Item Condition: Used; Very Good
No DJ
An Introductory Note
Well, look at this-we're all here. We made it back again. I hope you're half
as happy to be here as I am. Just saying that reminds me of a story, and since
telling stories is what I do for a living (and to keep myself sane), I'll pass this
one along.
Earlier this year- I'm writing this in late July of rg89-I was crashed out
in front of the TV, watching the Boston Red Sox play the Milwaukee
Brewers. Robin Yount of the Brewers stepped to the plate, and the Boston
commentators began marvelling at the fact that Yount was still in his early
thirties. 'Sometimes it seems that Robin helped Abner Doubleday lay down
the first set of foul lines,' Ned Martin said as Yount stepped into the box to
face Roger Clemens.
Yep,' Joe Castiglione agreed. "He camne to the Brewers right out of high
school, I think - he's been playing for them since 1974-"
I sat up so fast I nearly spilled a can of Pepsi-Cola all over myself. Wait a
minute! I was thinking. Wait just a goddam minute! I published my first book in
1974! That toasn't so long ago! What's this shit about helping Abner Doubleday
put dotun the first set of foul lines?
Then it occurred to me that the perception of how time passes -a subject
which comes up again and again in the stories which follow- is a highly
individual thing. It's true that the publication of Carie in the spring of 1974
(it was published, in fact, just two days before the bascball season began and
a teenager named Robin Yount played his first game for the Milwaukee
Brewers) doesn't seem like a long time ago to me subjectively- just a quick
glance back over the shoulder, in fact- but there are other ways to count the
years, and some of them suggest that fifteen years can be a long time, indeed.