Hurry Spring

A wise but frustrated old Red Sox fan once said: baseball 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. 

Then comes the long hard winter. Stories are told, the heart begins to heal, and eventually to hope. For the briefest while, it's only a game.

Bart Giamatti needed to believe something lasts forever. I just need to believe Spring Training will come again. The countdown begins. Up again, old heart.

Hail to the Red Sox.