I've been reading David Halberstam's Summer of '49, about the pennant race between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox. A friend at work loaned it to me unasked. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was a Detroit Tigers fan and couldn't care less about the Yankees or the Red Sox, two Eastern coast teams who get much more attention than they deserve. However, I have found the book a fascinating read, which covers not only the personalities of the players and managers, and the times in which they played, but also the lives of many of the childhood fans who grew up to be famous, important people. Bart Giammatti was one of those fans. I've reached the Epilogue, now, where Halberstam is giving a synopsis of many of the major characters in his story. About Giammatti he writes:
"Bart Giammatti did not grow up to play second base for the Boston Red Sox. He became a professor at Yale, and then president of Yale, and then, in time, exhausted by a bitter strike at Yale and anxious to try greener fields, president of the National League. He never lost his love for the Boston Red Sox. It was as a Red Sox fan, he later realized, that he had first learned that man is fallen, and that life is filled with disappointment. The path to comprehending Calvinism in modern America, he decided, begins at Fenway Park."
I always suspected the Red Sox served some divine purpose or other. Who knew it was so profound?
But what will be more profound is when the Cubs finally win the World Series. That will mean the Resurrection from the Dead!
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