Like They Used To

When I say that games from twenty-five or twenty-nine years ago seem somehow better to me — simpler, or cleaner, or more exciting, or whatever — I am, in effect, listening to Springsteen. I’m conjuring a moment Before The Fall, a time predating life’s hinge, the point where The Past drops off into The Present and things cease making sense, or exist in stubbornly unresolved form. They are yet changeable, and mutability can make difficult a lazy comfort of the sort offered by nostalgia. That’s why the best heroes are dead ones.

“Like They Used To,” on the Kansas City Royals, and Bruce Springsteen, and Ottawa, and nostalgia, and other things, for The Classical

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