Is there anything in baseball—in sport, for that matter—at the moment that is more aethetically pleasing than the pitching motion of Mariano Rivera? Bring hands together. Look down. Contract body. Extend into an X [above]. Release. Rest at attention. It’s an amazing physical poetry, something worthy of Balanchine or Martha Graham for its grace, discipline, balance, and sheer beauty. And that’s before the ball even hits the target. And it almost always hits the target. With crazy precision. The numbers he has posted thus far are the index of this physical perfection: 23 ip, 11 h, 1 r, 1 bb, 21 k, .39 era, .52 whip. This hasn’t been a great year for Yankee fans, but watching Rivera has been a privilege.
[Ed Note: We've closed the comments at #42. It just seemed right.]