"Then the boy saw all— Since he was old enough to know, big boy

Doing a man’s work, though a child at heart—" - Robert Frost

Got the Sano news via phone notification as I got out of bed, and the grayness hung in the air like it saw this one coming.

Flesh fails us all, but it is not supposed to crap out on a young physical wonder standing in the wings, moments away from his MLB debut. In January, Sano drew long lines of fans at Twinsfest. Now he begins a long road toward rebuilding his body, and I wish him nothing but the best.

Athletes grow into tremendous physical gifts, but the flesh plays by its own rules. It must be a helluva kidney punch when an up-and-coming slugger realizes he is captain of an odd collection of fleshy bits, quite capable of mutiny. Eat right, exercise . . . and maybe something congenital gets you anyway.

I want Sano to be bulletproof because Lord knows I'm not. I am past skipping the doctor and into an age where the doc has a usual list of things to watch out for. Believing in slo-mo swings for the bleachers under calm blue skies makes me feel like a body could live forever.

But it cannot.

I wonder if Sano, just entering his twenties, realizes his personal pain triggers sadness in the older fans, who want him to be young and amazing as a surrogate. Most likely he is simply concerned with healing and living his life, as he should be.

And we, who are not the future baseball, must get on with our lives as fans who still need the dream.