A Cruel Game, a Good Season, and a Good Career

Baseball is a cruel game. They call it “a game of inches,” but it’s the same thing, really. My Brewers, in a playoff race that no one expected them to be in, have lost two heartbreaking games in a row. A few inches one way instead of the other and they’d be a game and a half behind the Cubs in the Central and in possession of the second Wild Card spot. But they didn’t get those breaks and now I’ve experienced the misery of a entire season in a little more than 24 hours. The Crew have three more against the Cubs this weekend and, if they want a real chance at the postseason, they need to win all three. I will probably miss all three games. I missed almost every inning of the Brewers’ epic sweep at Wrigley a few weeks ago and, this weekend, I’ll be California at a wedding, way out in the desert away from cable and reliable phone service. And to be honest, I’m almost glad. Having a team in the race is tiring and emotionally taxing. The Brewers will probably win all three, leaving me on pins and needles for the rest of the season as the Brewers scrap all the way to the end. Like I said, baseball is a cruel game.

Cal Eldred knew it. This is a card I got in my recent trade with Brewers792. Eldred came up in the middle of the 1992 season and was a God for 14 starts, winning 11 and posting a 1.79 ERA over 100 innings. He looked every bit an ace, but the Brewers pitched him to death over the next two years – running him over 140 pitches about once a month – and his elbow blew up in 1995. He remained a serviceable pitcher when he came back, but never neared the brilliance of his rookie season.

But Cal probably wouldn’t complain. He had a better career than most, he even got to pitch in a World Series And I can’t complain. I live and die with the Brewers because they’re my team, because they’re my city. It’s a lopsided relationship, but I have come to know what to expect and I stick around anyway. If anyone told me at the beginning of this season that I would crushed by the outcome of two late-September games, I’d have been thrilled to know that things would still be exciting enough to end up crushed. So, I’mma head out west and forget about things for a few days… Monday morning, I’ll pick up a newspaper and find out how much handwringing I’ll be doing next week. I’m nervous, but mostly glad for it all.