Last night’s game must’ve been a jarring mix for almost everyone.
And in my case I came upon it directly from having just spent two days back in the mountains of Big Sur again.
And it’s an odd juxtaposition to drive the coast like that.
I knew nothing and cared nothing about between-games scuttlebutt. That’s one of the virtues of losses—let alone one of the virtues of mountains. That they can help correct obsession.
But what I was thinking about from dirt road to county road to Highway 1 all the way into Carmel was how when I’d signed on to cover Game 5 (some time ago), it had never crossed my mind that I might end up writing a swan-song now.