With apologies to Marilyn Monroe, diamonds—involving baseballs, not billionaires—are a boy’s best friend.
Or, at least, they were for me in Little League, and even as an overgrown kid now, more than four decades later, as I devour the daily major league box scores. I’m convinced I might have even come to love mathematics if only any of my teachers had told me that the diamond was obviously the most perfect shape in the world—and then pulled out a picture of a professional baseball stadium to prove it.
Several weeks ago, I took this picture of the baseball field in Foschini Park in Hackensack, NJ, a few miles from where I live. It is both specific and emblematic, a field of dreams that never really die.