Limits of Baseball

I left Cardinal country and flew back to the Northwest.

I emptied my schedule, and turned to baseball.

For my grandfather had died.

I had gone home, but now I was back.

I thought ballgames would bring me comfort.

I might watch and relax, might think and remember.

I watched, all right.

But nothing seemed to fit.

And winning didn’t inspire me, and losing didn’t faze me.

And I wanted both, so I switched games again and again.

Perhaps a change would help.

I found the Astros and Rangers.

And then I saw the announcer as his name flashed across the screen.

His name was Grieve.

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