In the end, there was a hollow place inside. Lou Piniella, failing to rage against the dying of the light? Passing on more chance to spew some lava for and/or at the media?
Good heavens, the least he could have done is kick some dirt on an umpire one more time. Then we would have known he still had some fire in the belly.
But in the end, the fires were all out, leaving only a man who, at bottom, still knows what class looks like. He thanked the fans of Chicago, he thanked the Cubs organization, he wept. And now he'll step away from the game that benefited so much from his passion for the best of all possible reasons: To go take care of his ailing mother.
Gee, whatta you know. Suddenly that hollow place inside doesn't feel quite so hollow at all.