After reading about the Washington National’s stirring comeback to win a wild card berth in the National League play-offs, I had a thought. It probably won’t last, but it’s how I’m feeling today. And that is that, in my next life, I’d like to be a sports writer. Of course, that would require me to play and understand sports. But this will be my next life, so I may be stronger and more coordinated.

I’d like to be a sportswriter because it’s the one place in the newspaper where you can let fly (pardon the pun) with a description or two. Lyricism is not frowned on, nor is sentimentality.  You can write long and you can even write purple and it will not necessarily be edited out.

Furthermore, there is the theory (which seems truer to me through the years), that sport mirrors life  to an uncanny degree, and that in writing about it one is actually chronicling human nature with all its warts and halos. An infinitely rich and varied topic, to be sure.

But since it is not yet my other life (I’m thankful to say), I will have to content myself with reading about sports — rather than writing about them.

(Photo: Wikipedia)