48.

He’s been called a warrior, a beast, a warrior-beast. An old man, by sports measure.

He’s been broken and repaired and broken and repaired and if I were to complete this sentence with any semblance of accuracy I’d find a half dozen of you unsubscribing, basis: run-on sentence overload.

Maybe he’s done, maybe not.

But maybe.

His sports sunset is at least in view.

And he’s 10 years younger than me. A little more than that, actually.

When Colby Lewis was drafted, the Newberg Report was already a thing. That’s a little shocking to realize.

When I was his age, he hadn’t even left the States for Japan.

Today is my 17,532nd day, but that doesn’t fit on the back of a jersey like 48 does, and as of today I’ve had that many years.

48 is Daryl Johnston and Gerald Alexander and Mike Bacsik (Sr.) and an NBA game and it’s a cool number mathematically and tied inextricably to the word “contiguous” and it’s Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy, not to be confused with Eric Nolte and Dan Murphy, cup-of-coffee relievers with the 1989 Padres, when I was meeting my eventual wife in college, and Colby Lewis was 10.

Nolan Ryan was only 46 when he retired. And that’s possibly the strangest sentence I’ve ever written.

I drink coffee now and the gray is gaining rapidly on the brown and I’ve got a kid looking at colleges herself and I get fired up when there are Brussels sprouts on the menu.

But Nolan is still in the game and Colby hasn’t ruled it out and I’m writing about it, still.

I’ve been broken and repaired some myself, though I’m far less bionic than either of those guys and more appreciative than ever of their ability to rebound, their resilience, their staying power.

Chances are becoming greater, I find myself coming to terms with, that none of the three of us, going forward, will pitch in the big leagues.

I’m OK with that.

And if you think I’m not going to find more ways to write about Colby Lewis until the day I eventually catch sight of my own sunset and stop doing this, you might choose to think again, after which you may kindly remove yourself from my lawn.

 

 
title_authors

Jamey Newberg

Dallas attorney Jamey Newberg has been commenting on Rangers from the big club down through the entire farm system since 1998.

Scott Lucas

Scott Lucas was born in Arlington, Texas, to Richard and Becky Lucas. He lived mostly in Arlington before moving to Austin, where he graduated from The University of Texas. Scott works for Austin Valuation Consultants, Ltd., and has published several boring articles about real estate appraisal and environmental contamination. He makes a swell margarita and refuses to run longer than ten kilometres.

Eleanor Czajka

Eleanor grew up watching the AAA Mudhens in Toledo, Ohio. A loyal Ranger fan since 1979, she works "behind the scenes" at the Newberg Report.

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