Every year the inevitable happens, the World Series ends and the earth descends into an ever present darkness. With the darkness comes the unbearable cruelty of a season of uninviting cold, the yelps of the failed heroes, and the ramblings of defeated souls. The injustice of time robs us of all the joy we had and passes us off to slovenly taskmasters that insist we are at odds with reality.
The darkness is always on the lookout, demanding absolute restraint, but once in a while a glimpse of truth sneaks through. High school baseball, on a February night on which, by infinite chance, I happened to buy a grill and hotdogs. I took a trip to visit a friend on a Monday night and happened upon the game. No more than 400 yards away, through a few yards and over a neighbors house was the game. A prompt assembling of the grill and a night warm enough to sit outside, allowed us a glimpse into the promise of things that can be. Though we were only be able to see the lights of the field, and hear a few of the sounds, it was enough. Every game that is possible to be played, in the future or the past, was just out of sight, but the clarity of the goodness that is The Game was evident.
Welcome back baseball, life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and all good things that will come roaring back with them. Good riddance to the dark overlords: football, greed, hate, cold, and basketball. Down with the Titans, and up with the Heroes.