I have to write an autobiography about math for a class. What do I remember, how do I use it now, and so on. I found ways to avoid math for the larger part of my life. Went to a university that allowed me to create my own requirements. For my science credit I took the geography of wine...
I add money at the end of my shifts. I calculate tips. But when do I actually think about math?
Baseball. Baseball is the only time I really evaluate numbers.
I was at a SABR event recently, and someone made a comment about math and baseball. They said all sports writer’s need now are numbers. There is a science to baseball, and not the type of science I learned in college. All of the sudden I worried, had I fallen into the wrong sport?
As I looked out my window this morning, I watched a boy playing baseball in the bitter cold. I wondered if he was thinking numbers. When I was growing up I don’t remember focusing on the numbers. I collected baseball cards, but I never studied the backs of them. I knew there were usually nine innings in a game. Three strikes to an out. Too many fouls, and three outs to an inning.
I remember the drama. I remember trying to hear the silent communication between the pitcher and catcher. I remember the guilt from forgetting to wear my lucky socks. I remember Nomar’s habit before batting.
But I don’t remember the numbers.
I used to dream of being a sports writer, but in reality, I’ll always be a story writer.
