I love baseball.
April is approaching. And this could be the Cubs’ year. Then again, it could be just like the previous one hundred plus years. Then again, it could.
“It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.” [A. Bartlett] Giamatti wrote that it “keeps time fat and slow and lazy.” As he noted correctly, “In 1839, the rule became fixed that one runs [the bases] counterclockwise. Time does not matter in baseball.”*
“He summed up his inspiring worldview in an essay about the Sox–Yankees playoff game in 1978, which featured a wonderful analogy: Each batter, for him, is Odysseus. Baseball is about homecoming. It is a journey by theft and strength, guile and speed, out around first to the far island of second, where foes lurk in the reefs and the green sea suddenly grows deeper, then to turn sharply, skimming the shallows, making for a shore that will show a friendly face, a color, a familiar language and, at third, to proceed, no longer by paths indirect but straight, to home. Baseball is about going home, and how hard it is to get there and how driven is our need. It tells us how good home is. Its wisdom says you can go home again but that you cannot stay. The journey must always start once more, the bat an oar over the shoulder, until there is an end to all journeying. Nostos; the going home; the game of nostalgia, so apt an image for our hunger that it hurts.”*
Expectations will join the other MLB teams fighting the Cubs for a World Series championship.
Opening Day is near.
Go Cubs Go! Go Cubs Go!
Hey Chicago, what do you say?
*Baseball As the Road to God, by John Sexton
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ALWAYS BE EPIC.