Baseball Is Truly a Metaphor for Life (especially some nights).

On Thursday night, I had roller-coaster pleasure of attending the nine to eight Cubs/Nats playoff finale. In the course of nine innings, that seemed like an eternity, just about every variety of play and every emotion in life was paraded before our very hearts, eyes, and minds. In one half inning on one play alone, there was a strike out, along with a passed ball, along with alleged batter interference, along with a throwing error, along with runners circling the bases, and an empty feeling that a whole season was being washed down a drain. Later in that half inning there was catcher’s interference call and a hit batsman. This was a half inning with a combination of events that likely never happened before in baseball’s long history. The pitcher during that catastrophic inning was one of the best in baseball, Max Scherzer, and the catcher, one of the best fielding catchers, Matt Wieter. 


There were many umpires’ calls that were questioned, starting in the first inning, and there some calls overturned, including one late in the game when a Nats runner’s foot came off the base for a split second, while he was being tagged, and one of four cameras caught it all. It ended a Nats comeback that could have turned the game and the year around. 


There were the routine singles, and doubles, and homeruns, walks--the usual ways people get on base, but then there seemed like every other conceivable less ordinary play in the four and three-quarter hour, nine inning marathon game. There were 14 pitchers used, along with many pinch hitters and substitutes. There was every type of successes and every type of failure--it was a true parade of the good, the bad, the ugly in life in one long game. It was draining to a great degree whether you were a Cub or Nat fan, but one was celebrating and one was not at end of this stress ridden affair. 


After the dramatic game, that ended the season of one team, I walked the mile and a half back to my car at 1:00 a.m. and at 1:30 a.m., when I reached my car, I realized that my car battery was dead. It seemed like a dream and yet the perfect ending to a night of drained emotions. I had experienced the emotions of a season in one game, and it seemed like every human emotion was felt, and then to top it off all of the energy had drained out of my car. 


But the night could not end that way. As fortune would have it, just then a friend/co-worker who is a Cubs fan walked by,and asked if something was wrong (other than the outcome of the game). It turned out that he had jumper cables in his car, and my night was to take another turn, while he recharged my battery so I could get home. Rooting enemies during the game, and now the brotherhood of Cub mankind came to my rescue--and once again "the world will live as one." 


On Friday, still drained from the prior night’s experience, I could not watch that night’s Astros-Yanks playoff game on Friday. But on Saturday morning, I had my battery replaced and my energy level rose immediately. I quickly watched the game that I had missed on Friday, and saw the dramatic Saturday Astros/Yankee battle with my love for baseball restored and fully charged. The rejuvenation and resilience that comes with life and baseball was back in its proper place—I was ready to move forward again.