LIFE IS BASEBALL

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Life is more like baseball

                                                           

than any other sport.

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This post, repeated from a year ago is dedicated to one of my softball league buddies, Jimmy Travers, whose great sense of fun and spirit left us this weekend for his next life.

Thanks for the laughs and the hustle. Hit ‘em where they ain’t, Jimmy!

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   With every inning a decade long, where only a few of us actually get into extra innings, life is more like baseball than any other sport! 

     We walk, strike out, we get some foul tips, and sometimes manage to get big hits in the clutch.  We make errors.  We tag others whenever we can, and avoid those who come barreling home. 

     We get cheered when we perform.  We get booed when we don’t.  There are times when we need to get a glove and get in the game, and other times when we need to step up to the plate.  All of us have to sacrifice from time to time, and a few of us steal when no one is looking. 

     Those who are exceptional travel inside the park and make round-trippers.  And have you ever balked?  When did you last set the table, or be in a clean up position?  We relax on deck, and work when we’re in the hole, and we work even harder to stay away from arbitration, appeals, getting thrown out, and avoiding the bullpen or —heaven forbid— being shut out! 

     We go through different coaches, and we fire managers, but no matter how much money we make, we still always do what the owner and general manager order us to do. 

     Usually in our later decades, we bring in short and long relievers, and of course the eventual closer.  But reality is that we only live life in the National League . . . because we never get to have a designated hitter! 

     If Shakespeare was right that “All the world’s a stage . . .” he had to be talking about our love affair with the diamond.  Diamonds are, after all, forever!

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 Hal@TheWriterWorks.com or comment below.

Thanks for visiting. Go for your goals, and God bless you!  

 

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  1. […] Bless You All Jimmy, Butch, Ernst and Paul, and especially missed in our lives and our Christmas household: our […]

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