Think about the liquid swing. Think about the snap of the bat. Think about the journey of the ball through the night sky as it heads toward the monuments.
At a time such as this, it is best you consider Alex Rodriguez's power.
Either that, or you might ponder Bud Selig's lack of it.
Go ahead. Rejoice. The Yankees have called up Rodriguez from the minor leagues (translation: the teams that aren't the Yankees). Another great player has joined a great franchise, which is simply terrific news if you're the kind of person who throws a party every time Bill Gates gets a tax refund.
Think about a batting order full of All-Stars. Think about trying to get a ground ball through the left side of the infield. Think about digging out the history books for your comparisons.
At a time such as this, it is a good thing to admire George Steinbrenner's ability to close the deal.
Otherwise, you may have to consider Selig's inability to do the same.
Those are the two permissible viewpoints of what happened Monday, when Selig gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up to the Yankees' acquisition of Rodriguez. You can bask in the success of a franchise that wants to take over the world, or you can shake your head at the failure of a commissioner's office to stop it.
Fifteen minutes ago, wasn't the idea of competitive balance all the rage? Isn't this the exact day Selig whined about back when he was trying to rally the troops for a shutdown? Wasn't this the exact deal he said was so important to avoid?
Gee, Commissioner Bud. Just asking here, but whatever happened to that concept?
Here in baseball's outposts, in the forgotten country, it has been clear baseball didn't do enough to spread the wealth of the game during its last bargaining two-step. Luxury tax? Ha. Steinbrenner acts as if that's a sales tax.
This isn't a sport, for goodness' sake. This is a shopping spree. This is Steinbrenner, rolling his cart through the open-air market, filling it with whatever stars he considers worth plucking.
Tomorrow, perhaps, Steinbrenner will sign Greg Maddux, just because he can. Maybe he'll trade for Randy Johnson. Maybe he'll land Jose Vidro to play second base. Maybe he'll do all three.
This isn't baseball. This is a deer hunt. One side has all the weapons, and everyone else is playing the role of Bambi's mom.
Look, if you're a Yankee fan, if you believe whatever is good for the Bronx Bombers is good for baseball, well, this was your kind of weekend. You made Tom Hicks look like a hick. You made the Red Sox feel failure all over again. You made what some are calling the team's most important trade since Babe Ruth arrived.
On the other hand, if you're a baseball fan, this was the latest evidence of a sport out of balance. Baseball continues to have a gravitational pull toward New York. If you're a big enough star, sooner or later, you're going to play in the Big Apple.
There is a scene in Camelot where King Arthur is amazed to discover the secret to his knights winning most of the battles is, surprise, because they have most of the weapons. It's the same thing with the Yankees. Every spring they have all of the advantages, and every fall all you read are sonnets dedicated to their courage and heart. (Getting to be a Yankee these days is the closest thing baseball has to being knighted, it seems.)
Selig was going to change all that, remember? He was going to draw a line in the dirt. He was going to give hope to the small-market teams. If he had pulled that off, he could have been remembered as one of baseball's great commissioners. Instead, he will be forgotten as soon as ... well, what time is it?
On the other hand, isn't that Selig's legacy? There are certain topics - realignment, contraction, competitive balance - that seem to count for about a half-hour, and then they're forgotten. No one mentions them again. Least of all Selig.
Oh, it could be worse. Baseball could have made Hicks the commissioner. He's the guy who spent $140-million for three last-place finishes with Rodriguez. And, considering he gave Rodriguez and $67-million to the Yankees, he may have overpaid even more for Alfonso Soriano. Oh, well, at least the Rangers have someone who isn't afraid to swing at those heel-high fastballs. As someone who was born at the end of a dirt road, I'll say this. Hicks is giving us hicks a bad name.
How good is this deal for the Yankees? It's so good that, around the league, people are already hoping the different personalities blow up the clubhouse.
Already, you have heard of the coolness of Derek Jeter toward Rodriguez. Already, you have heard people wonder how the pressure of the big city - and the distance of the leftfield wall - will affect Rodriguez. Already, you can hear people wonder about Steinbrenner's emotions and whether Jeter might show up one day and read a lineup to find out he's playing second base.
Such self-destructions, of course, may be the rest of the game's only hope. That, and a reconstructed pitching staff. Of course, Steinbrenner can always go shopping again.
Think of the tradition of great Yankee hitters. Think of the men and the moments. Think of dents in the outfield fence.
At a time such as this, perhaps it is better to imagine the return of Murderer's Row.
Otherwise, you might wonder whether weak leadership is going to be the death of this sport.
