Baseball

I love baseball. I love the game itself, the excitement, the skill of the players or depending on what level the lack of skill, the scoring, the batting, the fielding, everything. I enjoy watching baseball on every level; every level of the game and many levels within myself. From Little League at Fisher Field to the Boston Red Sox at Fenway I will be there, scoring the game, cap on my head, smile on my face.

Within...I feel so connected at a game, watching a game, listening to a game.
First, I know that there are thousands of other fans experiencing the same feelings I am. I love running into someone and just by the hat on their head being able to start a conversation.

Secondly there is the history. Generations of people have followed, lived and died by baseball. In my own family there is a love of baseball. My father was a Yankees fan at the end of his life, my maternal grandmother was a life-long Yankees fan, her father would not let anyone discuss any other team in his house, it was all Yankees all the time. They did live in Stamford CT. just outside of NY City, so I can't blame them for their affinity for the dark side. I am first and foremost a baseball fan, close on the heels of that I am a Red Sox fan.

Thirdly, I have met grown men who when discussing the baseball hall of fame begin to tear up, for me this defines baseball. We never really grow up and the game holds the joys of our youth within reach. I like to think of thousands of kids and adults playing together on baseball diamonds, in the streets, on back lots in North America, South America, Africa, China, Japan...playing a game with universal rules, playing a game.

There is something so special about this game and this love of a game that it defies words. We cannot name it, but we feel it and I for one treasure it. Who wins and who loses feels very important in the moment, but there is always another game, another season and a team to love.

Boy oh boy do I love baseball.
...and GO CUBBIES!! (Darn it, they deserve it!)