I didn't know what white privilege was, but this is when I knew I had it

I was living in a town in western Iowa at the time and stopped by a bookstore in the local mall, a middle-brow chain that had stores in malls all over the country and was one of the first to go bankrupt after Amazon started taking over the industry.

I was the only customer in the store just then and perusing magazines at the newsstand, just killing time because there wasn’t much else to do in this town in western Iowa. The clerk behind the counter was the only employee and I can’t remember exactly what he was doing but I assume it was just general clerk-y things because he was paying no attention to me.

After a few minutes idly flipping through magazines, I was joined by another customer, his presence only vaguely registering with me because I was engrossed enough in my Time or Newsweek or whatever magazine I was reading—probably one that isn’t published anymore—to pay attention. Within seconds, a third person joined us: the clerk, who hadn’t been paying attention at all for the last five minutes. He stood next to us suddenly, rearranging magazines on the shelves that seemed to have been arranged just fine the whole time I’d been standing there. He didn’t quit, either, pushing magazines around until he became such a distraction that I noticed he just kept rearranging the same magazines over and over.

I also noticed, at that point, that the customer next to me was black, a young man so run of the mill in his overall appearance that his color is the only distinguishing feature in my memory. Nothing stood out about his clothes, his hair, his manner, at least nothing for me to remember, 20-some years later. Certainly nothing about his appearance should have lead a clerk to suspect he would walk out with a magazine stuffed inside his shirt anymore than a clerk would suspect I would do that.

Mike Pelfrey dominates......too bad it's against Single A players

Mike Pelfrey is not a very good pitcher. To call him mediocre is generous. His numbers this year (3-6, a whopping 6.11 ERA) make him one of the worst starting pitchers in the majors this season. He spent a few weeks on the DL and is back with the Twins for a start this weekend against Toronto, but his first game back was a rehab start with the Class A Cedar Rapids Kernels last Monday that I was at.

It was in all likelihood his best start in years, a crisply pitched, 6-inning win against Peoria, with six strikeouts, just two earned runs given up and lots of baffled 20 year old kids who aren’t used to seeing a major league pitcher. The game showed in stark relief the difference between a pitcher in the majors—even a bad one—and a pitcher at Single A.

Pelfrey was a man among boys out there. Before the game even began you noticed a difference in their size. Pelfrey is a 29-year old 8-year veteran, and puberty is long in his past. He’s thick and muscular, wide shouldered, and struck an imposing figure on the mound. Compare his adulthood to a typical Single A pitcher who is thin and scrawny, a wisp on the mound, all arms and legs, still close enough to puberty to be embarrassed by it.

Pelfrey also moved with an efficiency and purpose that most Single A pitchers lack as they try to figure out how to get their bodies to do what they want them to do. He didn’t waste energy moving unless that movement helped him get the ball to plate. Pelfrey pitched with haste, too, getting the ball and throwing it, getting the ball and throwing it, and avoiding three ball counts (he had only two all game).

Single A pitchers take so much time it’s like they’re reciting the Gettysburg Address to themselves between pitches, and three ball counts are the rule.