By Roger Wallenstein
The news that the White Sox are considering Tony La Russa for their vacant manager’s position resulted in near panic last week from some Sox fans and writers. You’d have thought that the ballclub was doing something as dangerous as holding a public rally at The Grate so kids could run the bases sans masks or social distancing.
The responses came quickly. “He’s too old. He hasn’t managed since 2011. He wouldn’t be able to relate to the players. He couldn’t work well with the front office. I repeat, he’s too old.”
These are challenging times for all of us, but especially for folks who were born in the 1940s, of which La Russa and this writer are guilty. People who know about deadly viruses have warned us for months that we are most susceptible to COVID-19. Much about our lives has changed. Like our vocabulary. Words such as “morbidity” have entered into daily conversation right alongside launch angle and exit velocity.
Suggestions are not uncommon that our perceived frail condition dictates that we are expendable. A few particularly uncaring, heartless and ignorant individuals have reasoned that older folks, being closer to our demise than the general population, should not prohibit others from pursuing their regular routines.
If you’re thinking that I’m sensitive to the ageism slur, then we’re on the same page. Substitute “Black” or “Brown” or “gay” rather than “old” into the equation and you’d rightfully be confronted with anger and outrage along with a tidy lawsuit.
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Posted on October 19, 2020