This is for you, you who I do not expect to ever meet, nor whom I’m sure exist. I’m just guessing you’re out there, somewhere. Most likely Detroit. Thinking of how I’d be, in your shoes–following the Tigers, not wondering if the Cubs would get in their competition–it seems like you should exist. Just guessing.
But it’s foolish to guess, this month. With tiny odds coming through time beyond time, how should I know you spoke like I figure you did? Considering Tigers supporters, it’s sensible to guess some followed. Some spoke. Some viewed the end, viewed history turn into something else. Did you shoulder the guilt of destroying it?
It’s sensible to guess you’re out there, but sense is untrustworthy now.
Even now, my feeling on reviewing umpiring decisions isn’t strong. I guess I don’t truly trust televised clips to bring utter precision. It’s one thing to sit in my home, seeing my TV while listening to its voices go “Oh, he seems to be out.” But to expect this technology to provide complete rulings? Someone must still judge the film, which must be from useful perspectives. Think of outfielders running to corners of fields; could someone swivel the lens in time? Someone must rule. How to choose who?
None of us–supporters, filmers, TV voices, umpires, robots–touch perfection.
Will this be written off with “not quite”s? Grow into something unique, not like other impressive jobs but distinctively well-known? Or is it just the footnote to the odd story of this weird month?
No, it isn’t. Linguistic prohibition is the norm in this blog, so I’ll tell you right now; I will not let myself refer to this by the title of “the footnote”. For it might not be unique. Oh, no other competition is likely to go quite like this soon. But onetime flukes grow ever more common, so nothing’s sure. This might not be the end of this odd sequence of events. Just when you think it’s finished, it could surprise us once more.
You spoke out. The umpire spoke…something besides “out”. Coincidence? Most likely, though it’s difficult for those like us to believe.
So I’ll keep quiet for now, not deeming this the end of spring or the beginning of summer. There’s more pitching to be done.
Oh, P. S.: the text on the right column of the blog is oddly true this spring.