It was just yesterday I noticed the signs that have popped up around the suburbs, pleading passers-by to save Central Park.

Perhaps the signs have been there for some time and I have not spotted them, but I don’t believe that to be the case. They are similar to the ubiquitous campaign signs that show up at prominent points around elections, and frequently linger long after the decisions have been made.

So it is with these signs, which I presume are designed to promote efforts to preserve Central Park downtown as a bucolic escape from the city, albeit a city that is not exactly hustling and bustling.

Saving the park is a ship that, apparently, has sailed.

Having seen the signs, and having business in Johnstown (or so I thought) I made it a point to cruise past Central Park Wednesday.

At first, I thought there had been yet another Johnstown homicide, due to the park being festooned with yellow tape reminiscent of police crime scenes.

In an ironic way, the yellow tape was fitting. It was a crime scene of sorts — one against nature. Without stopping, it was evident the fountain has been removed from its brick circle. Can the bricks of its pool be far behind?

Benches are missing, but fencing is in place to keep people out. No problem there. Taking away seating and the fountain accomplishes that.

How long before the place turns into yet another concrete oasis, which repels humans who might want to get a look at some grass and trees in an urban setting?

This whole Central Park refresh is typical Johnstown. Shake the begging bowl for grant money, spend a lot of it on consultants from other areas to tell us what we want, distribute the contracts to the usual suspects, and provide the citizens with something they neither needed nor wanted.

But the elites got what they wanted and that’s all that matters.

Their cover story is the COVID-19 rescue plan money needed to be spent on the park. If that is so, why even bother to request the funds merely to gild a lily?

Why not pursue grant money that could be used for a better purpose?

Trips to downtown are infrequent for me these days, so I won’t be monitoring closely the ruination of Central Park.

I’m sure they will do a fine (sarcasm) job by Johnstown standards and accomplish what they usually do, which is wasting money that might have been used for something more productive and desired.

Shooting from the lip seems to be contagious.

I expect it from the Libtard Democrats and their mouthpieces in the LameStream media. I don’t expect it from the likes of high-profile Republican Trey Gowdy. But, there was Gowdy Wednesday morning on Fox News, even as details were just rolling in regarding the Minnesota school shooting, making absurd assertions amidst the uncertainty.

Among Gowdy’s bon mots: “It’s always a young, white male.”

Gowdy also jumped on board with the usual suspects among Democrat leadership, like Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries, who were rushing to politicize the tragedy to help push gun control.

How spectacularly cynical these empty suits are. The bodies of the students were barely cold and they were spewing political talking points. Pathetic.

Let’s address Gowdy’s ridiculous observations.

Technically, it was a white male. Except, it was a trans male who identified as a woman and, with the aid of his mother, had legally changed his first name from Robert to Robin to reflect his gender confusion while still a minor.

He/she/it apparently was white, but by its own account, was not a male.

This sick shooter is just part of a growing trend of trans violence. These mentally ill individuals are groomed and weaponized by the far left that looks to take down the United States by destroying the institutions of family, marriage, religion, and law and order.

Where the hell were this sicko’s parents? They raised and knew this monster his entire life and never suspected he was a few bricks shy of a load?

The mother reportedly formerly had worked at the very same school where her spawn killed two students. Some have written that the shooter once attended school there.

A Nashville school shooting a few years back was by a trans individual. Trans have attacked Tesla dealerships, ICE officers, and other schools.

The Minneapolis mayor was quick to jump on a soapbox and decry any who would note the shooter was a trans. Can’t be saying that in a trans sanctuary city in a trans sanctuary state.

Gee, didn’t Tampon Tim’s tampon-dispensing machines in boys’ bathrooms and locker rooms help ease this individual’s pain?

Regardless, we can’t point out it was yet another trans shooter, but leftists can demonize gun owners as a group,

I own guns and never have shot anyone, never shot at anyone, never pointed a loaded gun at anyone. I am in the vast majority of gun owners on those fronts.

Yet, the liberal left feels free to impugn gun owners as a group any time a mentally ill type uses a gun to kill innocents.

Another right-leaning toolbag on Fox went on a screeching rant about the need for so-called Red Flag laws, which give governments the right to take away weapons just because they have someone contact them to say that they perceive the individual owner to be a risk.

Minnesota has Red Flag laws. Tell me how well that worked. Such laws are useful when someone wants to harass someone they dislike. But this shooter’s parents or family didn’t drop a dime to suggest it was dangerous and should not possess weapons.

Even gun haters will acknowledge there are a huge number of guns in the United States, legally or illegally. More laws would not change that.

Think of guns as illegal aliens. Even if you stop the inflow, you still have a major, perhaps unsolvable problem.

And this fails to take into account the many examples – often ignored by LameStream media – when a good guy or gal with a gun took down a would-be mass shooter.

Back when I belonged to the NRA, the one monthly publication of the group ran a list of such stories in each issue. I can’t recall a single issue without many reports.

Leftists are fond of insisting you not dwell on the facts, just listen to their propaganda. They assured us under the watch of Clueless Joe Biden that COVID jabs were safe and effective, the border was secure, there was no inflation, Joe really wasn’t as senile as he seemed, violent riots were “mostly peaceful” and the White House lawn was just the place to stage gay pride events.

Enough people saw through those lies that Donald Trump wiped out Cacking Kamala, the Democrat’s handpicked Biden successor, in the last national election.

Will enough citizens see through the politicization of this Minnesota shooting? We can only hope.

This is a not a request for pity, or the opening PR salvo in a campaign designed to climax with the creation of a GoFundMe account, benefitting me, of course. Instead, it is an exercise designed to explain why I don’t consider myself a lucky person.

Not that I’m complaining; merely sharing my experiences to brighten the moods of people similarly encumbered with poor luck.

Understand up front, I’m talking about luck as in fortune that follows many in the niggling matters of life. These are people consistently greeted with green lights, open doors, short lines, unexpected deals and money falling into their laps for no earthly reason.

This seldom happens to me.

In the big picture, though, I am fortunate. I would argue that I made some of my own luck in major matters such as having a marriage spanning more than four decades, being able to retire at the ripe, young age of 53 ½, having a son, three granddaughters and an assortment of worldly possessions.

Despite all that, I understand things will not go well on a day-to-day basis. I’ve known this since my youth, and have compensated by working harder, allowing more time to complete a task than one would ordinarily need, and generally making allowances to deal with the reality of things not going smoothly.

I have recent examples. My main credit card was set to expire in October, so the good folks at the company sent me new cards. It was on me to update all the many things I have automatically billed to said card.

For the most part, it was not too taxing. But the company that provides health insurance for my wife and I was a multi-hour challenge. It all began with being unable to log in to our accounts because somewhere along the line the company had decided it needed better passwords from members. I wish they had told me of this.

I had to change both passwords, getting stuck in a recurring loop of needing to try to log in, getting a security code texted to me, entering said code and . . . being prompted to request a code in order to log in to the accounts.

Once I got inside it all, it was far from clear how to achieve the simple task of changing a card expiration date. A call to the subscriber line got me in touch with a woman who insisted there was not a single soul in the company who could do this for me. I doubted her.

I tried online chat, which helped, sort of. I was on one tab chatting, but had to open another tab to make the change. I did so, at the command of the masked chatter, and my chat session was automatically aborted.

But, I got the change made. On a side note, I used the new credit card twice today, for the first time since the activation, and it seemed to work.

Now, if all my online billings are correctly upated and function well. I’m guessing more woe to come on that front.

The very same time I got the new credit cards (a few weeks back) I got a card to get my photo taken for a new driver’s license. I had put off both tasks anticipating – correctly – much grief.

But, as long as I did the credit cards, I would venture to the photo center along Walters Avenue to get that done Tuesday.

The waiting room was packed when I got there, but I got a ticket for my task with only four others ahead of me. There is an electric sign that monitors progress and another guy noted to me that it was a study in government efficiency that someone had put up an instruction sign that partially covered the bottom row of the electric sign that called one’s number.

I waited about 15 minutes before getting my call, which is not too bad. It got much worse.

Ahead of me was a guy who probably wasn’t a day over 150. He had problems with basics, such as hearing, seeing, or following instructions. I wondered if this guy actually had driven to the site.

When he sat for his license photo, he got the impression he was having a portrait taken at a photo studio. He passed on at least three pictures before finally accepting – grudgingly – one for the license.

Trust me, no photographer could have made this guy handsome. Same with me, so when I got to pick I accepted the first effort, a typical criminal mugshot type of thing.

The picky photo man moved to fumbling and bumbling with questions one must answer using a numbered keypad and a computer screen. After maybe 10 attempts, and lot of coaching, he got through the ordeal.

Again, if this person actually drove to the center, we’re all in danger any time he’s on the road.

It was my turn and after a bit of adjustment of my body position to remove glare from my glasses, the picture was taken, I whipped through the questions and was told to sit and await my license. The problem was, available chairs were taken, so I leaned against the wall.

After four or five others, some of whom had come in after me, were sent on their way, I became a tad concerned.

I went to the person handling the check-in and license distribution and was told there’d been an error with printing my license and either I could wait, or they would send it to me,

I waited, not trusting adding links to the chain. But, it struck me I’d seen a lot of people come and go at this facility, including 10 or so while I was in the actual photo room, and all had been without incident – other than the Joe Biden-type guy who had gone just ahead of me. And the only delays he endured were self-inflicted.

Even that guy, with all his hesitation and uncertainty, was sent on his way with his Real ID package before I got my license.

Eventually, my license came through and I was able to depart. All told, I probably spent 35 to 40 minutes at the place. It seemed longer.

I could have shaved 10 to 15 minutes off that if things had gone as they did for the others.

Again, I’m not complaining here, just sharing.

The sun is shining Monday morning and the birds (at least those that live in my house) are singing. If only things were going as well on the socio-economic, political and war fronts.

‘Tis time for a question and answer blog post to weigh in on current events.

Q: Isn’t it sad that Kilmar Abrego Garcia is being denied due process and is facing deportation to Uganda?

A: Not really. The so-called “Maryland Dad” is owed little “due process” as a person in this country illegally. Read my lips: He is not a CITIZEN!!!!!! I can’t believe the leftist, activist judges got him back on the streets, for perhaps another chance to beat his wife. It is that wife who went to police claiming spousal abuse, recall. Get him out of this country, and send about 14 million other illegals with him. I will glady pay legal citizens more to mow my grass and watch my children, except I mow my own grass and though my son is an adult, my wife and I do watch his children free of charge.

Q: How can President Donald Trump and his posse decry socialism while taking stock in computer chip manufacturer Intel?

A: Because, as more than one economist, analyst or adviser has noted, the government already had given Intel billions of dollars via the Clueless Joe Biden giveaway that went by the name of the Chips Act. The Intel stock the federal government has received is a form of paying back the money. If perennial whiners like Rand Paul want to claim socialism, fine. But, the socialism was commited by the Biden gang and Trump is merely acting to get compensation for the handout.

Q: What are the odds Ukraine and Russia will come to an agreement to stop the fighting?

A: Slim and none, and none just left for the Middle East, where Zelenskyy’s inner circle has been accused by some media of sending $50 million or so a month to create a soft-landing spot. Left with a choice of trusting Zelenskyy or Putin, I opt for neither. Give Trump credit for trying. But he’s got to realize this is one promise he cannot fulfill because it’s mostly in the hands of others. Include in that group the European leaders who came uninvited to Washington, D.C., to chaperone Zelenskyy on his last visit here.

Q: But, surely you think the U.S. should weigh in on the side of Ukraine if fighting continues?

A: No. Sure, sell arms to Ukraine, but make sure we’re not just getting paid with the money we’ve already sent there. No boots on the ground. No air support. No more handouts. Unlike the war on drugs, here is a conflict we can win by just saying no.

Q: Why do people continue to get the vapors over the prospect of Mamdani The Commie being elected mayor of New York City?

A: Not sure. It will turn the city into even more of a hell hole, but, like most of those expressing concern, I don’t live in New York City and have no plans to visit. If the good voters of the metropolis elect this hack, they deserve all the pain they will receive. If and when Mamdani does win, opponents can vote with their feet and leave. Also, once Mamdani either fails to deliver on promises of free stuff, or does so and wrecks the city finances, just say no to him, too, when he comes begging for a federal bailout. Big boys have to pay for their own messes, even if they are so weak they need help bench-pressing a small amount of weight.

Reports of the death of comedy have been exaggerated.

Yes, traditional comedy has been replaced by the political screeds of virtue signalling types who are afraid to lampoon and perhaps offend the left and risk cancellation. This has resulted, among other things, in late night TV shows, once a bastion of comedic hosts, becoming tepid cess pools of political correctness.

In turn, the decline in entertainment value — and ratings — has led to the need to jettison one practitioner, the stuffy, decidedly unfunny COAL BEAR. Can Jimmmeeeee be far behind?

Yet, there is comedy to be found, in unlikely places.

Fox News gives a nightly comedic smorgasbord from the new king of late night, Greg Gutfeld. But, one need not wait for the 10 o’clock airing of his show on weeknights. I’ve noticed a lot of comedy – both intentional and unintended – to be found in news shows and online.

Earlier this week, I saw not one, but two comedy classics during cable news broadcasts.

Both times, D.C. protesters were the unwitting foils.

In the first example, an illegal was being apprehended and the onlookers were spewing typical leftist venom, challenging the law enforcement types to take off their masks, demanding to know their affiliation (apparently the cretins couldn’t read “Police” written on their vests) and generally being blue-haired, nose ring-wearing asses.

One brave type, perhaps secure in the knowledge he would not lose his job after being videoed acting like a moron because he had none, yelled out, “You guys are ruining this country. You know that, right?”

Without missing a beat, one of the guys in a police vest shot back: “Liberals already ruined it.”

Can you feel the burn? Never heckle a comedian, and never chant stale slogans at police, who just might have prepared some comeback material.

Later the same night, also in D.C., a miscreant was being apprehended in the subway and brought up an escalator.

A leftist bovine type, who looked like she hadn’t missed a meal since Obama was president, was offering unsolicited career advice to the law enforcement people, noting they could do something else useful with their lives, perhaps be veterinarians.

Well this apparent female did look a lot like a cow, which prompted one guy to respond to her line that maybe he could choose another career with “You can choose to eat a salad!”

Bang. In this battle of wits, the protester was unarmed.

JD Vance got in some good one-liners directed at protesters during a visit to D.C.’s train station later in the week.

And President Trump’s social media account postings are lethal and funny,

Protester idiocy, general ineptitude, and media types writing like English is their second language, all can provide a few laughs.

Recently, a Savannah, Ga., TV station, during a report on Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Penix Jr., ran “Michael Penis Jr.” as the on-screen graphic beneath his interview.

Blame spellcheck if you must, but shouldn’t someone check this stuff before it goes out over the air?

I was reading a story on yahoo.com about the latest intruder from deep space that has invaded our solar system.

Began the first paragraph: “A strange object hurdling . . . “ “Hurdling” would suggest this interplanetary object was jumping over things as it sped through space. I’m thinking the writer meant “hurtling,” as in moving at great speed, which sounds similar and would have gone undetected if it were just a spoken, not written report.

This reminds me of a former Johnstown TV and radio type who did freelance columns for the newspaper and who thought they’re, there and their, all were the same word and all spelled their.

Again, on the air, he sounded perfectly fine. Reduced to the written word, he came off as a functional illiterate, at least to the staff that had to retype his columns. We had the good grace to clean up his writing to use there, their or they’re where appropriate. He probably never noticed.

But, all these years later, I still get a good chuckle over the memory, just as the aforementioned examples from this week provided comic relief.

Allegations of fudging the crime numbers in Washington, D.C., are rekindling old memories.

Current, younger residents of the crime-ridden Greater Johnstown Area might be surprised to hear that 50 to 60 years ago, Johnstown’s low crime rate was an annual point of pride.

Like clockwork, the feds would crunch crime numbers and Johnstown would emerge as being one of the safer, if not the safest cities in the nation. The local newspaper, before it became the Woke Gazette, would report this as gospel and so it went, year after year.

I do recall, however, even back then some found the numbers to be a tad suspect. Members of the public, based on anecdotal evidence — either crimes they saw reported in the newspaper, TV stations or radio stations, or crimes that happened to people they knew, or were committed by people they knew – wondered aloud how the numbers could be so low and things so idyllic in our little valley.

Gradually, those low crime numbers went the way of 28-cent-a-gallon gasoline. Fast-forward to today and few would proclaim this area to be a model city with an extremely low crime rate.

During my early days working at the Johnstown newspaper, I did a brief stint as the night police beat reporter. That meant monitoring the police scanner religiously, and each shift making three separate walks to the Public Safety Building along nearby Washington Street. The first was to check in on fire calls, the second, to go upstairs and get the police reports and, about 10:30 or so each night, there was a trip for catching up with detectives after they’d completed their night shift.

There was a police reporter who did this during daylight hours, too.

On one nightly detective visit, I was chatting with a detective who happened to be a neighbor. His partner decided he would use our ride together down the elevator to give me a lecture.

Simply put, this detective said when I, or a fellow staffer, came over and was told there was nothing to report, we should race back to our typewriters (yes, we used manual typewriters in those days) and hammer out something to the effect: “No crime was committed in the city tonight. Detectives and police officers were on the job, keeping all safe.”

My response, not word for word, but the general idea: “That could be the case. Also, it could be the case that the town was filled with crime and the police/detectives were too disinterested or inept to do anything about it.”

The detective did not take this well. Things got very tense very quickly.

A day or two later, my detective neighbor told me I’d really hit a nerve. Just before I told the other detective this bit about incompetence, that guy had botched a burglary investigation by storming in and handling evidence, leaving his fingerprints on many pertinent objects, such as doors, windows and various household items.

Beyond this specific incident, I also had been told on more than one occasion before joining the newspaper about suspicions the Johnstown Police were under-reporting crime.

That is exactly what some of the D.C. allegations charge, ranging from downgrading felonies to misdemeanors, to just igoring crimes in general. No paperwork, no bad data for the number crunchers.

Although our Johnstown Police force has been expanded in recent years and things are safer than at the nadir, there was a memorable night maybe 15 years ago that my wife, listening to the police scanner, heard a touching 911 call. A woman in Moxham was upstairs and an intruder had broken into her home downstairs.

The woman called 911 and the call went out to the police. The problem was our fair city had exactly one policeman working the streets that night and he was on a call in the West End which, for the geographically challenged, is the opposite side of our town.

The advice to the woman was to barricade herself in the room, get a weapon of opportunity such as perhaps a knife, and the police officer would get around to the Moxham call after he was done in the West End.

We never did hear how that turned out.

This, I told my wife at the time, is I why I own guns, have a carry permit, and target shoot often enough that I probably could put down a home invader by the time my gun’s magazine came up empty.

To sum up, I would not be shocked if crime numbers in Washington, D.C., have been massaged lower, or currently are being so manipulated. We thought that about Johnstown once upon a time.

If President Trump tomorrow wanted to send the National Guard into Johnstown, or my neighborhood for that matter, to reduce crime, I’d be all for it.

And, if you are repulsed by the Democrats’ apparent preference for lawlessness on the streets and want to guarantee that never again beomes governmental policy, be sure you make good voting decisions in each and every upcoming election.

I’m back after spending a week indulging in the escapism of local sports success, then taking another week away from writing for the blog just to savor the memories.

I’ve been jerked back to reality by many things, from Democrats attempting to gerrymander congressional districts in various blue states to make their representation edge even more overstated, to the blue-hair, nose-ring crowd continuing to support lawbreaking illegal immigrants, and, more recently, the give and take regarding President Trump’s attempts to end the fighting in Ukraine.

Radical leftists label it a waste of time. Far right types saw amazing success. Me? I saw a starting point, but it was history unfolding in real time and that captivated me.

I spent Friday watching coverage of the Trump-Putin meeting in Alaska. Memorable moments include Putin’s reaction to the flyover of a stealth bomber and four support fighters. It came as Trump and Putin walked a red carpet, between parked fighter jets, a carefully staged scene. Watch replays and see Putin first notice the planes overhead and how he kept glancing at them, both as they were coming and going.

Critics say it was juvenile theater from Trump. I say it’s knowing your opponent. Again, watch the tape. Putin couldn’t look away. He understands displays of strength and power.

I’m just guessing here, but Putin very might have been thinking Trump has used these planes in anger vs. Iran and just might do it again, say, vs. Russia.

Also, the stealth bomber in motion is an impressive thing. This probably is as close as Putin has been to one. I recall a Super Bowl I covered in San Diego when a bomber did a pregame flyover. Impressive stuff, trust me.

There were other interesting theatrics to the welcoming. Trump tried to grab Putin and pull him in the for the handshake, but Putin was braced. My wife noted for a time Putin had his hand atop Trump’s, but I pointed out to her Trump quickly covered with his free hand.

After the talking was through for the day, Putin went first and rambled about history at a press conference, while Trump followed and was uncharacteristically brief. The Fox News reporterette covering the event saw unhappiness from Trump, but then had to retract that on-air when it was reported Trump had told Sean Hannity he gave the meeting a 10 on a scale of 1 to 10.

It was amusing to hear that Shrillary Clinton had said she would nominate Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize . . . if he got a one-sided deal for Ukraine, then put on porkchop underwear and walked through a pack of German Shepherd guard dogs while also getting Putin to strip naked and walk back to Moscow with a Ukraine flag draped over his shoulders.

Perhaps if Trump could drum up a few billion of dollars in contributions to the sagging Clinton Foundation, too, that would motivate her further.

Spoiler alert: Clinton isn’t going to nominate Trump for a Nobel prize and it’s unlikely today’s meeting with enfant terrible Zelenskyy will produce any progress.

As stated here before, Zelenskyy reminds me of Smoky the feral cat who has taken up sometimes residence on my front porch. My wife feeds him and he has been known to turn up his nose if the fare is not to his liking

Along that line, my wife bought him an insulated house to help him make it through the winter, but when a neighbor put out an electric heating pad for him, Smoky moved right to her porch.

I understand Smoky, even scratch his ears at times. I do not, however, invite him into the house, much to the chagrin of the granddaughters.

Zelenskyy soiled the Oval Office carpet when last Trump let him inside the White House and I feel sure when his handlers remove him this time from the baby carseat he travels in, Zelenskyy will be similarly ill-mannered.

There are, however, rumors, he might actually dress for the occasion by wearing a business suit instead of his quasi-combat gear.

Zelsnskyy will show up with various European leaders to support him. They won’t give him actual arms and money – let the U.S. do that – but they love to give lip service anytime cameras are rolling.

These people, along with the Neo-con contingent from both U.S. political parties, want to keep the Ukraine carnage going. Zelenskyy seems to be similarly inclined, perhaps realizing if the war ends and elections resume, he’s headed back to his former role as B-list comedian.

If Zelenskyy forgets his manners again, I’m hoping JD Vance takes him out to the rose garden and goes all UFC on him.

Maybe Zelenskyy will act like an adult this time. But I’m still thinking the odds are about zero any progress toward peace is going to be made today.

Are you tired of winning yet, Johnstown? I didn’t think so. I know I’m not

What a weekend it has been for area diamond sports. Saturday night at Point Stadium, we had two Johnstown-based entries playing for the championship of the 80^th AAABA Tournament.

Mainline Pharmacy defeated Martella’s Pharmacy to take the title, in a huge night for baseball here. The weather was perfect, the crowd was substantial and the game was well-played on both sides.

One almost wished it could have gone on indefinitely.

Afterward, having the two teams gather with the corps of female tournament ambassadors for a group photo was a special moment.

But, that wasn’t the end of the weekend diamond success for our area.

Sunday in North Carolina, the West Suburban girls team won the Little League Softball World Series, the first Pennsylvania team to do so since 1978.

Reagan Bills tossed yet another shutout, and drove in the lone run as the Johnstown entry prevailed over a team from Indiana.

I watched some of the West Suburban girls’ games on TV and was impressed with their spirit, ability and confidence.

I’m pushing 70 years of age, and have been a sports fan here since I was a toddler, but I cannot recall a similar multi-headed sporting success for Greater Johnstown.

Truly, if you live long enough, you see things that amaze you. This is such a time.

Congratulations to all involved. You provided special memories for a lot of people in the area.

Now that Mainline Pharmacy has done the job and set up an all-Johnstown franchise final for the 80th AAABA Tournament championship, thoughts turn to other considerations.

If you are a Mainline fan, you could understandably be feeling both elated and frustrated at the same time after seeing your team come from behind to beat New Brunswick, 5-4, in the night game at Point Stadium Friday. Here’s why.

Mainline won the regular-season title over Martella’s and then won the best-of-5 championship series 3 games to 1.

Yet, Saturday night at Point Stadium, Martella’s needs to win just a single game against Mainline to render all that somehow irrelevant, capturing the tournament championship in the process

Simply put, single games are not the best judge of teams’ relative baseball ability. It is a game in which teams prove their worth over the long haul.

There is a reason Major League Baseball plays the longest regular season among major sports, and has corrected the mistake of one-game wild-card matchups, now going with best-of-3 series in that round.

No sport offers an underdog the greater ability to win a single game than baseball. A hot pitcher, or a standout pitcher having a bad night, can lead to the better team losing. Similarly, batters and fielders can have an off night, or a hot game, skewing the outcome in favor of the lesser team over the small sample of one game.

The AAABA Tournament’s move to pool play years back, besides guaranteeing teams three games here, also was billed as smoothing out the outcomes in separating the better teams from their lesser counterparts.

Once out of pool play, however, it becomes lose and leave.

This is not all that unfair considering most times the opposing teams don’t have a history between them, at least not to the degree that Martella’s and Mainline do. Some might argue it was tough that Mainline had to beat New Brunswick for the second time in a few days to advance. Mainline got it done; not without extreme effort.

Now, having Martella’s able to win the tournament championship with a single win over a Mainline team that has proven in the regular season and league playoffs to be the better unit, somehow offends the senses.

Since both teams are based here, a best-of-3 series would be more equitable test. It won’t happen, but maybe it should.

Johnstown is halfway to a guaranteed championship in the 80^th AAABA Tournament. Pause a moment to allow that to register.

Johntown fans of my generation grew up lamenting so what’s new, out in two, back when two losses meant elimination from the tournament. This year, we’re on the verge of getting two through — to the title game!

The current event, having gone to a pool play format years back, entered Friday with a AAABA final four that included both Johnstown entries. And now, after Martella’s pulled off a dramatic, 5-4 victory Friday afternoon over New Orleans at Point Stadium, Johnstown has two of the three teams remaining alive.

It’s up to Mainline Pharmacy, champions of the Johnstown league this year and thereby Johnstown-1, to take care of business vs. New Brunswick tonight and we’ll have a Johnstown-Johnstown matchup Saturday for the title. A guaranteed championship for the hosts. Be still, my heart.

To think of something similar, my mind races back to my senior year of high school, when our 1972-73 Johnstown High School basketball team of Don Maser, Pat Cummings, Jack Buchan, Ken Horoho, etc., was unbeaten and played Johnstown Vo-Tech for the District 6 championship at the War Memorial.

The entire Vo-Tech starting lineup was Johnstown kids, too. It was like an intra-squad game for the district title.

I understand that all the players on the “Johnstown” AAABA rosters aren’t Johnstown kids. We’ve come a long way from the time our Junior League rules had a 25-mile limit, which produced Tom Qualters of Somerset being ineligible to play for Johnstown and instead coming here with the Baltimore team, which won the 1976 tournament. To rub it in, Qualters was co-MVP of it all.

To people who lament the presence of so-called “outsiders” on the Johnstown AAABA teams, do they really think all the Steelers, Pirates or Penguins were born and raised in Pittsburgh?

Do they root for college teams like Pitt and Penn State that recruit players from other cities, states and even countries?

So, it doesn’t bother me that Martella’s has a player on the roster whose residence is listed as Novi, Michigan.

I’m a fan of the teams that I root for winning games and titles. That’s why I got a bit excited today.

I will admit I didn’t enter the game with high hopes. Yes, this is not, as some told me even today, your father’s New Orleans team. But, it’s still a name one can safely predict to do well tournament after tournament.

It didn’t help my mood when New Orleans hit the scoreboard with a three-spot in the first inning. Frankly, another two runs or so for New Orleans and I was going to start up the metaphorical bus and leave.

But, here is where a tip of the cap to Martella’s is in order. This is a franchise with an obvious winning culture. It didn’t win the Johnstown league playoffs, but still came into the tournament expecting to succeed, and it has.

Down 3-0 in an elimination game, the team dug in, fought back, and eventually took the lead, only to hold on by the fingernails.

It is the kind of spirit typified by a quote from the legendary Green Bay Packers coach Vince Lombardi, who is purported to have said his team didn’t lose, it just ran out of time.

Even if Martella’s had lost this game, it would have been a noble effort.

But Martella’s won, on a game-ending doubleplay with a New Orleans runner inexplicably diving into first base.

I once heard the quintessential explanation for why running through the base is faster. If diving was better, then all sprinters would faceplant reaching for the finish tape. They don’t and neither should baserunners headed to first, where one does not need to stop at the base.

It was one of several such dives by New Orleans players.

New Orleans now can head home to practice those headfirst dives.

Meanwhile, Mainline Pharmacy has a game to play tonight. A win would assure a Johnstown team has a date with destiny Saturday.

On a side note, I’m hoping a crowd comes out tonight to root home Mainline. This afternoon game had attendance that fell more into the intimate gathering category than being a crowd. That was the only disappointing aspect of it all.