Perfect

This year, our Christmas tree turned out perfect.  I knew it would from the second I clipped on the star.  Everything followed from that—the lights, the ornaments, the gift boxes under the tree; we could have been giving a tutorial to Martha Stewart.  Our living room looked straight out of a colorized version of “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

This happens to me once every blue moon, the perfect pick the perfect timing the perfect whatever.  That explains my wife and child, and what success I’ve had as an armchair general manager.  I see a player for the first time and go, “Wow.”  Again, that explains my daughter.  Clare could hit from the start, before she reached her fourth birthday even. 

I felt that way about Bill Melton and Bart Johnson as well as Frank Thomas and Chris Sale.  Clip a star on them, they’re perfect, or would have been barring injury.