The Magnavox monster is now off the floor and installed in the entertainment center where it belongs. Today is another baseball day, and Michael invited a friend, Ken, over to help him set up the TV and watch the game. I walked to the store and got fixings for a chicken chili. By the time I got back the TV was in place — a very nice picture, though Michael thinks it’s a bit fuzzy.

The two of them have been on the sofa since noon (it’s now 6:00 PM) and none of the games have gone well. Michael says his stomach is upset. Ken says he’s giving up sports and pouring all the excess energy into relationships. The chili is gone. The Toll House cookies I baked last night are gone. The Blue Angels have come and gone, Grace Cathedral is striking the hour, and the sun is low in the sky, the light ashy. “It’s just stupidity,” Michael is saying. “Piazza made adjustments, Burns made adjustments, but not Bonds.”

“The As are not strong defensively,” says Ken a few minutes later.

“Just a long drive, right up the middle for two” says Michael. “A slammer would be okay, wouldn’t it?”

“No, that would be terrible. Just hit a single.”

They’re both in mental agony.

These men say they love watching baseball.