the Walnut Diary

On the morning after Game 6 of the current baseball marathon I find myself curiously numb. Myriad thoughts dimly remembered tug at my attention as I reel from coffee to cereal to rows of pills. This brain fog seems to be an adaptation to endure the repeated cavalcade of commercials which have countered each brief instance of athletic brilliance on the field.

At its best, baseball is a dull game. It is only at moments when the excellent control slips a bit that things get interesting. Last night a ball got stuck under a mat, and the outcome of the entire series teetered on the brink of the umpire’s call. The game was tied, but the play was reversed, leaving the tying runners on second and third. Chaos moved in and on the next play a fly ball improbably turned into a double play when one of the game heroes discovered that he had taken a step too far off the bag. And that was the game. Run commercials.

Oh well, there is another game tomorrow night.