Oughts, and the Roaring Twenties

I was thinking today about how fast 2008 is flying by, and how it is almost over. And when 2008 is over it will also mean we have only one year remaining of saying "ought" instead of "o" when referring to the third of the four digits in the year. It seems like only yesterday that my friends Bill, Mike, and I, were talking about how great it was going to be to say "Twenty ought-one" when everyone else says "twenty-oh-one," or "two-thousand-one." It's been a great decade, but ought-nine is all we have left. Once 2010 hits, I'm afraid there is nothing cool to call the year. "Twenty-ten?" "Two-thousand-ten?" Or if you're into the whole brevity thing, just "Ten?" Lame.

And speaking of years, if I can go forward even further, when baseball fans of my generation are really old I think there is potential for some confusing conversations. Baseball has a much longer history than its superior, football...and its inferior, basketball. As a result, it will be the first sport where you can talk about history and have to clarify which century you are referring to. I can see the following conversation taking place in say, the year 2043, when I am 62 years old (and my current Arizona Driver's License still has not yet expired):

Fan 1: "What a great offense the Mariners have. It reminds me of the world champion '27 Yankees."
Fan 2: "Ah yes, the 1927 Yankees of Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig."

Fan 1: "No dummy, I was referring to the 2027 Yankees of Derek Jeter Jr.* and {generate random baseball name that does not yet exist here.}"

*Yes, I know that even if Derek Jeter Jr. was born today, he would only be 19 years old in 2027. Whatever, just go with it.