A man may imagine things that are false, but he can only understand things that are true, for if the things be false, the apprehension of them is not understanding.
-Issac Newton
“Why do I love baseball?”
That question has been like a puzzle on the table in the front room of my mind for the last few years. One where the pieces on the edges all fit, but there’s enough missing in the middle that the picture remains nebulous.
That wasn’t always the case. As a youth, the answer skewed more generic and innocent.