And there is no use in mourning its arrival. It is inevitable as the last actual Commissioner of Baseball has explained to us:
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, October 2, a Sunday of rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick streets, it stopped, and summer was gone.
2 comments:
I watched Boston pummel NY this afternoon. So Minnesota gets home field advantage, but we always always always lose to the Yanks anyway.
Notice ARod has a despicable average of 270. The man should be ashamed.
But the first frost is supposed to be tonite up here.
summers gone
It's funny, but being an old guy I still think of the Twins as the transplanted Washington Senators and when they play one another, the Damn Yankees story plays in my head.
Joe Hardy is due. Go Twins.
Post a Comment