Jeff–Saturday
It’s the time of year when we who live among deciduous trees in daylight-savings-time lands watch helplessly as the gold, ruby, orange, and yellow trappings of the forest fall away, and the late evening light that’s subtly dwindled each day since mid-June, disappears overnight in barter for a brighter dawn.
That could be an allegory for what humanity faces at this moment. But I’d rather not think of it that way. Besides, you do not need me to tell you the direction in which our world is headed. My only suggestion to my American brethren is VOTE on Tuesday, November 8th as if your very life depends upon it. Because it does.
No, I’d much rather talk about the World Series.
With that statement I’m certain I’ve lost most of my audience. For the rest of you, please allow me to explain what has propelled me to write about a best of seven games series to determine the 2022 champion team of American baseball. This year, between the Houston Astros and the Philadelphia Phillies.
I shall spare you any details about the teams or how they got into the Series. There’s plenty of that sort of stuff available elsewhere. I just want to explain what brought me to this point.
My son—who lives in Houston—was visiting and wanted to watch the first game. So we did…all nine innings from beginning to end…for nearly four hours.
As a child, my father took me and my brothers to many a Pittsburgh Pirates game, and I was a fierce fan. Those were halcyon days, with the underdog Pirates winning world championships in 1960, 1971, and 1979. I, though, had lost my fervor for the game when my favorite player, Roberto Clemente (#21), lost his life on December 31, 1972 in the crash of a cargo plane transporting relief supplies to earthquake devastated Nicaragua.
The game I watched a week ago Friday with my son was the first time in a very long time that I sat through a complete game. And even though Houston lost, what a terrific game it was…so much so that I’ve watched every game since, bringing great joy to my wife. NOT.
The interesting thing is, I don’t really care who wins! It is an extraordinary Series, filled with mystery, drama, strategic moves, historic achievements, awesome athletic feats, unbelievable twists, turns, disappointments, and rebirths. It’s what baseball always meant to me, and a more hopeful allegory for our times.
So, to those of you who’ve read this far, the Series stands at Houston leading Philadelphia by three games to two (3-2). The next game is today (Saturday) at 8 PM ET in Houston, with the final game – if necessary – on Sunday in Houston at the same time.
You know where I’ll be for the game(s). As for Barbara, I’m sure she’ll leave me a note—maybe even cookies.
–Jeff
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Friday, November 18, 2002 @10am
ICELAND NOIR
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If you're sitting through four hour ball and bat games, Jeff, pretty soon you can graduate to cricket test matches...five DAYS.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the info, Michael. I knew there was a reason I preferred listening to crickets over watching them at play.
DeleteBooHOO!!
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