World War II ended in 1945, yet there were handfuls of particularly stubborn Japanese soldiers in far-flung outposts who hadn’t gotten word or refused to believe what they were told about their nation’s surrender. One, Hiroo Onoda, was found to still be fighting a war that was no longer in progress as late as 1974.
My pal Will likes to strip away the sepia Valhalla folderol around baseball and replace it with a simple rule: “When my team wins, I am happy, and when they lose, I am sad.”
Pretty much. But there are degrees of happy and sad. There’s the sad of losing a ho-hum game in August when you’re a dozen games […]
This, too, was the game we’d been waiting for, the game we’d been subconsciously groping for, the game embedded in our DNA. This was the game that signaled perhaps prosperity is neither illusory nor fleeting. This was the game that allowed us to quit looking over our shoulders to see if the worst was gaining […]
Final Score: Braves 13 Mets 5.
Time of Game: 3 minutes and 41 hours. Experientially, that’s not a typo.
Attendance: Well, I sat my ass on the couch and watched the whole thing, though my mind wandered off into other Met Septembers whenever it was given the proper reminiscent cue.
Monday’s Belabored Day matinee was played on the […]
Call it hindsight of the sharpest degree, but I swear I had a feeling about today’s game when it was 7-0, and that feeling wasn’t all about the different vessels I considered packing Mike Pelfrey into and what destinations I would have liked him shipped. Well, that, too, but after Pequeño Pelf finished the third […]
The most obvious fun of Friday night’s comeback win in Houston emanated from Mets bats exploding in accordance with their time-release settings. For more than six innings, nothing. Then the fuses went off and so did Bay (BOOM!), Martinez (SUPER BOOM!) and Wright (GO-AHEAD BOOM!). Pridie’s ringing insurance double made a nice noise, too (r-r-ring!).
It’s an age-old fan question: Your team’s down seven runs, and not destined to win. Given this, how would you prefer them to exit stage final? Biting and scratching and clawing, even if all’s in vain? Or quickly and quietly, so as not to waste valuable pluck and luck? (Pluck and luck don’t actually work […]
Anthony Crater, No. 10, presumably in tribute to Rusty Staub.
My alma mater won’t see the Big Dance. It will be lucky to see a square dance. I’m guessing that by this time tomorrow, all they’ll be seeing is the plane home to Tampa. But by gum, after trailing Villanova by 16 at […]
Even fans of juggernauts endure a fair number of four-run deficits in the eighth, as games that haven’t felt particularly close trudge to a merciful conclusion. Being a baseball fan means putting up with God knows how many such affairs — lousy, irritating games that you stick with because bad baseball is ever so slightly […]