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October 6, 2001
The list keeps piling up. I’m tackling all the little projects that I want to complete. Still, I find myself barely staying above water. It’s not serious trouble. The house won’t collapse. The car isn’t about to implode on the freeway. It’s just the annual cycle biting my butt.

Baseball season is over.

Commissioner Bart Giamatti wrote a poem about the cruelty of baseball. Beginning in the Spring, when all is new and hope eternal. And it goes away in the Fall, when we actually need it most. It’s been a good season: Ripken, Ichiro, Clemens, Gwynn, Henderson, Hampton, Bonds.