Monday, March 01, 2004
I took the number nine home from downtown today and sat across from a middle aged man in Red Sox hat. Within minutes we had struck up a conversation. We talked about sketchy Quebec Major Junior Hockey League trades, the Stanley Cup, the World Juniors, Blue Monday, and of course our mutual love of the Red Sox and hatred of the Yankees. I was so into the conversation that I went well beyond my stop. I went about five blocks past my stop and ended up beyond the hydrostone. I was actually quite a bit lost. It was worth it just to talk baseball for a few extra minutes.
The off-season in baseball is filled with so much potential, anything is possible, nothing is inevitable. I'm really good with daydreams, I'm really good with possibility, I'm not so great with reality sometimes. Baseball with its endless possibilities is a natural sport for me to be attracted to. Every at bat is a new possibility, a new chance, a clean slate. For someone who ponders situations daily, baseball is a natural fit. The off-season with its dearth of inevitability even more so.
This isn't finished, maybe that's fitting.
The off-season in baseball is filled with so much potential, anything is possible, nothing is inevitable. I'm really good with daydreams, I'm really good with possibility, I'm not so great with reality sometimes. Baseball with its endless possibilities is a natural sport for me to be attracted to. Every at bat is a new possibility, a new chance, a clean slate. For someone who ponders situations daily, baseball is a natural fit. The off-season with its dearth of inevitability even more so.
This isn't finished, maybe that's fitting.
# posted by Die Brucke @ 2:02 AM 
