Baseball. Zen. A link to an essay, then discussion.

I found this via Baseball Musings. It seems strangely important to me now in my life, despite its bigging-up of Buster Olney. But maybe it's just me.

So here are my questions:

How mystical are you about baseball? Is it a religion, a quest, a metaphor for you? Or is it just a sport, and a troubled flawed oft-boring one? Or is there A THIRD PATH?

Baseball used to be my life; I played ball for 10 years, I collected cards up until junior year of high school and knew every player's stats. When the Yanks won the WS in 96 (first time since I started following baseball) I kind of carried that with me all winter. When Mo blew it in 97, I was crushed. I can't believe that was 7.5 years ago.

I'm more detached from it now mostly because I don't have as much time, but I definetely do have a giddy feeling inside when spring training starts, because it always goes along with the winter thaw, longer days and warming temperatures in New Jersey.

Is that your blog, sourpuss?

No, my blog is dead. And I would have made hoo-ha about actual Zen sutras and all that shit. But yeah, there's something to this time of year.

It occurs to me that there is another very Zen thing here: Baseball is the sport most tied to the seasons of the year, most vulnerable to weather = haiku/kigo = no wonder the Japanese love it so.

You might be interested in this book, Begs:

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0394741056/ref%3Dase%5Fruz/102-6256973-0719363

hubba hubba