No rhyme, reason, or subheadings. Just a quick link dump as I watch Jair Jurrjens carve up the Pirates.
Okay, so I had one subheading. Craig Colwell, who comments here as Craig in CA and is organizing the Tigers/Giants outing, recently wrote a piece for his local paper. He said I could publish it here as well. I figured we’d could use a little reminder of how excited we were all of 3 days ago.
Hope Springs Eternal
People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.
~Rogers Hornsby ~
The last week of March, for millions of people young and old, brings forth feelings that are equal to those felt by a child counting down the last few days before Christmas. For me, two words sum up this time of year, Anticipation and Hope. The anticipation of Opening Day, and the hope that maybe this year we’ll win it all.
The baseball season is about to begin. The highs and lows of the previous season have been locked away in a closet since late last fall, otherwise they would combine to eat away at my heart and the hearts of baseball fans everywhere. Oh sure there is the occasional peak at the internet and the sports page, to see what the front office was up to. As fans we try to live normal lives during the winter months. The off-season allows our families time to forget our behavior of the previous season. We do a good job most of the time but there are those moments when you’re at the school play or out to dinner with friends when you quietly wonder why Leyland didn’t pitch Kenny Rogers in St. Louis. There is the moment when you pretend to ooh and ahh at the splendor of the Mountains on a family ski weekend, when you’re really oohing and ahhing over the prospect of Cabrerra, Ordonez, Renteria, Sheffield, Polanco, Guillen and Granderson in the same line up. Just between us, I have watched the last inning of the Tigers winning the American League Pennant in 06’ more than a few times this winter. Don’ tell my family, they’re still a little sore that I moved the Mac into the dining room so we could watch the final innings of the Tigers’ east coast games on mlb.com.
As I’ve gotten older my fanaticism is no longer only about my beloved Tigers, but about the game as a whole. Forget about the steroid scandal and the fact that that the American League uses the DH. For me baseball is about helping out with my daughters’ softball teams, hoping to foster a love of a game that has meant so much to me. It’s about loving a game that was so good to my parents in their final years when traveling and getting out on the town were no longer options. Baseball is there for you everyday from April until October. You become intimate with your home team. Baseball is theatre played out over 162 games mixing drama, comedy, and suspense. It’s getting beyond the intense hatred of the Yankees and the Red Sox and realizing that without these despised rivals the game would be diminished.
Opening day is my own personal holiday, it’s a day of hope, it’s a day of reconnection with my childhood, it’s a day to remember and honor a gift given to me by my parents, the love of baseball. For me, all the season’s past don’t combine to equal the season about to begin. You can bet that I have already blocked out the days the Tigers will be in the Bay area.