A tiny bit of Emily Dickinson today: Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
I'm thinking of success because I saw a very wonderful documentary about Luis Tiant -- father and son -- great, great pitchers. Yesterday was the opening day for the Boston Red Sox. I am not a sports fan although there was a spell when I watched a lot of NY Yankees games on TV -- keeping a male fan company of course. I had never heard of the Cuban father and son but I fell in love with both of them in this documentary. The father played in the Negro Leagues in the US in the '40s and '50s and experienced the worst of Jim Crow conditions which were far worse in the US than anything he had ever seen in Cuba.
The son fled the Cuban revolution with his father's blessing and moved quickly from minor leagues to big leagues, at his apex of success he was the most beloved pitcher for the Boston Red Sox. But sports success is a fickle thing, as he aged he was in effect cast aside. But made a come back from sheer grit and talent. And wonderfully, on a trip to Cuba, George McGovern met with Castro and won permission for father and mother to leave Cuba and join their son in Boston. They were elderly by then but had time to see Luis Junior play magnificently. At one season opening the father threw the first ball -- his form and pitch were magnificent -- like seeing an aging ballerina get up on her toes and do a perfect pirouette and arabesque. They were warm, sweet, sincere and beautiful people.
