Aim At Eternity.

I'm sure that I've mentioned it before but I was an odd duckling as a child. One of my weird little quirks was that while other kids doodled flowers and hearts and happy faces, I drew floor plans: floor plans for houses both real and imaginary, for dance studios, for schools, for theaters. It probably wouldn't have been such strange behavior, if I was the child of an architect. But I wasn't. Both of my parents were accountants and I had never met an architect in my life.

One of my clearest memories from third grade, though, is my teacher, Mrs. McNeil, asking the class what they wanted to be when they grew up and replying, after I told her that I wanted to be an architect: you can't be an architect, if you can't draw a straight line. It's true that I can't free hand a straight line. I can't trace a straight line. I can't even really draw a straight line with a ruler because it always ends up angled. My drawing ability pretty much extends to stick people. It seems like a terrible thing to tell a kid though; it's not like drawing a straight line isn't a skill that one can acquire. And so died my architectural dreams.

Christopher Wren said, "Architecture aims at eternity."

With the lack of long term commitments on his books, Ben Cherington has the opportunity to design his own team from the cellar up, largely without the influence of the previous administration. He can choose his building materials. He could opt for rafters or trusses. He could choose to add filigree.  He could choose to build a team that would soar to heights that would awe even Wren or he could elect to build a squat, no-frills functional team.

I hope that Cherington's design is aimed at eternity and not just at putting butts in the seats for 2013. And in case he isn't aimed in the right direction, say no to Farrell. There are better options out there.