Just to get one last jab in at all the metaphor lovers out there, this chapter and its contents was like a baseball team. Yes, I said it... Every manager figures out the goal they want by the end of October, and they build their team around it. If they want to go for the pennant, they offload prospects and beef up on all-stars. If they want to rebuild, they offload the big contracts in order to get more draft picks. The team knows what they want, and create the roster around that. You never know, in a rebuilding season, teams may surprise you. Such as the Tampa Bay Rays and their unknown names making it to the playoffs in their infancy, or the San Francisco Giants winning it all three years ago (and this year as well, but they have built their team to go for it all). FYI, I was watching the news and the Jays made a huge 12 player trade and signed a new manager while I wrote this.
Here's a poem to end off the semester and the link of Frost reading it. Just to prove that poetry is meant to be read aloud : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ie2Mspukx14&feature=fvwrel
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost