In Roman numerals it is written as CLXIII. Some teams have already begun their summer of destiny, having pared down the number by one with a victory on Opening Day. The rest of the league’s fans await yet another day (weather permitting) to behold the hopes and dreams that spawn their own team’s summer of destiny.
I’m surprised that MLB hasn’t figured out a way to make some sort of promotional campaign out if it with printed on caps, T-shirts, gym bags, etc. Unlike the perfect square March Madness’s Field of 64 (albeit the inclusion of four extra play-ins), the magic number for baseball’s field of dreams embodies an awkward, quirky kind of symmetry. The three digits almost invoke a sort of homage to trinity in which the first digit is multiplied by the ordered sequence of the third, i.e. last digit, while the second digit divided by its own order in the sequence yet again yields the third, and final digit.
A one hundred and sixty-two game season, plus playoffs leading to the Fall Classic. It’s just a three digit number. But for an instant, the magic number represents the promise of greater glory for all and everyone who have come to enjoy the game of baseball in some way.