Point of View: Ominous Tremors

The tsunami we call summer

Spring began for me over the weekend of April 21 and 22. The weather was the best it’s been in six months, it seemed, and athletic things, all of a sudden, abounded — the Katy’s Courage 5K in Sag Harbor, baseball, youth lacrosse, and youth soccer games at East Hampton High School, and, at the Pantigo fields, Little League’s opening ceremonies — all in one day.

Mary and I and O’en, our white golden, walked the 5K, though we cheated, cutting off a bothersome half-mile spur along Glover Street, where Andy Neidnig used to live, on our way to the finish line. 

I confessed to Jim Stewart, who took it in stride.

The winter, as everyone here knows, extended well through March and at least through the first half of April. I was always wondering, from about mid-February on, where my next story would be coming from. 

Newsday’s high school sportswriter suggested that Long Island not begin the spring sports season until it was really spring (not that we’ve ever had a spring), and, to accommodate that change, that Long Island’s spring championship teams forgo the state playoffs. 

But that would just tax even further my imaginative dexterity, I told Mary.

And now, just as I’ve begun to feel secure story-wise, I’m beginning nevertheless to sense the ominous tremors that precede the tsunami we call summer. 

There’s that golf tournament in Southampton, for one. The last time, I had to buy a periscope made by the Mickelsons to view the final round. My brother-in-law says I should stay home on Sunday and watch it on TV. Nothing like not being there. 

And then there’s the Class . . . Class . . . Classic, which, of course, keeps me jumping. I know nothing about golf, and less than nothing about horses. Which is why I’ve always depended on the kindness of my sources.

Still, it’s spring, and the ball Dylan Thomas threw while playing in the park / has not yet reached the ground.