Baseball is by far the most Catholic of the sports on which we lavish such attention and passion. Because it’s played without a clock, baseball is like the liturgy: a foretaste of the time-beyond-time, which is God’s time, which is eternity. Baseball is also spatially eschatological or infinite: . . . . Continue Reading »
Unfortunately, the scene is now familiar to us. The runner on first breaks for second as the pitcher delivers the ball to home. The catcher jumps to his feet, throws a rocket to the second baseman as the runner slides into the base. The play is close, as are so many plays in this game of inches, but . . . . Continue Reading »
As the World Series comes to an end, and with it another post-season, there was one noticeable absence: Yankee shortstop, Derek Jeter. During the last two decades, Jeter, the Yankee captain, has been a constant, larger-than-life presence in the playoffs and World Series, thrilling fans everywhere. But not this year. The usually proficient New York Yankees failed to even qualify for the playoffs, let alone the World Series, making the 2014 season-Jeter’s last-especially poignant.
When Jeter played in his final games in September, Gatorade Continue Reading »
When taking stock of how far we haven’t come, I find myself reliving the early morning hours of July 27, 2011. Late-night comics have relinquished the airwaves to diet pill peddlers, city buses have ceased running here in Atlanta, and even Manuel’s Tavern is turning out the last of its regulars. South of downtown the Braves and Pirates play on, sweating through the nineteenth inning on a field approaching dewpoint. A journeyman Braves reliever, batting for lack of other options, hits a routine grounder to third. Breaking on contact, a baserunner pushing fortyalso playing for lack of other optionssprints toward the plate, a kamikaze attempt at the winning run. Continue Reading »