On June 27th, I found myself sitting inside, suffering on a hot summer day. Not just any hot summer day, but the second day of a heat wave that ended up being the second-hottest temperature recorded in Seattle, ever. I’d escaped to the confines of an uncomfortably bourgeois cafe, with the goal being to indulge in a cold brew or two, but mostly to immerse myself in an environment that had air conditioning and (unlike my house!) actually had insulation in the walls.
While I was there, I wrote about two relievers that were having career seasons at the ages of 30 and 31.