[This is part of a series exploring the Baseball Tarot. If you would like to prompt for a part of the game or a card from the deck, there's only one space left for tomorrow. Leave a comment with a prompt if you want in. All other comments are still welcome, of course.]
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onyxlynx, who wanted to talk about how players sometimes live on.
A career in sport is much like any other career, truthfully. After study and practice, one applies, and if accepted, begins the path. The Rookie represents the beginning of the journey, and also, in my opinion, its end, but most people would peg the end of a career at the point of retirement, when one stops doing the job that one has been doing for many years of life. There's no guarantee, of course, that retirement will be with the same team, or doing the same job, or that one won't have been fired, laid off, or otherwise had an upheaval along the way that caused a change in direction. No, at retirement, one gives up the game completely, at least at the point where one is engaged, as many players go on to be coaches, managers, commentators, or maintain ties to the game after they stop playing. Coaches and managers sometimes do the same, but more often than not, they move on from the game entirely.
The Rider-Waite equivalent of this card is DEATH, which has long been used as a symbol of change in mystic traditions. The evocation of mortality, however, often brings with it feelings that are difficult to process, memories of those gone, and the existential unknown of whether there is a continuance of existence after consciousness and corporeality cease. It's a scary place whenever DEATH gets involved, which is why it can be more comforting to think of it in less final terms, or to portray that particular sibling of the Endless as a generally perky and upbeat Goth woman, because she knows the secret of what's next. Retirement is certainly a preferable concept to work with, even though for a career in baseball, it can be just as final.
There are some whose career will be cut short - injury is common in baseball, and some injuries are worse than others. Some will necessitate a trip to the Disabled List, others will be described as "season-ending", but the very worst will be described as "career-ending." Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis claimed the career of a very good baseball player long before their time. Other players will do things off the field that compromise their ability to play or coach, by behaving in ways that gather or warrant prison sentences. Or participating in a military draft. When those things come to light, that player or coach will not likely be able to play again. Much like life, one's time in baseball is not a fixed guarantee.
Then there are the players who want to prolong their retirement as much as possible, or that feel their career arc is not going to produce enough fame and fortune for their liking. Some people turn to performance enhancement as a way of keeping themselves in the game, risking their bodies and their careers for a little more - to be a little stronger, a little faster. These days, especially in the wake of the BALCO scandal, it appears to be an open secret about the use of steroids and other methods to produce bigger and better baseball players for hitting, running, throwing, and pitching. The game seems to be losing the mental aspects in favor of becoming a brute-force contest. This is not good, especially when it encourages bodies that aren't yet developed to try better living through chemistry. There may be a benefit in the short term, but the long term effects, including what happens after retirement, could easily wipe out those gains.
In the end, though, retirement comes for us all. The body is not fast enough any more to run the bases, the arm doesn't have enough zip, the eyes don't see, the bat doesn't pop any more. Or the game just isn't fun or worthwhile any more. For whatever reason, someone just can't keep up any more, or the game has changed sufficiently for them that they're no longer able to play well. In the best case scenario, it's after a long career with great numbers and statistical categories, possibly with more than a few playoff visits and at least one World Series ring on their finger. The kind of career as a player that would make someone a first-ballot entry into the Baseball Hall of Fame and well-remembered by the team(s) they played for throughout. There are many names in the Hall that aren't names that come immediately to mind, unless you're a fan of that particular team, but if you look at their accomplishments, they clearly deserve to be there.
The pinnacle of accomplishment, even after making the Hall, is for the team that you are most famous for playing with to determine that your career with them was just that good that all other players for that team will no longer be able to select your number. When you retire, so does your number. There's usually a big ceremony where a jersey with your number on it is presented, and your number and name will be displayed somewhere in the stadium where they honor the team's greatest players. There are a lot of players in the Hall who didn't have their numbers retired - it's usually only a handful of players even for teams like the Yankees of New York, the Cubs of Chicago, and the Red Sox of Boston that have a very long history of baseball. When teams change places, their history still comes with them, even if they change names, so you may find some very famous people who are retired from the Nationals of Washington, D.C. whose mark was made on the game when they were the Expositions of Montreal. Having a number retired is the way to ensure that your legacy is felt by the team for years to come. You become the legend that many will talk about when they lament the team's current state and long for when the team was good, or at least decent. Certain fans may have a skewed view of what constitutes good (the AL Central is closer to reality than the AL East, for example), but you'll always be good in their minds.
Framing it as retirement helps to take away the sting of finality that accompanies the knowledge that this card is normally DEATH, and helps to also point out that the nature of the card is change, not finality. Most people do not retire from their careers by dying. They have put in their work, saved their wages and are ready to go on to the next phase of their life. Most of us plebeians retire from our jobs to live out the rest of our life without having to work, with the freedom that implies. And many people that I see who have retired are busier than ever doing all the things they want to do instead of the things they were paid to do. Baseball players sometimes follow the same track - they end up mentoring or coaching or being available to younger teams without pay, or they end up in the front office of their team, recruiting, marketing, and sometimes managing, whether in the dugout or as the general manager of the team, drawing a salary to another retirement later on in time. Those who don't stay with the game still have lives to continue on doing, and all the assets to manage. Or they have families to spend more time with, and new generations of players to inspire. Things change a lot when you retire, and that freedom can be scary, with all that time on your hands and having to manage the money you've collected over working time (with a little help from pensions or Social Security) to last for many more decades.
If Retirement appears in your reading, change is on the way. You're moving from one phase of life to another - it may seem like the end, but it's a transition into something new and likely just as exciting. You might have a little time left, so now is a good time to shore up your legacy and make sure that the people who come after you have everything they need to succeed when you aren't there. Your hope is still to get to the Hall and have your number retired, but those things happen after you're gone. If what you leave behind is good, then you'll make it.
The bad side of Retirement is refusing to acknowledge that it's a force of life. Postponing the planning makes it harder to transition and may leave you entirely unprepared for Retirement when it happens. If you can live your life and career with the expectation that you will be out of baseball tomorrow, then there is very little that can phase you on the field or off. Make sure you have all your paperwork in order, for you and for the other people in your life, because the time they need it is usually the time that you're incapacitated or unable to express your wishes. And in those situations, you want nobody to be guessing what you want.
For
onyxlynx, who wanted to talk about how players sometimes live on.A career in sport is much like any other career, truthfully. After study and practice, one applies, and if accepted, begins the path. The Rookie represents the beginning of the journey, and also, in my opinion, its end, but most people would peg the end of a career at the point of retirement, when one stops doing the job that one has been doing for many years of life. There's no guarantee, of course, that retirement will be with the same team, or doing the same job, or that one won't have been fired, laid off, or otherwise had an upheaval along the way that caused a change in direction. No, at retirement, one gives up the game completely, at least at the point where one is engaged, as many players go on to be coaches, managers, commentators, or maintain ties to the game after they stop playing. Coaches and managers sometimes do the same, but more often than not, they move on from the game entirely.
The Rider-Waite equivalent of this card is DEATH, which has long been used as a symbol of change in mystic traditions. The evocation of mortality, however, often brings with it feelings that are difficult to process, memories of those gone, and the existential unknown of whether there is a continuance of existence after consciousness and corporeality cease. It's a scary place whenever DEATH gets involved, which is why it can be more comforting to think of it in less final terms, or to portray that particular sibling of the Endless as a generally perky and upbeat Goth woman, because she knows the secret of what's next. Retirement is certainly a preferable concept to work with, even though for a career in baseball, it can be just as final.
There are some whose career will be cut short - injury is common in baseball, and some injuries are worse than others. Some will necessitate a trip to the Disabled List, others will be described as "season-ending", but the very worst will be described as "career-ending." Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis claimed the career of a very good baseball player long before their time. Other players will do things off the field that compromise their ability to play or coach, by behaving in ways that gather or warrant prison sentences. Or participating in a military draft. When those things come to light, that player or coach will not likely be able to play again. Much like life, one's time in baseball is not a fixed guarantee.
Then there are the players who want to prolong their retirement as much as possible, or that feel their career arc is not going to produce enough fame and fortune for their liking. Some people turn to performance enhancement as a way of keeping themselves in the game, risking their bodies and their careers for a little more - to be a little stronger, a little faster. These days, especially in the wake of the BALCO scandal, it appears to be an open secret about the use of steroids and other methods to produce bigger and better baseball players for hitting, running, throwing, and pitching. The game seems to be losing the mental aspects in favor of becoming a brute-force contest. This is not good, especially when it encourages bodies that aren't yet developed to try better living through chemistry. There may be a benefit in the short term, but the long term effects, including what happens after retirement, could easily wipe out those gains.
In the end, though, retirement comes for us all. The body is not fast enough any more to run the bases, the arm doesn't have enough zip, the eyes don't see, the bat doesn't pop any more. Or the game just isn't fun or worthwhile any more. For whatever reason, someone just can't keep up any more, or the game has changed sufficiently for them that they're no longer able to play well. In the best case scenario, it's after a long career with great numbers and statistical categories, possibly with more than a few playoff visits and at least one World Series ring on their finger. The kind of career as a player that would make someone a first-ballot entry into the Baseball Hall of Fame and well-remembered by the team(s) they played for throughout. There are many names in the Hall that aren't names that come immediately to mind, unless you're a fan of that particular team, but if you look at their accomplishments, they clearly deserve to be there.
The pinnacle of accomplishment, even after making the Hall, is for the team that you are most famous for playing with to determine that your career with them was just that good that all other players for that team will no longer be able to select your number. When you retire, so does your number. There's usually a big ceremony where a jersey with your number on it is presented, and your number and name will be displayed somewhere in the stadium where they honor the team's greatest players. There are a lot of players in the Hall who didn't have their numbers retired - it's usually only a handful of players even for teams like the Yankees of New York, the Cubs of Chicago, and the Red Sox of Boston that have a very long history of baseball. When teams change places, their history still comes with them, even if they change names, so you may find some very famous people who are retired from the Nationals of Washington, D.C. whose mark was made on the game when they were the Expositions of Montreal. Having a number retired is the way to ensure that your legacy is felt by the team for years to come. You become the legend that many will talk about when they lament the team's current state and long for when the team was good, or at least decent. Certain fans may have a skewed view of what constitutes good (the AL Central is closer to reality than the AL East, for example), but you'll always be good in their minds.
Framing it as retirement helps to take away the sting of finality that accompanies the knowledge that this card is normally DEATH, and helps to also point out that the nature of the card is change, not finality. Most people do not retire from their careers by dying. They have put in their work, saved their wages and are ready to go on to the next phase of their life. Most of us plebeians retire from our jobs to live out the rest of our life without having to work, with the freedom that implies. And many people that I see who have retired are busier than ever doing all the things they want to do instead of the things they were paid to do. Baseball players sometimes follow the same track - they end up mentoring or coaching or being available to younger teams without pay, or they end up in the front office of their team, recruiting, marketing, and sometimes managing, whether in the dugout or as the general manager of the team, drawing a salary to another retirement later on in time. Those who don't stay with the game still have lives to continue on doing, and all the assets to manage. Or they have families to spend more time with, and new generations of players to inspire. Things change a lot when you retire, and that freedom can be scary, with all that time on your hands and having to manage the money you've collected over working time (with a little help from pensions or Social Security) to last for many more decades.
If Retirement appears in your reading, change is on the way. You're moving from one phase of life to another - it may seem like the end, but it's a transition into something new and likely just as exciting. You might have a little time left, so now is a good time to shore up your legacy and make sure that the people who come after you have everything they need to succeed when you aren't there. Your hope is still to get to the Hall and have your number retired, but those things happen after you're gone. If what you leave behind is good, then you'll make it.
The bad side of Retirement is refusing to acknowledge that it's a force of life. Postponing the planning makes it harder to transition and may leave you entirely unprepared for Retirement when it happens. If you can live your life and career with the expectation that you will be out of baseball tomorrow, then there is very little that can phase you on the field or off. Make sure you have all your paperwork in order, for you and for the other people in your life, because the time they need it is usually the time that you're incapacitated or unable to express your wishes. And in those situations, you want nobody to be guessing what you want.
