Carlin also knew the truly important truths:
Baseball is a nineteenth-century pastoral game.
Football is a twentieth-century technological struggle . . .
. . . Baseball begins in the spring, the season of new life.
Football begins in the fall, when everything's dying . . .
. . . Football has hitting, clipping, spearing, piling on, personal fouls, late hitting and unnecessary roughness.
Baseball has the sacrifice . . .
. . . Baseball has the seventh inning stretch.
Football has the two minute warning.
. . . Baseball has no time limit: we don't know when it's gonna end - might have extra innings.
Football is rigidly timed, and it will end even if we've got to go to sudden death . . .
. . . In baseball, during the game, in the stands, there's kind of a picnic feeling; emotions may run high or low, but there's not too much unpleasantness.
In football, during the game in the stands, you can be sure that at least twenty-seven times you're capable of taking the life of a fellow human being.
And finally, the objectives of the two games are completely different:
In football the object is for the quarterback, also known as the field general, to be on target with his aerial assault, riddling the defense by hitting his receivers with deadly accuracy in spite of the blitz, even if he has to use shotgun. With short bullet passes and long bombs, he marches his troops into enemy territory, balancing this aerial assault with a sustained ground attack that punches holes in the forward wall of the enemy's defensive line.
In baseball the object is to go home. And to be safe.
He also could have mentioned that football has the Super Bowl, halftime shows, marching bands, a ball that isn't even shaped like a ball, and the Oakland Raiders, while baseball has the World Series, curve balls (and the balls are shaped like balls!), knuckleballs, screwballs, the most creative and intensified rivalries in sports, and the best nicknames in sports, including but not limited to . . .
Arriba
The Baby Bull
The Bambino
The Barber
Bedrock
The Beeg Mon
The Big Bear
The Big Cat
The Big Donkey
The Big Hurt
Big Papi
The Big Train
The Big Unit
The Bird
Black Jack
Bad Henry
Blue Moon
Bye Bye Balboni
Cakes
Capital Punishment
Catfish
Cha Cha
The Chairman of the Board
Charlie Hustle
Choo Choo
The Cobra
Crash
The Crime Dog
Dizzy
Daffy
Death to Flying Things
Dennis the Menace
Dimples
Ding Dong Bell
Dr. K
Dr. Strangeglove
The Dominican Dandy
Ducky
El Duque
El Sid
Eric the Red
Everyday Eddie
The Express
Finster
Fonzie
The Fordham Flash
The Flying Hawaiian
Frenchy
The Gambler
The Georgia Peach
Gentleman Jim
The Giambino
Gimpy
Goofy
Goose
Gonzo
Goombah
The Greek God of Walks*
Hoot
The Hoosier Thunderbolt
The Hoover
The Immortal Azcue
The Iron Horse
Iron Man
Iron Mike
Jack the Ripper
Joey Bats
The Kid
King Carl
Kingfish
King Kong
Kitty
Le Grande Orange
The Lip
The Little Napoleon
Lou’siana Lightning
The Mad Hungarian
Mad Max
The Mahatma
The Man of Steal
The Man with the Golden Arm
Master Melvin
Marse Joe
Mick the Quick
Mr. October
Mr. Putt Putt
The Monster
Nails
Old Aches and Pains
The Ol’ Perfesser
Pat the Bat
The Penguin
The People's Cherce
Poosh ‘em Up
Pudge
Puff the Magic Dragon
The Rooster
The Say Hey Kid
The Scooter
Shoeless Joe
The Splendid Splinter
Stan the Man
Stan the Man Unusual
Sudden Sam
Sugar Bear
Super Joe
Sweet Lou
Sweet Swingin’ Billy
Thor
The Terminator
Tortilla Fats
Tugboat
The Vulture
Wally World
The Wild Horse of the Osage
The Wild Thing
The Wizard of Oz
The Yankee Clipper
The Yankee Killer
. . . not to mention teams often given secondary nicknames such as . . .
The Amazin’ Mets
The Baby Birds
The Killer Bs
The Big Red Machine
The Bronx Bombers
The Boys of Summer
The Bronx Zoo
The Dalton Gang
Dem Bums
El Birdos
The Evil Empire
The Fam-i-Lee
The Gas House Gang
The Go-Go Sox
Harvey’s Wallbangers
The Hitless Wonders
The Idiots
Murderer’s Row
The Mustache Gang
The Nasty Boys
The Pittsburgh Lumber Company
The Philthy Phillies
The Runnin’ Redbirds
The Scum Bunch
The White Elephants
The Whiz Kids
. . . playing in ballparks given their own charming (har har) secondary nicknames, such as . . .
The Big Shea (Shea Stadium)
The Eighth Wonder of the World** (The Astrodome)
The Friendly Confines (Wrigley Field)
God’s Little Acre (Ebbets Field)
The House That Ruth Built (The original Yankee Stadium)
The House That Ruthless Rebuilt (The original Yankee Stadium, redone in 1975-76)
The Launching Pad (Atlanta Fulton County Stadium)
The Mistake on the Lake (Municipal Stadium, Cleveland)
The Old Girl (Tiger Stadium)***
The Old Grey Lady of 33rd Street (Memorial Stadium, Baltimore)
The Thunderdome (The Metrodome, Minneapolis, which I usually called the world's biggest gasbag)
* Kevin Youkilis's surname sounded Greek . . . but he's actually Jewish!
** When Joe Pepitone was traded from the Yankees to the Astros, he got one gander at the Astrodome and called it the world's biggest hair dryer.
*** When 1930s Tiger pitcher Elden Auker was part of the closing ceremonies for Tiger Stadium, a newspaper headline in his home city read: AUKER SAYS GOODBYE TO OLD GIRL. His maid panicked and asked his wife how long Auker was having an affair!