In these times of “doom and gloom” we look toward the future with great reservation, always looking for the next nightmare to become reality. Many Americans, myself included, think of simpler times when this time of year meant the return of spring — and baseball.
One constant through the years has been baseball: 162 games of trials and tribulations, wins and losses, falling at the last or ending as the last team standing. No matter how we fare, the game has always awaited us to embrace her, every spring through late fall.
As we stand on the cusp of a new season, not only as players and fans but as Americans, fighting to survive for that final game in the chilly night air of the fall or the dawn of a new hope without fear in this country, we should reflect on the words of one American who defined this hope for us and our game:
“I see great things in baseball. It’s our game — the American game.” — Walt Whitman