The frivolous and the deadly

Anyone who writes a blog about watching baseball and fighting cancer has to acknowledge that the juxtaposition of the frivolous and the deadly can be a little odd.  That was evident Sunday at Nats Park, where they lowered the flags to half staff, observed a moment of silence, and noted periodically throughout the TV broadcast that it was a tragic day for America before turning back with enthusiasm to a terrific baseball game.

We didn't make it out to the park on Sunday. I've been lethargic to the point that extracting myself from the couch is a minor project, and I was still having a few shooting pains from the procedure last week when the docs stuck a tube down my throat and cleaned out the bile ducts. (The procedure went well, they tell me; in any event my appetite is better, at least regarding the mint chocolate chip ice cream we make with mint from Sally's garden.)

So we watched the game on TV. Nats go up by 3, Phillies come back to tie it in the 6th, Jonathan Papelbon -- the Nats closer who is either unnerved by his former Philly teammates or just getting old -- comes on in the 9th and gives up a go-ahead home run. Then, bottom of the 9th: Nats get some good at-bats, some hustle by Harper, and Jayson Werth strides to the plate with the bases loaded, two outs, any swing could determine the game. It was, he said later, the moment every kid imagines when playing Wiffle ball in the back yard. Werth -- who is not unnerved by his former team and in fact draws energy from the charming comments of his former fans -- singled up the middle. 5-4 walk-off. Nats mob Werth after he rounds first. He looks fabulously, marvelously, little-boy happy.

Then back to the news from Orlando. It is horrifying, maddening, but I still find myself following it with a bit of distance. That is perhaps a learned habit. During our time in Saudi, I remember coming out of the mall after doing some shopping and checking the car for bombs before strapping the girls into their car seats. (Actually, statistically, traffic is a far greater hazard than terrorism anywhere in the world.)  And a few years later, when we were returning home from Cairo, telling the girls that we would no longer be buying groceries at the commissary so no one would need to sweep the car for explosives before we drove into the Safeway parking lot. My way of staying sane while raising kids in such environments was to take a hard look at the statistics, which show that the actual risk of terrorism is insignificant compared to all the more mundane hazards in the world.

That does not lessen the grief and horror of Orlando. But I do believe that a clear-eyed risk assessment can help make sense of it all. And in matters of the frivolous and the deadly, there may be some value in the psychological disconnect that comes from a fine baseball game on an otherwise grim afternoon.