As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly

Thanksgiving ahoy. Enjoy the much needed days off, and obscene amounts of food...

Just over a year ago, Rob Russell started this blog, giving himself something to do in the baseball offseason, and thankfully giving me something to do other than ponder suicide at work. In honor of Thanksgiving, a thank you to Ye Ole Red Sox Fan, and a brief GTB history lesson. (I mean, is this as bad as those sitcom flashback episodes? Hmm, perhaps...) In light of the Malice at the Palace and the Clemson/South Carolina melee, sports are taking a beating in both the media and the court (and gridiron) of public opinion. That's why we need Gheorghe, or at least more like him. I'll let Rob take this (this post was written just over a year ago)...

"Mission Statement, or What's a Gheorghe, and Why Should I Care?

I don't trust anyone that can't laugh at himself. I think that Crash Davis was dead on, right up until he started talking about Susan Sontag, at which point I tuned out. I'm hopelessly addicted to the Boston Red Sox, even though I know it's not good for me. I believe that sports, like society at large, is full of self-important, egomaniacal windbags at all levels, and I intend to use this space to tilt at the windmills that threaten to suck all of the joy out of the things that I love.

This space is named, with love, for the most fun athlete ever to draw a paycheck from a professional franchise. Gheorghe Muresan, late of the Washington Bullets and New Jersey Nets, stood 7'7" and weighed 330+ pounds. He shuffled around a basketball court like a slightly more mobile version of Frankenstein's monster, with a splay-footed gait and elbows and knees that flailed about as if independently operated. His face was a Mr. Potato Head set gone bad, with a massive, bulbous nose, thick eyebrows, and a prominent forehead that betrayed his pituitary disease. He played a handful of NBA seasons with a modicum of success, being honored as the NBA's Most Improved Player in 1997-98. Most importantly, though, he played basketball and approached life with a pure, unadulterated joy that was, and is, unmatched by any other professional athlete.

Gheorghe's spirit and the joy with which he appears to approach life offer lessons for all of us about the important things. This space will celebrate those in sports and elsewhere that live with Gheorgheness, and skewer those that think they are more important than the game - be it sports or life. Gheorghe: The Internet Magazine, had a brief, meteoric run several years ago, flaming to earth in a blaze of apathy amidst rampant rumors of financial mismanagement. Gheorghe: The Blog rises like a phoenix from the ashes, or at least like a Weeble, to carry on the Gheorghian mission.

GTB's diminutive wordsmith continues with examples...
To borrow - liberally - from a much more accomplished man, I can't define Gheorgheness, but I know it when I see it. Jon Stewart's got a whole heaping mound of Gheorgheness. Dan Snyder (or, as he'll come to be known in this space, Little Danny Starfucker) is the antithesis of Gheorghe. John Riggins has a PhD in Gheorgheness. George Will is a George, but not a Gheorghe. Yao's a little bit Gheorghy, but Kobe's not. Kevin Millar teaches Gheorghe 101 in Boston, but Roger Clemens flunked out of the course. Emeril Lagasse seems to know which wine goes best with Gheorghe. Mark Cuban's thinking about making Gheorghe an honorary Maverick.

I can't think of a single politician with Gheorgheness, though Dennis Kucinich is really funny-looking. Stewart Scott aspires to Gheorgheness, but he's so fake that he can't pull it off. Rich Eisen can, though. Too bad he's dead. Well, taken a job at the NFL Network - 6 one, 1/2 dozen the other. Dennis Miller used to be chock full of hearty Gheorgheness, then he took a hard right turn and became a caricature. Michael Moore is so far from Gheorghe that he might as well be a short, fat, humorless troll. Oh. That simile ran smack into the wall of reality, didn't it?

Jack Black is the high priest of Gheorghe, attended by his happy alcolyte, Jeremy Piven. But not by John Favreau, David Spade, or Colin Quinn. The Kids in the Hall gaily genuflect to Gheorghe while they get Girl Drink Drunk. Sting's got more anti-Gheorghe in his pinky than Bruce Springsteen does in his whole family, though, to be sure, I still like both of their music. And speaking of music, the Wiggles are thinking about making Gheorghe a new recurring character - Greg will pull him out of the magic hat."

Why the hell am I posting all this now? Is it because I wanted to post something before the long holiday weekend and was completely bereft of original thoughts? Quite possibly. However, I also felt it might be time to start highlighting the Gheorgheness (damn that's a pain in the ass to spell) in the world, be it sports or anything else. Sounds like a good plan, no? (I mean, there's no chance I can stick to it, but what the hell)