Comeback Season Quotes

She understands now what she, in all her worry, had forgotten. That even as she hesitates and wavers, even as she thinks too much and moves too cautiously, she doesn't always have to get it right. It's okay to look back, even as you move forward.

She filed those moments away like precious documents, wore them smooth with memory, collected them like bits of prayers.

Just like Seasons, People Change. But the difference is, once gone, seasons come back.

Hi,' he says. 'Hi,' she says back, and then to her great surprise, she begins to cry. 'You know,' Nick says as he hands her a tissue from the bedside table,' for all this talk about how you don't cry, you sure are sprouting a lot of water.

Talking to you is one of my favorite things to do." "Top 10?" she asked. "Top 5 at least," he said with a wink.

Emily tucks her knees up beneath her and leans forward on the table. 'Do you like Ryan?' she asks Nick, and Mom's eyes go wide. Kevin chokes a little on his water. Mortified, Ryan looks away, holding her breath. Nick turns to Emily, and with mock seriousness, leans down to consult with her. 'Do you like Ryan?' Emily considers this a moment, tapping a finger against her lips in thought. 'I guess most of the time,' she says finally. 'I guess she's okay.' 'Then I think so too' he says, turning back to the rest of the table. He winks at Ryan. 'We've decided you're okay.' She breathes out. 'I can live with that.

Beside her, she can feel each breath he draws. How is it possible to be so close to a person and still not know what you are to each other? With baseball, it's simple. There's no mystery to what happens on the field because everything has a label -- full count, earned run, perfect game -- and there's a certain amount of comfort in this terminology. There's no room for confusion and Ryan wishes now that everything could be so straightforward. But then Nick pulls her closer, and she rests her head on his chest, and nothing seems more important that this right here.

It's not about winning or losing, really,” he’s saying. “It’s just the showing up every day. It’s stepping up to the plate and whiffing, and then doing it over and over again, whether you get a hit or not. It’s getting up every morning and failing and being disappointed and getting beat up and being let down, and then doing it all over again the next day.

September days are crisp and golden. I've been turn like the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky to survive. And when comeback to reality, I knew gracefully, life is a gift.

The leadoff batter for the Minnesota Twins hit a foul ball into the stands and struck his mother. He will spend the rest of the season in his room.

Wow. This place looks classy. The smell of fertilizer and rot is really in this season. Remind me, what are we doing here?” she asked looking at him with a coy smile. “Did we come for bait?

And when the time finally comes to say good-bye, she'll swallow hard against the tightness of her throat and the weight of her heart. She'll think I'll miss you and she'll think don't go and she'll think please. But what she'll finally say is simply thank you, and it will mean all of these things - everything promised and remembered, everything wordless and spoken and understood - and so much more.

It’s Curt Schilling and his bloody sock staring down the Yankees in the Bronx. It’s Derek Lowe taking the mound the very next night to complete the most improbable comeback in baseball history—and then seven days later clinching the World Series. It’s Pedro Martinez and his six hitless innings of postseason relief against the Indians. Yes, it is also Cy Young and Roger Clemens, and the 192 wins in a Red Sox uniform that they share—the perfect game for Young, the 20 strikeout games for Clemens—but it is also Bill Dinneen clinching the 1903 World Series with a busted, bloody hand, and Jose Santiago shutting down Minnesota with two games left in the season to keep the 1967 Impossible Dream alive, and Jim Lonborg clinching the Impossible Dream the very next day, and Jim Lonborg again, tossing a one-hitter and a three-hitter in the 1967 World Series, and Luis Tiant in the 1975 postseason, shutting out Oakland and Cincinnati in back-to-back starts. They are all winners.

For a team facing a 12-run deficit, the game is all but over. Almost always. Three times in major league history, though, a club has come from down by a dozen to win. The Chicago White Sox were the first in 1911; fourteen years later, the Philadelphia Athletics duplicated the feat. Then seventy-six years would pass before it happened again. Enter the 2001 Cleveland Indians, battling for their sixth playoff spot in seven years. Hosting the red-hot Seattle Mariners, who would win a major league record 116 games that season, the Tribe found themselves trailing 12–0 after just three innings. In the middle of the seventh, Seattle led 14–2—at which point the Indians began their historic comeback. Scoring three in the seventh, four in the eighth, and five in the ninth, Cleveland forced extra innings. In the bottom of the eleventh, utility man Jolbert Cabrera slapped a broken-bat single to score Kenny Lofton for one of the more remarkable wins in the annals of baseball. On August 6, 2001, not even a 12-run deficit could stop the Cleveland Indians. Those of us who follow Jesus Christ can expect even greater victories. “I am convinced,” the apostle Paul wrote, “that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38–39). If you’re deep in the hole today, take heart. As God’s child, you’re always still in the game. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. HEBREWS

I appreciate that, but I want to . . .” Clear the air dies on my tongue as Jason points to the clock on the wall. “I need to hit the treadmill, and then I have a date at my place with a very special guy. See you later. And best of luck this season.” Then he gives me that crooked smile that melts my heart and balls. “And I can’t wait to destroy you on the field.

Orchard stores advertising cherries and apples, fresh baked goods, gifts appeared along the road. Some promised the best cider donuts or cherry pie, others had outdoor activities where children could burn off some energy, and yet others offered to let you pick your own cherries when the season started. As they approached a store offering a wide selection of samples, Isaac pulled into the parking lot. It seemed like a good time to stretch their legs and grab a snack at the same time. "Let's see what we've gotten ourselves into, Barracuda," Isaac said. He stepped onto the gravel parking lot, the rocks shifting under his flip-flops. Minivans, SUVs, and cars, many bearing out-of-state plates, filled the lot. Inside the store, freezers contained frozen cherries, apple juice from last season, and pies. Fresh baked goods lined shelves, and quippy signs hung from the walls that said things like IF I HAD KNOWN GRANDKIDS WERE SO MUCH FUN, I WOULD HAVE HAD THEM FIRST and I ENJOY A GLASS OF WINE EACH NIGHT FOR THE HEALTH BENEFITS. THE REST ARE FOR MY WITTY COMEBACKS AND FLAWLESS DANCE MOVES. Bass slid his hand into Isaac's as they walked around the store, staying close to him as they sampled pretzels with cherry-studded dips and homemade jams. A café sold freshly roasted Door County-brand coffee and cherry sodas made with Door County cherry juice. In the bakery area, Isaac picked up a container of apple turnovers still warm from the oven- they would be a tasty breakfast in their motel room tomorrow.