Trachsel Palin

At least she made it through her entire announcement without using the word "Maverick." That's progress of a sort, right? She did, however, manage to work in "unconventional" and "politics as usual" a couple of times.

A few days ago, the Solipsist mentioned Lincoln's sound advice about keeping silent and being thought a fool, rather than opening one's mouth and removing all doubt. As a good Republican, she really should have taken the Ol' Stovepipe's suggestion.

We are speaking, of course, of Sarah Palin, who just resigned as Governor of Alaska. Have you seen the announcement? If not, it's really worth watching in its entirety. When we first heard the news yesterday afternoon, we were surprised, but we assumed it was some sort of calculated move--that Palin was planning a presidential run in 2012 and that, somehow, she and her advisers had concluded she would better position herself by being outside the governor's mansion. We assumed she was planning to join some law firm or public-policy think-tank (ignore the obvious jokes for the moment) to establish her bona fides and keep her name in the public spotlight before formally announcing her candidacy sometime in early to mid-2011.

At least, we thought this until we watched her. . . really "speech" is the wrong word. Monologue? Ramble? Meltdown? Take your pick. (You really need to watch it to get the full impact. We'll wait.)

Dum-de-dum-doo-doo.

OK? You know what she looks like to us? (WOS: A crack addict? No, no, no.) Her affect makes us think that the night before this presentation (so, Thursday) some large men in dark suits pulled up outside the governor's igloo and presented her with some kind of irrefutable proof of some unspeakably shady dealings on her (or perhaps her husband's) part. She was then presented with the option to resign--immediately--or face the public revelation of whatever skeletons lurked in her closet.

Honestly, we kind of hope that was the case. Because NOTHING else explains the inane press conference she held in Wasilla. We're not speaking of the message--the resignation itself; for that, there could be any number of legitimate or semi-legitimate reasons. We are speaking of the sloppiness, the utter disregard for anything resembling polished public speaking. Honestly, she made George W. Bush look like. . . well, like Barack Obama.

Did you know that the last part of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s, "I Have a Dream" speech--the famous part, the I-Have-a-Dream, Content-of-Their-Character, Free-at-Last part--was actually not in the original text? It's true. He was winging it. We suppose we could say that Palin was trying to emulate King by not having any teleprompter or notes--we COULD say that. Or maybe there are no teleprompters in Alaska. Or index cards. Or paper. Or maybe Palin just can't read. At any rate, her announcement was a seven-minute political death-march. It was almost painful to watch. (And really hard to eat popcorn to.) As we said, she managed a few references to her unconventionality, as well as her disdain for politics as usual: In this case, the usual politicians she seemed to be disdaining were smooth-talking orators with the ability to hire competent speechwriters. Highlights included:

--References to a wish to spare her family the potshots of the liberal media elite. Fair enough, except for the fact that the family member she alluded to as a victim of such sniping was Trig, the baby born with Down Syndrome--in other words, the ONE member of Palin's family who has probably NEVER been ridiculed by ANYONE. Perhaps Palin's inability to keep her family members straight prompted the resignation.

--Palin mentions that she "polled her most important constituents" (i.e., her family) about her decision. The question she apparently put to them (and this is a DIRECT QUOTE FROM PALIN): "Do you want me to make a positive difference and fight for all our children's future outside the governor's office?" The response, according to Palin was "four yeses and one 'Hell, yes!'" We are simply captivated by the image of Mother Palin in her apron and kawasaki 704s, bringing a roast in from the kitchen, and commencing the dinner conversation with "Hey, kids! Do you want me to make a positive difference and fight for all our children's future outside the governor's office?" A regular June Cleaver, that one.

--And while we're on the subject of Palin's family: So, they were OK with her being Vice-President of the United States, but now they have a problem with her being governor?

Awhile back we thought that Sarah Palin might be a Sloppist. Alas, this press conference suggests she is not. Or at least that she missed our post from earlier this week about metaphors and the inadvisability of mixing them. In her speech, Palin first compared herself to a point guard who passes the ball (in this case to Lt. Gov. Sean Parnell) in order to give her team (Alaska, presumably) the best chance to win. Later, she compared her decision to "calling an audible," suggesting that she is the quarterback of a football team. All right, it's not exactly a mixed metaphor--it's really just two separate sports metaphors (had she said, "I'm a point guard calling an audible," THAT would have been a mixed metaphor). What strikes us, though, is that she is using the wrong sports metaphors altogether. What she is not taking into account is that, while both point guards and quarterbacks pass the ball to help their teams win, they also STAY IN THE GAME. What she more closely resembles is a pitcher in baseball. Which brings us to Steve Trachsel.

Steve Trachsel was a major-league pitcher. Over a 16-year career, he pitched for several teams. He's not a future Hall-of-Famer or anything, just a good, reliable, keep-your-team-in-the-game kind of pitcher. At any rate, he pitched for the Mets from 2001-6, compiling a 66-59 record. He was a reliable and, indeed, important part of the Mets' pitching staff.

What's notable about Trachsel's time with the Mets was how it ended. His final start for the team came in the 2006 National League Championship Series against the St. Louis Cardinals. He didn't pitch great; more significantly, he didn't pitch long. After giving up two runs in the first inning, he came out for the second and was hit on the thigh by a batted ball. The manager and trainer came out to check on him, and Trachsel left the game. The significant point is that he LEFT the game; he walked off the field after walking the next batter, and that was it.

Now, Trachsel may very well have been hurt by the batted ball, but the fact that virtually no one on the Mets--not the manager, not the general manager, not even Trachsel's teammates--spoke up for him suggests that his injury was not that severe, and that, given the circumstances (a championship series), Trachsel should have sucked it up and at least tried to tough it out. Major league players do not take themselves out of the game. At any rate, Trachsel was through with the Mets. He pitched two more years, compiling a 9-16 record, and, as of this writing, appears to be out of baseball altogether.

Sarah Palin is not Jason Kidd. She is not Brett Favre. She is Steve Trachsel, leaving a high-pressure game under questionable circumstances. For the sake of the nation, let's hope she continues to follow his career path into blessed obscurity.

(Sarah Palin baseball card image from Toledo Free Press)