[clydepepper]

I remember the first game I ever saw, the first game I ever pitched, and the last game I ever played.



I remember when and where I first heard what follows, but, years later, I still do not know who the author is...but that does not seem to matter.

Never before and never since has my love and deep, deep appreciation for the game been so accurately and completely stated:


It is played everywhere…

In parks, in playgrounds, and prison yards…

In back alleys and farmers’ fields…

By small children and old men…

Raw amateurs and millionaire professionals.

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It is a leisurely game

That demands blinding speed.

The only game in which the defense has the ball.

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It follows the seasons…

Beginning each year with the fond expectancy of springtime…

And ending with the hard facts of autumn.

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It is a haunted game…

In which every player is measured against the ghosts of all who have gone before.

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Most of all…

It is about time and timelessness…

Speed and grace…

Failure and loss…

Imperishable hope

And

Coming home.

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Followed by what I have always assumed where the last two words of Our National Anthem....

PLAY BALL!