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The Fourth Inning of My Life

Hallelujah, the month of June and my salvation is nigh (I’d like to believe) or at least my summer off. So I’m sitting here at Schultzy’s on the Ave enjoying an Andouille and a beer, reading The Stranger and watching the M’s stay even with Detroit, writing this with a pen borrowed from a low-key but lovely waitress. It’s the fourth inning, 2-2, and it feels like the fourth inning of my life as well. All tied up, with not too much drama so far, a few hits, a couple of runs, some bad pitches, some good ones, a double-play, two stolen bases, one homer that just cleared the wall in center field, a couple of errors, two men on base, Ichiro up to bat (two outs, of course), the count at 0-2. Now 1-2 (way outside.) Damn! Fastball, check swing, strike three. End of inning. Commercial break. Top of the fifth. My life. But: is it me vs. the world? me vs. the Devil? me vs. God? me vs. myself?

Comments

  1. Quin Finnegan says

    Wait, you’re still in Seattle?! For real?

    And I’d like to think that last series of questions are provoked by Bird’s Nest. Or that it served as a reminder of sorts, at least.

    Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas.

  2. Rufus McCain says

    No, we’re back in Spokane. I transcribed this from my longhand journal and pre-dated it. Note the date and time. Connect the dots for me re. Bird’s Nest. I wasn’t conscious of a connection.

  3. Anonymous says

    How about the bottom of the 9th, two strikes after fouling off about a dozen or so pitches and stil expecting another home run? Keep your knees loose, your eye on the ball and swing for the fences– or at least hope for a hard line drive right between the pitcher’s legs.
    Dad– the not-so-ancient one

  4. Anonymous says

    You’ve got at least another 5 innings in you plus some overtime maybe. Your best work is often done in the later innings—when you’ve figured out the other team’s strategies—-

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