Freddie Freeman Lost His Poor Meatball

I got a little anxious last night. It was nothing major. I was sad that the Orioles were being eliminated from the playoffs. I was also sad about the way it was going down, which called to mind a cartoon character being tossed face-first through a saloon door while the bartender shouts, “And stay out!” I was a little drained from making conversation at a long group dinner. And I knew this article could really use another draft, which meant getting up early before a doctor’s appointment that I was already a little nervous about. All minor things, but the result was that when I answered a question from my wife, something in my voice made her stop and ask if I was okay.
Everyone deserves to feel seen. I’ve spent a lot of my life feeling lonely, and I am well aware that it’s privilege to have someone who cares enough about you to know whether you’re telling the truth when you say, “I’m fine.” But also, sometimes you really are close enough to being fine that you’d rather have your slightly sour mood slip by unnoticed. Humans are very picky creatures.
I imagine baseball players must feel that way a lot of the time. It’s nice to be recognized for your accomplishments, but it’s got to feel weird that anybody on earth can look up your batting average, and that a whole lot of your neighbors already know it without needing to look it up. Think about how often you see a player who has no idea that they’ve achieved some amazing statistical accomplishment until an interviewer asks them about it. On Saturday, Carlos Correa was too busy actually playing in the playoffs to know that he’d passed David Ortiz and Derek Jeter on the all-time playoff RBI list. Read the rest of this entry »