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. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops….And summer is gone.
- A. Bartlett Giamatti
I remember when Mr. Giamatti passed away. The networks played this poem and it was read by Ernie Harwell. It’s stuck ever since and whenever another season is in the books, I like breaking it out.
It’s funny how even on Sundays, with football, I find myself surfing the stations trying to find something to watch, knowing just a month ago I could hop on over to WGN to catch a Cubs game or knowing that Sunday evenings ESPN would have their game of the week. Baseball’s done, now I just have to cope with it.
Congratulations to the Chicago White Sox for winning their first World Series in 88 years. Jeff K and Dan threw out how much the 2005 White Sox resembled the 1984 Tigers, and I have to agree.
I’ll be doing my post season awards predictions this week, along with a few other odds and ends.