Creativity Quote by Juliana Hatfield

Calling David Ortiz a "genius" isn’t a stat-head argument; it’s a fan’s attempt to name a feeling that numbers can’t quite hold. Juliana Hatfield, a musician, reaches for an artist’s vocabulary to describe an athlete whose work is usually measured in exit velocity and RBIs. "Transcendent" is the tell: she’s not praising competency or even greatness so much as the moment when a baseball swing stops being labor and becomes spectacle, almost spiritual release. In that word you can hear what sports do at their best: they don’t just entertain, they briefly reorganize your sense of what’s possible.

The repetition in "Over and over" matters too. Ortiz’s legend is built on recurrence: the reliable arrival of the improbable at exactly the right time. Hatfield is responding to the unique pleasure of watching someone make the exceptional feel routine, a rhythm any songwriter understands. Genius, in this framing, isn’t IQ; it’s command. The crowd knows what might happen, the pitcher knows, Ortiz knows, and it happens anyway. That’s virtuosity as narrative power.

There’s also a cultural wink here: a rock musician anointing a ballplayer collapses the usual hierarchy of "serious art" versus "mere sports". Hatfield’s line argues, casually but firmly, that Big Papi’s home runs belong in the same category as any performance that leaves an audience stunned and oddly grateful to have witnessed it.