A single game does not explain baseball any more
than a single photograph explains a life.
Baseball is seven-game win streaks,
batting slumps, wearing the lucky socks for ten days straight.
Baseball is the last-minute trade, the call up of the double-A phenom.
The veteran hanging on for one more chance and the rookie making the most of his only chance.
Baseball is the season: the streaks, the slumps, two-and-a-half games behind, a double-header sweep.
The current and rip-tide of the summer, and wait till next year till it finally comes (and it will come).
Baseball is the season.
But enjoy the game for what it is:
the perfect pitch, the diving catch, called strike three painting the corners.
The line drive, the broken bat, touch-em-all and stealing home.
The game is closing your eyes on a warm summer evening,
hearing the muffled roar of the crowd,
the smell of the hot dog and the sip of beer.
The game is a snapshot.
Baseball is life.