For a sport that is so attached to the fact that it does not have a clock, baseball is notably, systematically attached to time. It’s impossible to escape. An element of time is built into some of the most basic measurements here; it’s in the way that players are evaluated; it’s in the language that the game uses to discuss roster construction. Even if the clock is not on display, it’s always, always ticking. The streak will end, the weather will turn, the center fielder will lose his speed. It’s hard to find timelessness here: There are precious few places in baseball where you can think about forever.
Miguel Cabrera's Swing Stands Up to Father Time
