The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Adventures in the National Pastime #4

Today's Adventure: Los Angeles Dodgers' ace left-hander Sandy Koufax soaks his elbow (1965)


Vanwall said...

Koufax, Drysdale, Marichal and Spahn - what an era. They don't make 'em like that anymore.

Fred said...

Today, so many players hang on well past their prime (I guess the seven and eight figure salaries have something to do with it). Koufax felt pain, considered that he couldn't keep pitching at his best and walked away from the game at the top of his game.