It has been too long since we gathered. This is both a good thing and a bad. On one side, we look to life, those living long fruitful lives with much to celebrate. They were the bearers of smiles for many over an extended time. Then came the end and the stark reality of death. The smiles quickly turned to frowns as sorrow soaked the land. For the beloved were gone, and with them the optimism that life will be forever bountiful.
Today we lay to rest two who lived long, only to come up woefully short during their time of reckoning. Two who played out the string of success only to be left hanging. They are the last of the middle class, so close to the elite, yet closer in spirit to the downtrodden and pathetic.
To the 2009 Detroit Tigers: Amidst gloom and doom, recession and depression, we were to be the shining light, a beacon of optimism where hope grew dim. Then, in a flash, you were extinguished, collapsing more rapidly than the pillars that held up your city. Now all that is left in the rubble, the dirt, and the four-bit homes is the memories and your disappointing rotting carcass. May the Great Creator Doubleday forgive you for yoking the emotions of your loved ones and may you rest in peace.
Our other burial du jour is of the lone star hero who came up two spurs short of a saddle. To the 2009 Texas Rangers, despite the strong-armed wisdom of a legendary cowboy, you failed to round 'em up and bring 'em in. Although you rode high, you fell woefully short of a perfect jaunt into the sunset, like the tattooed martyr among you. Now you leave behind a ranchful of promise, of youthful riders, and a gaggle of even younger gunslingers. But can future generations usurp the focus of your city from the majesty of a megalomaniac and his billion-dollar barrio? Will the stars at night shine big and bright for your kind again? We may soon find out. But as for you, may you rest in peace.