I stood against a wall and observed my father watching the ball game with my boys. They were arguing about a call on a play. I thought of Laertes in the one last moment of glory he was so improbably granted on the battlefield, exulting in the fact that he had lived to see the day when he could stand on the field of battle together with his son and grandson. “Ah, what a day for me!” Odysseus’ father says.
