Will Leitch, making the reluctant but correct case in favor of Bud Selig:
Making fun of Major League Baseball commissioner Bud Selig is so much fun it’s kind of a sport unto itself. Selig has the hangdog countenance of a man who has spent most of his life fending off wedgies, prying himself out of lockers he was stuffed into, and peeling off KICK ME signs taped to his back. The man just has a Mr. Magoo feel to him, like he is perpetually walking into situations that he somehow finds a way to bungle. If you were to invite him over for dinner, by the end of the night all your nice china would be broken, your carpet would be covered in pasta sauce, and he would have accidentally unhooked your grandfather’s oxygen tank. And he’d stand there with the same look he had on his face at the end of the 2002 All-Star Game—the one that ended in a tie because they ran out of pitchers—that “Who, me?” befuddled slack jaw. He is a man of slumped shoulders, hidden in a suit that’s too big for him, wearing a clip-on tie covered in mustard stains.Posted by Stephen Silver at May 9, 2011 03:22 PM