Time & Perspective Quote by Bud Selig

Patriotism, here, is delivered like a press release that has suddenly realized it’s standing at a graveside. Bud Selig’s line comes from the hours after 9/11, when sports executives were being asked to do an impossible thing: justify games in a world that no longer felt like it had rules. The first sentence is pure American civic catechism, big and blunt enough to hold shock: “the greatest country in the history of the world.” It’s not an argument so much as a reflex, a way to stabilize a moment that’s spinning.

Then he swerves. “So all of this doesn’t mean very much today” is the remarkable part because it undercuts the entire machinery he represents. Selig isn’t just talking about baseball; he’s talking about the calendar of normal life, the assumption that entertainment can proceed untouched. The “this” is deliberately vague, a kind of catchall for schedules, standings, revenue, the comforting trivialities that usually occupy a commissioner’s microphone. Vagueness becomes tact: he doesn’t name the sport because naming it would feel like advertising.

The subtext is an institutional confession. Sports sell significance for a living - history, legacy, “moments” - and in crisis that significance can collapse instantly. Selig is acknowledging hierarchy: there are days when the scoreboard is obscene. At the same time, the grandiose opener hints at another motive: to frame the event as a national wound, not just a tragedy, and to position baseball as part of the country’s emotional recovery once “today” passes.