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 ... a Sunday of rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick
streets, it stopped, and summer was gone.
...
Of course, there are those who learn after the first few times. They grow
out of sports. And there are others who were born with the wisdom to know that
nothing lasts. These are the truly tough among us, the ones who can live without
illusion. I am not that grown up or up-to-date. I am a simpler creature, tied to
more primitive patterns and cycles. I need to think something lasts forever, and
it might as well be that state of being that is a game; it might as well be
that, in a green field, in the sun.
A.Bartlett Giamatti
"Watch this, Lis. You can actually pinpoint the exact moment when his heart rips in half. Aaaaaannnnndddd....there!"
Jay
"i dont have to love you now if i dont wish to//i wont see you anyhow if thats an issue//cause i am a gentleman//think of me as just a fan//who remembers every dress you ever wore//a bad comedian who your new boyfriends better than//but i dont really love you anymore//There'll be someday when your eyes do not enthrall me//I'll be numb but realize you'll never call me."
1 comment:
That's my favourite piece of baseball writing. Well, maybe joint first with: "Since baseball time is measured only in outs, all you have to do is succeed utterly; keep hitting, keep the rally alive, and you have defeated time. You remain forever young." Which does have the problem that it creates in me the illusion that every deficit is reversable.
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