Till the end of Ledee

Many a sleepless night has been blamed on an unsolvable riddle. People shifting under a comforter, eyes at full mast, wishing they hadn't glanced at that book of Zen koans. What was my original face before I was born? Turning the pillow over isn't going to help them solve it, but they try anyway....

This was my night last night. I hand-delivered an answerless riddle to my psyche. My eyes were closed, blanket pulled up, and then the thought came like a rogue wave:

My problem was that I was relying on emotions for an answer. The distaste for both is strong. Now, if the question revolved around Kent, Ledee, and Tommy Lasorda, and there were two cream pies, I'd have to stay true to the old joke and hit Lasorda in the face with a pie twice. This either/or business is tougher, though.

Logically working through the problem helped me. Number of times I've ever said, "Yes! Way to go Kent!": a whole bunch. Number of times I've ever said, "Yes! Way to go Ledee!": -63. Kent is a patently unlikable fellow, and one who just happened to don the unholy blue as he winds down his career. He still won an MVP for the Giants, though, and he still helped the team get to a World Series.

Ledee might be the greatest human being to ever step on a baseball field. After every game, he could go coach midnight basketball games for troubled youth, and stop by a soup kitchen to help serve before he went home. On the other side of the ledger, he has done everything in his power to prevent the Giants from winning any game he's associated with. To recap:

It seems petty to say the Ricky Ledee trade cost us the division, but the Ricky Ledee trade cost us the division. And now he's starting ninth-inning rallies against Armando Benitez, and roping bases loaded singles in the ninth inning of a tie game against the Giants? In a Dodgers uniform? Give me the damn pie.