Flat On Your Face

There was a play in the Yankees season-ending loss that struck me as a human moment.

The pressure was on and a routine double play ground ball headed straight for Jazz’s glove.

He booted it.

Two fatal runs ended up scoring.

Jazz spent a minute looking at his glove, his face was a mask of disbelief.

Yankees fans everywhere saying, “***k Jazz!”

The broadcast cameras kept showing his face, and replaying it all.

After the game, Jazz stood there and took it, saying that he will see it in his head for months.

And it’s big-time sports and he’s paid well to play on the biggest stage, but Toronto mocked the team by playing Sinatra in their clubhouse and yelling, “Da, Yankees lose!” with laughing steroid cheat, David Ortiz.

Classy move.

And I went to bed, disappointed, knowing that to win those games, you need to make those plays.

Thought of falling on one’s face with the whole world looking on.

Scott Norwood suffered years of depression, and disappeared after missing the field goal that would have won the Bills a Super Bowl.

His life forever changed.

Jazz and the Yankees will have further chances.

Yet, I headed for bed wondering how he feels as he puts his head on the pillow following such a play.

Jazz is in for a few sleepless nights because he clanked a ball off his glove.

We’ve all done it.