It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. — A. Bartlett Giamatti, 7th Commissioner of Major League Baseball
The last gasps of the minor league season: yesterday the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Yankees’ only trip to Durham this year, featured above; a Jake Peavy rehab start for the White Sox AAA team tomorrow; one last trip to Winston to see Shelton at the end of August, maybe one more Bulls/Tides game in September, and fingers crossed that the Marlins will send Andrew Miller to Greensboro for a rehab start before the ‘Hoppers close out the season.
The MLB signing deadline is tonight at midnight. Two years ago I was in the shower when Matt Wieters signed with the Orioles at 11:56 pm on deadline day, and the wet naked dance I did nearly caused me to fall over and concuss myself. There’s some boys I’m waiting on this year, too — six and a half hours — only instead of signing, this year I just want them to come back to me for one last season. Selfish as hell? Yes. But the Carolina baseball team is one of the few things in the world I always, always let myself be selfish about. I want my first baseman and my Friday starter back; the world at large can’t have them yet, I’m not ready to let them go. I’ve let so many go with best of luck and love and blessings the last couple of years, and it tears at my heart with pride and with sadness to see them in other uniforms. I just want these two for one more spring.
brand new kind of photography 