Playing catcher for both teams on a pickup game on Sunday at my friend’s 40th birthday party, a long-time baseball-buddy threw hard from short to get the force at home. He short-hopped the throw, and it kicked higher than I tracked. Result? Broken schnoz, split lip, and game over because it was time for cake anyway.
Why do I bring this up? It’s not for the fact I want your pity and condolence for my suffering. I’m probably better-looking for the impact, and I am now quite fine and recovered. The point is that my favorite game is difficult. The flash point of action from the release of the pitch to the resolution of said action is a slight window. Our pile of happy amateurs, as so many thousands of people do every day, lit many matches and marveled at the moments of their brilliant bearing, and there was joy. For all the clamor I consistently raise of professional baseball players botching a situation, one thing I know:
Baseball Is The Greatest Game Ever Invented.
“With those who don’t give a damn about baseball, I can only sympathize. I do not resent them. I am even willing to concede that many of them are physically clean, good to their mothers and in favor of world peace. But while the game is on, I can’t think of anything to say to them.” — Art Hill
“Of course I was out. They had me by a foot. You just booted the play, so come on, let’s play ball.” — Ty Cobb
“People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.” — Rogers Horsnby
“It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in 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.” — A. Bartlett Giamatti
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