When you watch as much baseball as most of us do, it’s hard not to feel fatigued at times, like when a pitcher gets a dead-arm. Add blogging to the mix–and not just blogging during the season but every day of the year–and it’s hard not to just want to turn everything off and feel some sense of calm. All this information, all the access we have at our disposal, is addicting and exhausting. Not only that, but information is processed at light speed these days. Hell, blogs are practically old-fashioned now in the Twitter-Age.
What we sacrifice with technology is time to think and contemplate, to digest. I got to thinking about this last night watching Derek Jeter, who continues to struggle offensively. What’s wrong? Is he hiding an injury, is this the start of the finish? Maybe he’s just playing the way most 36-year-old shortstops do. Sure, he made a nice play in the field, and yup, there he was giving Marcus Thames a great straight-face after Thames hit another long home run. Same ol’ Jeter, as if nothing was wrong.
I don’t pretend to know if this is just a slump for Jeter, an off-year, or what. What I think is compelling is that he’s having his worst season as a major leaguer in a walk year. Things have always come up roses for Jeter. Not that they’ve come easily, but he’s never really been up against it. His legacy is secure, he’s going to join the 3,000 hit club soon. How much more baseball does he have left? And at what level?
Can a play age gracefully these days? I wonder.