Fall Weather Fan
- Wade
I fancy myself as a die-hard baseball fan.
I claim to love the tradition, the statistics, the game itself. How it represents all things pure in the world.
But let's be honest. The games are boring. Three hours? Nothing is enjoyable for three hours. And 162 games? That's an average of 484 hours of baseball a year, or 20.25 days of watching baseball STRAIGHT THROUGH. And it's not like those three hours are action-packed. You've got the slow trudge of the batter up to the box. A couple practice swings. Adjust the gloves. Stare down at the third-base coach for the sign, squinting a bit. Stepping into the box, digging into the dirt with his cleat. Practice swing. The *whole game*. And that's not even describing the pitcher's stutters, hesitations, and fake pickoff throws to first.
While I anticipate the baseball season like little else, it's safe to say that I have trouble paying much attention past May. I'll watch Twins games, but not fervently. I'll listen to the games while in transit or doing yardwork, but it's more of a "soundtrack of your life" thing than actively listening.
And then the playoffs roll around. It's been great with the Twins in the playoffs the last couple of years, but honestly? It doesn't matter. I'll watch Atlanta and the Cubs with as much zeal, even though I routinely flip past their regular season games on cable. I watch every pitch. I develop some sort of baseball insight that I never have during the regular season, like some sort of savant whose skills only bloom when the leaves start to turn.
I made this realization yesterday while sitting in a bar downtown after work. (I missed my bus. Get off my back.) I was staring up at the Boston - Yanks game and realized I was talking. Out loud. By myself. I had been saying such witticisms as "good call" or "oooh, nasty pitch" and "wow, nick johnson sure looks stupid" without even realizing I was talking. I noticed it again last night during the NL game-- physically reacting to Kerry Wood's homerun as though I'd won the lottery. And I don't even like the Cubs.
Maybe I care more because the meaning of the games are concentated-- there aren't 160-some games left to make up ground if you lose. Maybe it's because of the passion that the players display, even though (in the case of the Red Sox) it's misdirected at times. Maybe it's because I just want to see Roger Clemens snap and bite Todd Walker's ear off.
Whatever. Play ball.
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feedback. Maybe we'll even run your letters in future Gambits. 'The Daily Gambit' is updated every weekday.
