Baseball frivolity and destiny

This summer baseball consumes my attention and imagination as much or probably more than any other summer. The morning begins with brief yet serious work on my fantasy teams. I try to do whatever else that must be done after that while anticipating the start of the day’s Cubs game. I read baseball, listen to, watch, or go to as many games as I can, watch baseball documentaries, study statistical inference so I can apply it to rudimentary baseball questions, and when I wake in the middle of the night and cannot get back to sleep, I play computer simulation games. I began a new project today. I am creating a scorecard for each of the Chicago Cubs World Series games from 1906 through 1945.

Last night I sat in the bar watching the Cubs game on one TV and the White Sox game on another TV next to it on the wall. I focused on the Cubs, but watched the Sox too. I saw White Sox player Jim Thome’s three run home run and his grand slam while sneaking peeks.

I don’t find anything mythic, heroic, or poetic about baseball. It merely transports me to a different world where grand careers and minutiae of particular games meld into a fascinating collage almost impossible to tease apart for inspection.

I suppose I’ve never grown up in more respects than I want to know. Baseball accentuates the juvenile in me for all to see, more than any other of my aimless pursuits. I suspect that when I die my juvenile pursuit of baseball will symbolize not only my life but my destiny.

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Published in: on July 18, 2009 at 2:20 pm  Leave a Comment  

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