I don't like too many of George Will's columns but on one occasion he go it just right when he discussed what an aging pitcher brings to the mound when their arm is going. He said when the pitcher has nothing left to throw, they "throw their heart".
Typical sentimental baseball bullshit. But consider The Aging Fleetwoods singing perhaps the most beautiful song in the long history of Rock:
Tuesday 7 January 1661/62
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Long in bed, and then rose and went along with Sir W. Pen on foot to Stepny
to Mrs. Chappell's (who has the pretty boy to her son), and there met my
wife a...
5 hours ago
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