"...and the battle's lost and won." (Macbeth)

.....The World Series which has concluded recently and won by the indomitable New York Yankees is a baseball event of breathtaking and terrifying beauty. The stadia, overrun with feverish spectators flapping white towels in unparalleled unison while howling like Banshees heralding the death of their objects of scorn, are images of fierce derision. A viewer of this occult phenomenon experiences it in mystifying, fearful wonder; and exulting over the victory of his team, wanders home after a joyous catharsis, unable to wait for the next game, addicted beyond redemption. If his team loses, he suffers then from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

.....The game overlooks a verdant green arena where baseball heroes are joining the battle, not unlike Greeks and Persians in the Battle of Thermopylae except in this juncture of history they are the Phillies and the Yankees--but no less courageous. The talents of Babe Ruth banging out a home run, Joe DiMaggio hitting in his 54th game, Jackie Robinson stealing home, Willie Mays running down a fly ball, Derek Jeter vacuuming ground balls are moving images of art no less than what may be enjoyed in dusty museums. Should the game come down to the ninth inning, tying and winning runs for the home team on second and third, two outs and two strikes on the batter, a fire ignites in the belly of a fan who identifies with the home team, and a conflagration erupts as the ball to win the game flies like a lark arising from the sullen earth singing hymns at heaven's gate----only it's foul. And now, another interminable wait for the next pitch. There is no game so thrilling and suspenseful as World Series baseball--unless, of course, it is stickball.