Hanging by a small red thread, or seam

Walking throughout Dodd Stadium, there was plenty of gallows humor. Some people couldn't wait to be done and others wished today would somehow stay a day away.

If there's away for someone to speak at their funeral, this is much of what it felt like. The sense of inevitable, the lack of control in the process. It was all too much.

I sat in my press box seat, maybe for the last time, opened the shades that allow me to look upon the field and imagined the numerous Defenders I saw take their swings or go into the windup on the mound. For once, they all blended together into an amalgamation.

Nervousness, and maybe a dash of hope for a last-minute surprise, were hiding under the surface. Yet the last day of school with a final exam or two to go theme lingered.

There is no crying in baseball, but there is most certainly sadness.