Homer

Using baseball as a metaphor for coupling (and environs) might be an infield single too far, but let’s see how it goes.

Baseball’s a game of defense. The pitcher and his fielders have an almost overwhelming advantage over the batter. Mostly that is because of the size of the ball, the nature of the bat (hint: it’s round) and the speed at which the pill is delivered.

Statistics tell the story. Even the very best batters fail to make a hit more than about 35% of the time. Exceptional batters make it to 40%…but not for very long, and they’re legendary. Not hitting the ball then becomes mostly what a hitter does.

It is worth contemplating that for a while. Not hitting is what even hall of fame-type hitters do.

Also worth pondering is that while the big-hitting home-run guys get much of the glory and almost all of the steroids, the guys who are regular hitters – getting singles, stealing bases and fielding well – earn almost as much money. And that’s a lot.

Finding the right person with whom to couple is similar to embarking on a baseball season. You never know what the pitchers will dish up. You cannot beat the odds meaningfully. You cannot create any shortcuts: the rules and the equipment are immutable. You are guaranteed to strike out.

On the other hand, if you play the right pitches correctly, you will find yourself somewhere. First base, maybe. (No, this isn’t where I wanted to go with the idea, but, well, whatever.) You might get some support from team members behind you and advance around the bags. And sometimes, just sometimes, you will find the most beautiful ball right in the middle of your swing plane and smooch it right out of town.

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