It's not for nothing, I guess, that it's called "The Old ballgame." Watching the opening day New York Mets' 9-7 loss to the Washington Nationals was not so much disheartening as it was at once a remembrance of things past and a prophesy of things to come.
Baseball, with its utter closeness to who we are is pure catharsis for us. From this rite of spring to the forever waving pennants of October we rededicate ourselves to the American spirits of hope and despair. Baseball evokes a feeling of cultural connection with our past in all its ugly beauty that mere words cannot convey. One must smell the sound of the crowd as it swells with apprehension as the first pitch of a new season races to the catcher's mitt.
You and your team are about to strike out for old frontiers to conquer. Or, if not, well, there's always next year.