It’s hard to get back into silence, solitude and simplicity when everyone I see is wearing a Boston Red Sox baseball cap. How can I ignore Major League Baseball in October when I have vivid memories going back to the Brooklyn Dodgers? My grandmother was the most ardent of fans, yelling at Duke Snider through the TV: ‘Duke, you need glasses.’ She was primed in front of our black and white TV, the daily major league standing cut from the NY Times on the table in front of her, waiting to hear ‘play ball!’ She didn’t have a TV in her Brooklyn apartment so she was often with us in Connecticut for important ball games. I remember, however, talking with her on the telephone after the Dodgers finally won in 1955. She and my aunts and uncles were going out to celebrate on the streets of Brooklyn.
The Red Sox aren’t as dear to my heart as those Bums were, but if you live around Boston you gotta care. Last night’s game was miserable from start to finish. As the Sox were losing, I was reading Sonia Sotomayor’s marvelous autobiography, My Beloved World. Tonight’s game starts at 8:30, too late for me to stick with until the end. I’m slowly creating distance and getting back into silence, solitude and simplicity.
The Red Sox aren’t as dear to my heart as those Bums were, but if you live around Boston you gotta care. Last night’s game was miserable from start to finish. As the Sox were losing, I was reading Sonia Sotomayor’s marvelous autobiography, My Beloved World. Tonight’s game starts at 8:30, too late for me to stick with until the end. I’m slowly creating distance and getting back into silence, solitude and simplicity.