Monday, May 19, 2008

The Church of Baseball

I've tried 'em all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the Church of Baseball.  -Annie Savoy in Bull Durham

I spent yesterday afternoon at the ballpark.  I’m as far removed from Annie Savoy as one could get, but I sometimes entertain thoughts of forgoing jeans and wearing a flirty little skirt out to the park to tempt our home team boys with my Cracker Jacks.

Did I say that?

Our little Springfield Cardys didn’t perform to expectation, but it didn’t lessen the pure excitement of being at the ballpark on a perfect Sunday afternoon.

I had the sun shining on my head, a cold beer in my hand and a bag of peanuts.

Sometimes life really is good. Sometimes you capture a moment in your mind.  A moment that despite whatever other unpleasant business is going on in your life, is perfect.  It’s a fleeting moment of pure and utter joy.

I love the crack of the bat, the seventh inning stretch, the ridiculous tricycle races and the games of musical chairs that usher you from inning to inning. I love Louie and Fetch.  I love the free t-shirts that come blasting out of that blasted cannon-even though I’ve yet to catch one.

Some argue baseball is slow.  It lacks excitement. But isn’t that perfection on a lazy spring afternoon?

Make no mistake.  Any sporting event when watched live is an adventure and an event to be savored.

I get a kick out of sitting in Chief’s stadium once a year, doing the wave, listening to the deafening crowd and having snow spit in my face.

I adore high school basketball-the smell of the gym, the squeak of tennis shoes on the floor, the whistle blowing, the buzzer blaring.  I could watch those boys run up and down the court for hours-and do.

But baseball is the sport I understand. I see what the ump should do and then bitch when he doesn’t do it.  I cry out at a foul ball.  I cry ‘foul’ when a batter wimps out and bunts instead of going for it.  I scream, “That ball was in!”

Oops-wrong sport.

You see, I get baseball, and it gets me, because I’m slow and lack excitement.

 …but I’m perfection on a lazy spring afternoon.


Erica said...

Girl, I am TOTALLY feelin' you in this post! Baseball is, undoubtedly, the greatest game there is...the only one I could watch at a sports saloon and get so wrapped up in watching my Metsies that, without even realizing it, I'll be screaming at ballplayers on the TV who can't hear me and climbing on top of the bar in euphoric excitement (Game 3 of the 2000 Subway Series leaps to mind), only to get hollered at by the bartender to get a hold of myself. Baseball, for some peeps, it's in their blood. I think I've definitely been born with that gene.

Laura said...

man, after reading this post, I felt like getting a bag of peanuts, a hotdog, and a beer to join you! Nothing like a lazy afternoon doing exactly what you want to do.