He’s five foot nothing. A hundred and nothing and he couldn’t
strike out Stevie Wonder. Still, he’s pitched at four major league
baseball games, never throwing anything but a strike (with one
exception), and does it all while wearing a bullet-proof vest. And,
no, it’s not 50 cent.

It’s George W. Bush. El presidente, the commander in chief or,
simply, Dubya. And he is the most prolific, not to mention the
best, pitching president ever. Not only that, but he could be the
most knowledegable President, in terms of baseball, ever, too.

“Hey, I never dreamed about being president. I wanted to be
Willie Mays,” said Bush.

But, unless you are Lenny Dykstra or Freddie Patek, short stocky
white guys really aren’t in high demand in the majors. So Bush did
the next best thing: He bought a team, The Texas Rangers.

From 1989 to 1994 Dubya, a Yale graduate (where he played
baseball and rugby), MBA recipient, oil magnate and Texas
congressman, was the managing partner of the Rangers. I’m not going
to go so far as to say that those years encompassed the prime of
the organization; in fact, I’d go so far as to say that the Rangers
have never actually had what most baseball writers and passive fans
would call a “prime.” But they won about as many as they lost and
they had Nolan Ryan, so all in all I’d say they came out ahead.

Bush gave up the Rangers after the 1994, season and it was
widely believed to be because he wanted make a run at the Texas
Governor’s mansion. However, a silent minority of Rangers’ fans
believe he actually left the Rangers because of the trade that sent
Sammy Sosa from the Rangers to the White Sox. No one knows for
sure, but it can be said with a certain degree of accuracy that in
the ensuing gubernatorial race, Bush polled significantly lower in
the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex than he did in the rest of the
state. I’m not implying that the fans held a grudge. I’m just
throwing that out there.

After winning an unprecedented second term as governor of Texas,
Bush decided to pursue his true passion: pitching in the majors.
And, like any normal apple-pie eating, gun-toting, “Friends”
watching child of the 90s Dubya sought to find the easiest way to
pursue that dream. He came up with a doozy: becoming the president
of the United States. It wasn’t exactly the beaten path, but it got
the job done. Less than three months after taking office, Bush
found himself standing along long-time friend and another former
owner, Bud Selig, on the grass of the brand new Miller Park in
Milwaukee, throwing out the ceremonial first pitch. He bounced
it.

He hasn’t bounced one since.

Four months later, he also threw out another first pitch in
front of a raucous crowd in Denver, before a Rockies-Braves game.
He stood at the top of the mound, something which is pretty out of
the ordinary for a ceremonial first pitch, took a little off of it
and nailed catcher Brent Mayne’s glove like he was born to do
it.

By far, his most celebrated pitch came before Game 3 of the
World Series in that same year. It was just over a month after
Sept. 11 and, needless to say, the city of New York was still
reeling. When the Yankees came back from Phoenix down two games to
none to the Arizona Diamondbacks, Bush was there to welcome them
with open arms. There is a celebrated story about that night that
will forever etch Dubya in my heart as an ambassador of our
pasttime. Before the game (and probably because of his experience
back in April at the Brewers’ game) Bush was warming up in a
bullpen underneath the stadium when Derek Jeter, the Yankees
captain and shortstop (and soon to be called Mr. November)
approached Dubya and had a short but meaningful conversation with
him. It went something like this:

Jeter: “Are you going to throw it from the top of the mound or
in front of it?”

Bush: “I was thinking in front of it, actually, Derek. Why?”

Jeter: “Don’t do that. They’ll boo you.”

And then, after Bush kindly thanked Jeter, and as Jeter was on
his way back to the clubhouse, he turned and said one final thing
to Bush: “Don’t bounce. They’ll boo you for that too.”

So when Bush came out of the Yankee dugout wearing an oversized
jacket to conceal his bullet-proof vest, and gave the thumbs up to
thousands of screaming fans in Yankee Stadium (and millions more
watching at home), he casually strolled up to the mound, rocked
back and fired in a nasty change-up to Jorge Posada.

There was no bounce. There were no boos.

The place just went nuts. Here was a president who looked more
comfortable in sneakers than he was in loafers and who actually
practiced the ceremonial first pitch before stepping on the field.
He probably even used the rosin bag. Properly.

Three years later (after a brief absence to fight terrorism and
re-invigorate an economy) Dubya made his triumphant return to the
mound, in this very town.

It was opening day at Busch Stadium and, again, Bush stepped out
of the dugout, waved to the crowd, dawned his patented cocksure
smile, strolled to the mound and grooved yet another pitch right
down the pipe.

Not too bad for a guy with the most stressful job in the world,
the weight of the free world on his shoulders.

I bet, during congressional recesses or after late-night cabinet
meetings, Bush probably takes his own personal Yogi Berra, Don
Rumsfeld, out into the Rose Garden and throws the ball around.
Maybe then he brings the heat mixed in with some hard sliders. He
probably doesn’t bounce any, either.