Sometimes I see myself as Mariano Rivera

Mariano Rivera, aka Hammer of God or Mo or Sandman or The Panama Express, is what they call in baseball a closer. A guy who is so good that his team will use him only in the last moments of the game. To close the deal.

Mariano Rivera doesn’t play with his teammates. He hardly even looks at the game. He chews gum and looks detached. And at the very end, he will get a call from his coach. It will be time to save the day. And he will. Journalists like Eric Neel will write stuff like this about Mariano:

“Here's what we'll tell our kids: He looked like an alien, and threw like a god. He had one pitch -- and with that one pitch, like David with one rock in a slingshot, he could fell any foe. With that one pitch he could escape any danger […]With that one pitch he wrote poems. With that one pitch he sang songs. With that one pitch he saved souls and converted non-believers, and brought peace to the boroughs and joy to the masses. And we will not be exaggerating.”

So yes, I quite see myself as Mariano Rivera. I too could not go to work with my colleagues. I too could chew gum and look detached. I too could have journalists write nice things about me. My boss could call me for the last day before the holiday. We need you, Major, he would say. We need you bad. So I’d go to work, just for a few minutes.

Happily.

I think I’d be seriously good at it.