"We shall miss him on the infield and shall miss him at the bat
But he's true to his religion—and I honor him for that."
--Edgar A. Guest, "Speaking of Greenberg"
We have this day to obliterate our sins, cast them outside the walls of the holiest of holies, to pummel, stone, expiate them, and wish to be a contributor with a by-line in the Book of Life, or Baseball,
and hope that we are written there.
There is something in our gauzy glimpse at the eternal that trades on the traditional,
our tired endeavor to cleanse ourselves, in which
we petition privately, confess publicly, are charitable, and hope to wear white for as long as we can,
then rest, strictly and hungry, upon the mercy seat of the Ark of the Covenant--
this centuries-old bargain, which, when concluded, each party to the deal
hopes to meet a face unmelted by the horror of its own reflection.
In response to this poem, and in the spirit of the holy day (which begins at sundown), please use this thread to atone for your own sins publicly here on the blog or against the Phillies. Some of you may have to use some discretion to enable our imaginations to run wild, but nevertheless, we have a lot of self-washing to do, and not much time to do it.