A high-scoring matchup is a tug-of-war, with two squads pulling on it. Lurching back and forth, oscillating first this way but now that, it’s a long war of attrition.
But that’s not our only way of pulling a string taut. It can span a gap, and walking across is its own difficulty. Mostly, it’s a group task; start walking, go past halfway, but pass your baton to a guy who can hop down, who will pass it on in turn. As that’s occurring, hits and runs wind your string back and forth until it’s not so narrow. With room to walk, you can go slowly, calmly. Happily.
But without luck–or with much, much luck–you lack so many runs to support you. All you can do is inch across on your own skill. It’s not that far, actually. Not if you don’t stop along your way, as most do. But that stamina, to cross without pausing, is anything but common.
Or is it? This is a spring of focus and taut strings. Many can watch, now, huddling around and looking up. A wrong word could ruin things, many claim, but that might not truly hold. All of us crowd around, as if grasping tiny protruding strands. Wanting to hold onto a bit of history. A sharp tug, possibly, could disrupt things. But all holding on, balancing your string, and pitch by pitch it works out.