A few thoughts while noting this was the first week you could start to see the upcoming change in seasons. The sun’s angle in the morning is just a little bit lower, and the landscaping lights are now coming on at just the right time as the days revealing showing their shorter lengths. Not to mention the fact that the pool has dropped to a luxurious 88 degrees!

So who’s presidential? Donald Trump donates an 18-wheeler full of supplies ahead of a visit to flood-stricken Louisiana. Hillary uses the floods for fundraising. Barack Obama plays golf, warns Louisiana about discriminating against how folks are helped, and is ultimately shamed into interrupting his gold vacation on Martha’s Vineyard to visit the folks in crisis. No other way to put it: Trump is acting presidential, Hillary is her same shameless reptilian self, and our president is a dickhead.

BTW, the best way to help the folks in Louisiana is to do what I did and donate to Samaritan’s Purse. These folks do a wonderful job, and unlike with the Clinton Foundation, the money truly goes to the people being helped.

And speaking of that criminal enterprise known as the Clinton Foundation, from the “You Can’t Make This Stuff Up” Department: so Hillary now says the Clinton Foundation will stop taking foreign and corporate contributions if she is elected president“. The fact that she can say this without virtually any mainstream media scrutiny tells you all you need to know.

Thursday’s loss to the Tigers was just the latest example of manager John Farrell’s ineptitude when it comes to managing the Red Sox pitching staff – in this case the bullpen. I’m sure thousands of viewers yelled out in frustration when Farrell turned the ball over to Junichi Tazawa; I mean, for gawdsakes, it’s been apparent to anyone who knows anything about the game that Tazawa – like Koji Uehara – has absolutely nothing in the tank. Yet Farrell keeps running him out and keeps getting burned for it.

Along those same lines: I’d like to see the Sox to bring back Jonathan Papelbon to reinforce their bullpen for the stretch run. Sure, he’s not the same Papelbon he was when he left Boston, and sure, he has a few rocks loose in his head (always did), but I believe he loved the team and loves the town and would flourish in designated spots and as an occasional closer. That’s assuming, of course, he had a manager that could identify the correct spots for him – something Farrell has shown himself totally incapable of.

…For all the hoopla and money NBC and Golf Channel has spent on the Olympics the golf itself has been a snooze. The Olympics ought to be a celebration of amateur athletes going for gold and glory they might otherwise never see in their lives. These pros teeing it up have made millions of dollars, and we see them week in and week out on the professional tours in the same kind of individual competition the Olympics is doing. If they really wanted to re-introduce golf it should have been two-man teams representing countries, and the participants amateurs.

…Speaking of amateur golf, I just finished reading Mark Frost’s The Match: The Day the Game of Golf Changed Forever, and it was both interesting and a delight, talking about a match between two professionals (Ben Hogan and Byron Nelson) playing a big stakes match against two amateurs at the time (Ken Venturi and Harvie Ward). It’s a reminder of just how much esteem amateur golf used to be held in before Arnold and Jack came along and made professional golf what it is today. And here is where the Olympics folks made their mistake. Professional golf (just like professional basketball) already has their place in the sports world; making the Olympics opened solely to amateurs would make for a far more interesting narrative.

Frost’s book also serves as a reminder about how glamorous the game of golf was back in the late ’50s and early ’60s, with all the Hollywood stars involved and the colorful players of the time. Frost’s book goes into how important the “Crosby Clambake” was in terms of putting up prize money for the pros and helping the. You not only had Bing’s Clambake, but tournaments sponsored by the likes of Bob Hope, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis, Jr. Reading about those times, and then having to watch the likes of Bill Haas and other current-day PGA Tour pretty-boy robogolfers going about their business without any color whatsoever is just indicative of what happens when too much money gets involved.