The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current, April 03, 1989, Image 2

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    The Battalion
OPINION
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Monday, April 3,1989
EVdKYoNE. KNCW
THAT THIS LITTLE
SAILOR WOULD BL
f'Arrous OMP day.
Sushi in the ballpark
marks end of nation
Parks and Wildlife Department
improrieties must be corrected
There’s been some controversy dur
ing the past few weeks concerning the
stocking of wildlife by the Texas Parks
and Wildlife Department. Apparently,
wildlife were stocked on the properties
of state officials at taxpayers’ expense.
Elk, deer, turkeys and fish were
transported to the property of House
speaker Gib Lewis despite objections
that his ranch wasn’t the proper habitat
for some of the animals. In another inci
dent, Louis Beecherl, a member of the
University of Texas Board of Regents,
had antelope stocked on his ranch. Ob
jections that the property was not the
proper habitat were again ignored, and
within six weeks, 39 of the 40 antelope
were dead.
According to an article in the Austin
American-Statesman, hundreds of rain
bow trout were stocked in a pond be
longing to the father-in-law of state
Rep. Robert Saunders. Gary Matlock,
director of fisheries for the TP&WD,
said the fish were stocked in a research
effort designed to test the heat tolerance
of trout.
In a story by the Associated Press,
Matlock defended the move, saying “I
planned to go back up there after the
summer and see if any had survived.”
Gee, that sounds like some serious re
search to me. It must have taken weeks
and weeks of planning to come up with
that, elaborate research scheme.
Of course I’m just a layman in the
area of biological research, so I
shouldn’t criticize the wildlife experts. If
I ever had the pleasure of listening in on
a conversation between two of these
gentlemen, I probably wouldn’t under
stand anything they said.
Would you be able to follow a techni
cal conversation like this?
Wildlife Expert #1: “We're thinkin’
of doin’- some reesurch this summer.
Mebbe gonna figgur out the heat tol-
rurice of trout. Waddya think?”
Expert #2: “Sounds good to me.
Mebbe we could put ’em in a pond at the
beginin’ of the summer, then go back et
the end of the summer ’n see if any of
’em er still alive.”
Expert #1: “Damn good idea! If the
fish er still alive they must be heat tol-
i % f
Dean
Sueltenfuss
Opinion Page Editor
runt. If their ded, they ain’t got no heat
tolrunce. It’ll be uh damn nice little
piece o’ reesurch.”
Expert #2: “Plus we kin slip down
there on weekends ’n do a little fishin’.
We’ll have uh bang-up time, ’n git some
reeserch dun tuh boot!”
It’s easy to see how technical dis
cussions like that could just slip right
past the average person.
But it isn’t too difficult for the layman
to understand that some officials in the
Texas Department of Parks and Wild
life are in trouble —big trouble.
In addition to the incidents already
mentioned, various department officials
have been involved in other questiona
ble operations, such as using taxpayer
money to stock quail on the ranch of
commission chairman Charles Nash.
The latest occurrence in this story is
the indictment of the department’s di
rector of wildlife, Charles Allen, on
charges of illegally trapping and trans
porting antelope earlier this year.
In response to the recent scandals in
the department, Nash has said he will
do whatever it takes to ensure that the
stocking of wildlife will be performed
correctly from now on.
It seems he has his work cut out for
him.
Although there’s little doubt the news
media has blown some of the allegations
out of proportion, it’s also obvious that
everything in the TP&WD isn’t going
perfectly. Some people claim the, news
media has presented only one side of
the story — the version that makes the
TP&WD look bad. Maybe that’s true,
but some improprieties on the part of
TP&WD officials have certainly taken
place.
What’s been happening in the
TP&WD is probably not much different
than what goes on in many other areas
of government. The only difference is
that the I'P&WD’s problems were publi
cized.
As Parks and Wildlife Commissioner
George Bolin of Houston said of the re
cent problems, “I think just about ever-
body knew that sort of thing went on,
and probably always has in this state and
a lot of others.”
And although it seems like a bad situ
ation, maybe some good can come of it.
By fully prosecuting the people who are
guilty in this fiasco, the state of Texas
can send a message to others who use
improperly use taxpayer money:
“If you screw around with our
money, we’re gonna bust you.”
And that’s exactly what should hap
pen.
Dean Sueltenfuss is a junior journa
lism major and opinion page editor for
The Battalion.
In a couple of hundred years, when
historians study the decline and fall of
the once-great nation known as the
United States, they will pinpoint April
1989 as being the beginning of the end.
No, it won’t be because of a nuclear
disaster, the rise of Japan’s economic
strength, the free flow of drugs and
guns, the flood of illegal immigrants,
the communist menace, the greenhouse
effect, or even Dan Quayle’s IQ.
They will find that the fall began with
the deterioration of traditional values,
the rejection of our heritage and the
plunge into cultural decadence.
And they will be able to look to South
ern California to see where it began.
More precisely, to San Diego. And even
more specifically, to Jack Murphy Sta
dium, where the San Diego Padres play
baseball.
They will find that in April 1 989 the
San Diego Padres became the first ma
jor league franchise in the long history
of America’s great national pastime to
sell — brace yourselves — sushi to the
fans.
Yes, sushi in the ballpark. Strips of
raw or marinated fish, wrapped around
a ball of rice with maybe a dab of fish
eggs on top: the preferred snack of the
yuppiest of yuppies.
What will the San Diego fans be sing
ing?
Take me out to the ballpark.
Take me out to the game.
Buy me some sushi and I’ll feel fine.
1 might wash it down with a glass of
white wine.
I should be surprised, but I’m not. It
was inevitable.
Years ago, when the Brooklyn Dodg
ers moved to Los Angeles, I told my
friend Slats Grobnik:
“This is a bad thing for the country.
Some day they will be selling sushi in
ballparks.”
He said: “What’s sushi?”
I said: “I don’t know. But mark my
words, it will happen.”
And now it has. And, as I feared, if it
happened anywhere, it would be in Cali
fornia, where they have no respect for
tradition.
For almost a century, a hot dog was
good enough for baseball fans in New
York and Chicago, Cleveland and St.
Louis, Cincinatti and Pittsburgh, Brook
lyn and Boston. A hot dog, peanuts and
beer. It wasn’t merely good enough. It
was baseball food, just as turkey and
Mail Call
Mike
Royko
Columnist
dressing is Thanksgiving food. 1
you serve Peking Duck on Thants®
ing? Maybe in California.
Don’t dismiss the terrible significantt
of what’s happening. This season,
will be fathers in San Diego who wf
take their 5- or 6-year-old sons to
ballpark for the first time, as father!
have been doing for generations-as
sinning the surf isn’t up, which tab
priority in that strange land.
And 20 years from now, when
have grown to what passes for manhood
in that sun-kissed place, these ]
men will recall:
“Yes, I remember the first time In
dad took me out to the old ballpark,
remember the smell of the suntanl
tion, the nubile young things in the
halters. But most of all, I remembern
dad buying me my first, sushi and Per
rier. It was tuna with a dollop of caviar
And soon I will take my son, Lance,to
the ballpark and do the same for him
However, I’ll recommend he try tk
shrimp sushi, too.”
A few years ago, I happened to men
tion that San Diego was not deservingol
a championship because (a) the fans had
not yet suffered enough, except when
they forgot to put on suntan lotion and
(b) they were beach bums, quiche eaten
and wine sippers.
They were outraged. Many wept
openly. And some wrote letters defend
ing their manhood. As one of them said
“I happen to be very macho and you art
nothing but a puddle of poodle wee
wee, so there.”
Now they have sushi in the ballpark
So much for their wet-eyed protests.
Baseball lore tells us that the most fa
mous stomach ache in sports history wai
suffered by Babe Ruth, also knownk
baseball scholars as the Bambino or tk
Sultan of Swat.
He got the stomach ache after eating
a snack of 20 hot dogs. The Babe did
not do things in a small way.
It made headlines all over the coun
try. And the national reaction tothishe-
roic gluttony was:
“What a guy!”
I can’t imagine any such excitementif
a San Diego Padre ever eats 20 piecesof
sushi. If it happens, the response will
be: “What? A guy?”
Copyright 1989, Tribune Media Services,Inc,
Recycling at A&M
EDITOR:
This is an open letter to all Aggies, professors, and
staff members. The Texas Environmental Action
Coalition and B-CS ReSOURCE, two new groups here at
A&M, have begun a very important program on campus,
and we would like everyone’s help with it. The program is
recycling.
So come on, Ags! Look for those bins for aluminum
cans which we are putting around campus. (All of the
profits from the cans are going to fund environmental
programs in the B-CS community.) And let’s start using
the paper-recycling facilities we have in town. We can
change our country from being number one in energy
waste back to just number one!
Kirby S. Fry, President T.E.A.C.
Accompanied by 17 signatures
Letters to the editor should not exceed 300 words in length. The editorial staff
reserves the right to edit letters for sde and length, hut will make every effort to
maintain the author's intent. Each Letter must be signed and must include the
classif ication, address and telephone number of the writer.
by Berke Breathed
The Battalion
(USPS 045 360)
Member of
Texas Press Association
Southwest journalism Conference
The Battalion Editorial Board
Becky Weisenfels, Editor
Leslie Guy, Managing Editor
Dean Sueltenfuss, Opinion Page Editor
Anthony Wilson. City Editor
Scot Walker, Wire Editor
Drew Leder, News Editor
Doug Walker, Sports Editor
Jay Janner, Art Director
Mary-Lynne Rice, Entertainment Edi
tor
Editorial Policy
The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting newspa
per operated as a community service to Texas A&M and
Bryan-College Station.
Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of the
editorial board or the author, and do not necessarily rep
resent the opinions of Texas A&M administrators, fac
ulty or the Board of Regents.
The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper
for students in reporting, editing and photography
classes within the Department of Journalism.
The Battalion is published Monday through Friday
during Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holiday
and examination periods.
Mail subscriptions are $17.44 per semester, $34.62
per school year and $36.44 per full year. Advertising
rales furnished on request.
Our address: The Battalion, 230 Reed McDonald.
Texas A&M University. College Station, TX 77843-1 111.
Second class postage paid at College Station, TX
77843.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to The Battal
ion. 216 Reed McDonald, Texas A&M University', Col-
,lege Station TX 77843-4 111.
BLOOM COUNTY
by Berke Breathed