DEAR EDITOR:
Even as my beloved A’s’ conspicuous meltdown starts to settle
from shock to depression to acceptance, my reflection is still
peppered with the heartache that comes with being so close to
victory without quite reaching it.
DEAR EDITOR:
Even as my beloved A’s’ conspicuous meltdown starts to settle from shock to depression to acceptance, my reflection is still peppered with the heartache that comes with being so close to victory without quite reaching it. While Monday night’s Game 5 defeat in Oakland was exasperating, this past weekend in Boston was even more heart wrenching.
Much has been written about the multitude of opportunities the A’s squandered. And still last night I was awakened considering one more possibility: what if Nomar had not stopped at third in Game 4’s eighth inning, running straight into Guillen’s perfect throw? Inning over; no Ortiz.
It all brings me back to Ken Burns’ 1994 documentary “Baseball” in which he quotes the late Commissioner Bart Giamatti saying that the game breaks your heart; that it’s designed to. Realistically, statistically, at the start of spring you know your team has a one-in-30 chance to of winning it all. Yet you put aside that fact and replace it with hope and even faith, immersing yourself in the possibility that your team really could do it. Add to that feeling that the A’s really were good enough this year, together with the ephemeral qualities that surround the game, knowing that chances are fleeting, given players‚ advancing ages, free agency, payroll restrictions, etc. Then each squandered opportunity – each missed plate touched, each season ended unfulfilled – intensifies the burn in your heart. And I’m not even on the field playing!
Bill Weihman, Gilroy
Submitted Wednesday, Oct. 8 to ed****@****ic.com
