... and the young man who used to look forward to the liberation brought on by summer, having grown old, now curses it. The season that used to offer stretches of days and weeks at a time of beautiful weather and no responsibility now stands as an sun-soaked, unyielding obstacle, keeping football season -- which, really, is SO CLOSE -- from beginning.
Some of us are able to take refuge in baseball. I'm having a fortunate year; my team since birth (indeed, the first team for which I ever actively cheered), the Detroit Tigers, are having something of a prolonged, anomalous burst of success. As I write this, my team sits atop the Majors, and I couldn't be more excited. Hopefully they'll make a run toward the end of the season and will secure a place in the postseason -- but that's neither here nor there. My enthusiasm has caused me to ramble. The point was, baseball is wonderful, and great baseball can be exhilirating. But it's no college football. Of that you can be certain. What's better than 13 weeks of your school butting heads with its rivals, passing those all-important bragging rights on to you when they're successful? At what other time of year do Sunday through Friday lurch by slowly?
I'm looking forward to September.