Is there a man more loaded with hope than PK today?
I am up and I am on. Thanks to a chi-awakening conversation with ann7inflorida last night I am weary but invigorated, temporarily blind to contrary insight and doubting and any loutish nature. Pile on a Red Sox lead and I am one happy fumin’ human.
Have you ever heard a crowd roar at Fenway? Yankee Stadium has its roar, but in the volume one can hear the sqeak of the bandwagon wheels. At Shea, one often hears sarcasm. In Philly, the boos are louder. In Baltimore, it was all about Cal. In Boston, it’s 34,000 humans yearning, loving, hoping…with not quite the confidence to believe. Yet the volume to adore.
My perfect pitch.
It is the hope for love, the grief of loss and the wild abandon of full-fledged passion. It is the collective voice of want ever on the verge. It is hope against hope, with hope being the anti-protagonist. It is the sound of distorted reality. It is the brightest of color in the darkest of dreams. It is the very beware to dare.
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