I've been studying for exams, and therefore not blogging too much. In two weeks I'll be done. In four, I'll be packing up and heading home to DC for the summer, working at the FCC during the day and going to Nats games at night.
I've been putting in about 12 hours of work a day getting ready for exams. The only break I allow myself each day is 3 hours to watch the baseball game.
Over the winter, right before my Property exam, Linda Cropp's amendment looked like it would derail the Nats for good. Now, a semester later, the Phillies are about to play their first regular season game at RFK.
I never realized how much I missed baseball until this season started. I grew up going to O's games at Memorial Stadium, chanting "Eddie, Eddie," for Eddie Murray, and watching Cal Ripken's whole career. I managed to catch his last game in Anaheim while I was living in LA.
But sometime in the early 90's I lost the game, or the game lost me. The strike had something to do with it, as did Peter Angelos running the O's into the ground and showing a palpable hate for DC while he did it. I found in rock and roll what I lost in baseball.
The Nats are bringing me back home. I no longer have to hang on every Redskins off-season move to feel some connection to DC. Instead, the rhythm of baseball will rule my summer.
Bernard Levy has an article in the newest Atlantic retracing the steps of de Toqueville 200 years after his birth. I'm aboaut half a page from the section entitled "On religion in general, and baseball in particular." What a feeling, after over a decade in the wilderness, to know, again, what he means before reading a word.