies.”

Bothell: Nice leafy suburban school. With a creepy criminal secret abusive bonding ritual.   (Google)

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No Off Ramp

Review of A Soldier’s Journal: Last Supper to No Goodbye


Why is this here? A book review about veterans, combat, and PTSD — on a blog about baseball and sex abuse? It all makes sense if you think about it. The trauma, the stress, the anxiety, depression, even the tragic suicides we see among our returning vets, follow the patterns seen in victims coping and healing from sexual abuse.

A psychologist or a scientist of any training might tell you: The human brain and nervous system form a network like a vast freeway system. A huge, interconnected, fractal-like web takes us wherever we want to go, however we want to get there, with endless choices of routes and where to enter and exit. And a healthy young brain revels, rejoices in the options the road map offers. Ons and offs abound. Freedom awaits. Continue reading “No Off Ramp”

Happ nominated Ex-Mariner of the Year

Should have seen this one coming. As soon as Carlos Correa’s bomb cleared the fence last night, before the dance and swagger around the bases, before our man walked dazed from the field… we here at Playin’ in the Dirt should have expected this to pop up.

Baffled. Dude looks like Billy in Beverly Hills Cop after Axel Foley takes him to the strip club: “What the hell did I just see?” (mlb.com)

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Still 30 years old, still dreaming

Everybody likes to quote the story’s closing line. It’s a classic, no doubt. But the opener sticks with you. And those first few words stay fresh, forever young, while the part about the baseball gripping you back, well, it gets overdone and worn and cheesy.

Here’s to Jim Bouton, pullin’ up a chair and poundin’ some ol’ Budweiser with Schultz, Mincher, and Oyler.

“I’m thirty years old and I have these dreams,” Jim Bouton began in 1969. Jim Bouton died this week. The papers said he was 80. But he’s still right there in our memories, in the green shining grass of that one unforgettable season of Pilots  baseball, and he’ll never be anything but thirty. Still dreaming. still grousing about Schultz and Milkes, still searching for a place to fit. And we, the lucky fans who saw him pitch, who snuck a peek at his book on the grocery store shelf a year later, who saved our dimes and bought a copy when mom wasn’t looking, well, we still have dreams too. Continue reading “Still 30 years old, still dreaming”

The crusader you’ve never heard of

“We’re braining our boys and raping our girls.”

That’ll grab your attention at the beginning of a forty-five-minute conversation. Irv Muchnick was asked what drives his passion to report on training deaths in football and sexual abuse in swimming. When you follow Irv’s work, you get used to hard-hitting stuff. But that was an extra level of truth.

Muchnick: Don’t try to hide from this man (Broadsheet)

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