Winners of the Bonei Zion Prize were announced today. The prize is awarded by an organization called Nefesh B’Nefesh to immigrants in Israel who have made an impact on Israeli society within their field, the organization that helped me and every other immigrant from North America move to Israel. And now they’ve turned their back on me, on their own boy, for, to everyone’s suprise, I, Supreme Leader of the Most Powerful and Only Jewish Baseball Organization in the World, despite being nominated, did not win the $10,000 prize money. The streets wept. The wind whispered Mary. How, I know, Ladies and Geetles, you ask, could this have happened? Clearly Beyonce deserved the award. The prize committee simply does not recognize great artistry when they see it. Furthermore, who– what man, what god, could have possibly had a greater impact in Israel than the King of All Jewish Baseball? To which I say… good question.
The answer is Asher Weill. Isn’t it always? I would like to apologize to Asher before I set out to destroy him. For it is not his fault this mistake was made. And I know nothing of the man besides that he has my $10,000. He surely was, like me, an unknowing, hopeful nominee, who probably deserves the award, but is now the unfortunate focus of my Literary Laser Beam of Considerable Force and Strength, as I like to call it. Asher and I were both nominated in the category of Arts, Culture, and Sports, three things that have been forced together through the Natural Powers of Stupidity that govern the universe, and in which sports will always lose, lacking the exact, specific, how do I say, particular brand of bourgeois appeal a committee of this ilk is looking for.
Arts? Culture? Sports? Despite having nothing to do with one another, could there be a more perfect combination of things for me? Writer, painter, poet, fashion icon, player, coach, the list goes on. I should not only have only won this award, but all three should they have been different categories. Yes, that’s right, I seek not only the $10,000 owed to me, but $30,000 in reparations. Again, let me repeat, I know nothing of Asher, and care not to investigate, as is the way of my generation, I simply know, generally speaking, the editor of a magazine cannot have the same impact as a coach, if impact is in fact what we are looking for, and that comes from a person who believes there is nothing more important in this world than the sharing of ideas in the form of written words, clearly. I ask, about Asher, how many children does he speak to each day? How many high fives does he give out? How many smiles? How many poor people know him? How many young people? How many days a week does he leave work covered in dirt and blood? Israel is ranked twenty-first in the world in baseball. What is Asher ranked? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?
Joking aside, congrats to the winners, especially Asher. And thank you to Nefesh B’Nefesh for recognizing to contributions of paltry immigrants like ourselves. I have no idea who he is or what miracles he has performed to win this prize, but I am sure he deserves it, maybe, kind of, on some level, he has to have done something, one thing, maybe two, at some point in his life to have earned it, possibly.
Enjoy your loot, Asher! And mazal tov. Dinner on you.
http://www.timesofisrael.com/liveblog_entry/nefesh-bnefesh-announces-bonei-zion-award-winners/
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