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	<title>Cold Case In Ellyson &#187; bat</title>
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		<title>Why baseball is like police work</title>
		<link>http://blog.coldcaseinellyson.com/2010/04/24/why-baseball-is-like-police-work/</link>
		<comments>http://blog.coldcaseinellyson.com/2010/04/24/why-baseball-is-like-police-work/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 24 Apr 2010 12:55:13 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[Overview of the Book and Me]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[baseball]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[bat]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[police]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blog.coldcaseinellyson.com/?p=146</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[That&#8217;s right &#8211; a baseball game is so similar to police work, it&#8217;s scary&#8230;Think about it &#8211; moments of routine and boredom punctuated by seconds of chaos and drama. Maybe that&#8217;s why I love the game so much; I&#8217;m willing to invest the time to share in those flashes of excitement. I shared one of [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>That&#8217;s right &#8211; a baseball game is so similar to police work, it&#8217;s scary&#8230;Think about it &#8211; moments of routine and boredom punctuated by seconds of chaos and drama. Maybe that&#8217;s why I love the game so much; I&#8217;m willing to invest the time to share in those flashes of excitement. </p>
<p>I shared one of those moments yesterday with my youngest son in the backyard. He wanted to throw; we threw. He wanted popups; I gave him popups. It was all so wonderful and ordinary. I wanted him to practice hitting; I pitched little marbles at him to give him confidence. And then the bat slipped from his grasp and straight into the master bedroom window. It was all so ordinary, until then.</p>
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