I spent a large part of my Sunday watching this over and over, crying: http://m.mlb.com/video/v36599553/balnyy-jeter-gets-walkoff-hit-in-final-home-game. Not sure what that says about me.
The announcer at the beginning is the voice of the Yankees for 50 years who retired in 2007 and died in 2009 and Jeter insisted that they play his recorded introduction every time he came to bat. So it was the last time for that.
Tie game, bottom of the ninth, first pitch, walk off single.
It’s magic. There is such a thing. Pure, unadulterated magic. No VC talk, no startups no grant requests, no civic tech, no conferences, just a man and a stick and a ball.
And millions of people wanting it. And then getting it. Pure communion. Pure love, nothing in the way. And now I’m crying again.
So this is what I keep looking for: my own bottoms of my own ninths, scanning my spaces, looking for them.
All of this is worthwhile.