On Saturday I went to the second to last Sox game of the season.

I love September baseball. Some years it’s taut, emotional, full of do-or-die. Other years, like this one, it’s the opposite. It’s baseball being played for the sake of the game. It’s undistracted and undiluted. It’s a continuous, fluid flow of balls and strikes and hits and runs and innings. The outcome matters only in the most limited scope.
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