Then there are baseball’s own sacred relics: Jackie Robinson’s No. 42, baseball’ holy shroud of Turin; its prophets: the scouts on the lookout for future major leaguers; and rituals such as the saintly Joe DiMaggio who would never run from his centerfield position to the dugout without first running in and touching second base.
The article is painful partly because the analogies are so overdone and partly because of the Rodrigues tragedy. But at least we can suppose that readers know about Robinson’s famous shirt at the National Baseball Hall of Fame Library in Cooperstown, New York. Oh, and we can suppose they also know about the shroud in Turin.
I do sense an increased awareness of the shroud.