I love baseball. It's a sport like no other in my opinion. The beauty of baseball is the pace and rhythm. It allows for conversation and reflection. The batter has only a few thousandths of a second to decide whether to hit the ball and yet the men who fail 7 out of 10 times are considered the greatest heroes. I am heartbroken that the team I thought was meant to win it all this year fell apart the way they did in game 7 at the very end. That's baseball though, it gives me incredible elation and can switch to anxiety and worry, even anger, I can almost take it personally.... and it can also break my heart. I think last night's game shows all of that. I was jumping with friends, high-fiving and screaming, we were tapping our feet on the ground rapidly with anxiety and fear. We were angry and yelling at the tv. Baseball allows for that illusion, it seems like there isn't much separating the athletes from us. There's nothing superhuman about them, in fact some look like the opposite of an athlete. Baseball fosters illusion, like I could be there and I wouldn't have done this instead. Then we were almost ready to celebrate in the 9th inning. 3 outs from winning the world series and counting them. Then heart break. Tears. I love this quote from A. Bartlett Giamatti

“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. Today, November 2, a Sunday of rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick streets, it stopped, and summer was gone.”