Baseball Life - Looking for the Sign

I spend my life, 7 innings at a time, watching the complicated game of baseball. Because the breaks between action are frequent and often prolonged, my mind starts to wander. I ponder deep subjects such as what I can cook for dinner, the name of the parent I've sat next to for years but can't remember, and baseball's parallels to life.

For all of its strategy and rigorous adherence to routine, the game of baseball mirrors the condition of humanity. It is a struggle against failure. Coaches keep statistics to determine how well each player is holding up in the face of forces of defeat. The numbers generally sober any player too high on himself. Failure is usually in the lead.

But one advantage baseball has over our everyday existence is the nature of the approach. When I wake up start my day, it's total guesswork as to my next move. I plot my own course with little outside input and a heap of faith. Even when I look for signs, I get too preoccupied to notice them. But baseball players, as compared to me, are darn lucky. They know what to do next. They look for the sign and they receive it pretty clearly. I wish life was like that.

Of course, coaches and life are equally punitive when they give a sign and it's missed.