With the final out of the World Series, stadiums are shuttered, players disperse, crowds go home. The end of the season feels a bit like death; but, like life itself, there is hope for spring when life will begin anew. Until then, a brief eulogy in honor of the end of another season...   

Baseball testifies to immortality.

One, there is no clock in baseball. A game of nine can be played in an hour-and-a-half, or--if the Yankees and the Red Sox are sharing the field--it might take five hours or longer. Baseball is timeless. � Two, there are no ties in baseball. In theory, a baseball game may never end. � Three, the left and right field foul lines strike out, so to speak, from home plate past third and first bases, respectfully, through the outfield, where they climb the foul poles and ascend into the endless heavens. � Four, contrary to the precise engineering of the infield, there are no prescribed boundaries to the outfield. The game could, conceivably, be played on a field without limits. � And, five, even the ball testifies to immortality. It's formed by stitching together two pieces of leather, both punched in the shape of infinity's mark.

And yet, unique to baseball among all major team sports, the player who departs the game, cannot return. And so. . .

Baseball testifies to mortality.

So play. And play well. In this very moment.