Every year, I watch A League of Their Own when baseball season begins. It’s a remarkable film, and it is exceptionally timely for me now, with my recent struggles for meaning. Usually the part that gets me going is “There’s no crying in baseball.” But this year, this scene spoke to me:
So I have to figure out how to go forward, out of my free fall. No clue how.
But as sentimental as sports movies usually are, in this case, they are right. The hard is what makes it great.