it's over, officially, as far as i'm concerned.... summer 2007, that is. the yankees lost last night in the play-offs, for reasons best left debated by better baseball minds than mine. for me, the yankee defeat only signals the end of the season. Time to oil the gloves, to lay the bats and balls to rest. Time to let the summer sleep.
of all the games, and all the sports, only baseball holds any interest for me. perhaps its the slow deliberateness of play, or maybe just the way you can fall asleep in the second inning, wake up to catch the end of the game in the ninth, and see all the highlights on the post-game show. there's not many things you can do and sleep at the same time.
for me, there's magic in baseball - and its not in the statistics and the numbers that men seem to store so frantically in their heads, as if they all Mean Something. it's in the way the game is played, in the nine men on each team who play nine innings of three outs each. there's three bases and one home plate. but more than anything else, i think, something clings to baseball of the broad green fields on which it spawned, of the dusty summer games played in long gold evening light. but now, the shadows are long over homeplate, leaves litter the infield, the stands are cold and dark. Time to lay the bats and balls to rest. Time to let the summer sleep.