I’m more of a Red-Sox-on-the-radio kinda guy. But will be strange to tune into NESN and not see and hear Don. And still, no one has any idea what the hell this was all about. In any case, it stinks. It stinks because Don is gone and because baseball is over (for me) till next year.
It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops. – A. Bartlett Giamati