I have been religiously following the New York Yankees since the playoffs. I’m not a die-hard baseball fan. Heck, I wasn’t really a Yankees fan until recently. I even admittedly own a Boston Red Sox hat. Shock horror – I know! I liked to think of myself as Switzerland when it came to baseball, but suddenly, over the past few weeks, I find myself forming an attachment to … a bond with the Bronx Bombers.
Growing up, baseball was always on the television in my house. For years my Dad was a Mets fan, but then he got fed up with them and switched over to the pinstripe pride. But I never really grew attached to it. That is, until now.
I started getting into the game because I wanted to be a part of the conversations every morning at work, or at least be able to make an effort at pretending to know what was going on. And I figured, hey it couldn’t hurt my dating life either to know somethin’ about the sport. Another topic to add to my dating conversation repertoire. And in the midst of it all the Yankees won me over. They had me at “play ball!”
It’s an interesting game. Makes me do a lot of wondering about life in general. It excites me and confuses me and stresses the heck out of me to the point that I find myself yelling at the television. It turns me into a person I never knew I could be: a sports fan.
A few things that I’ve learned about the game and that, well, just really intrigue me:
- In the American League pitchers don’t have to bat, but in the National League they do. Ummmm, okay, but why?
- A foul is a strike, unless it’s the 3rd strike then a foul is not a strike and you can hit as many fouls as you want at that point and not strike out. Say what?
- I could probably qualify to be an umpire for Major League Baseball. Seriously, I don’t know baseball that well, but some of the calls that have been made, even I know, have been bad. Plus I think it would be cool to make those wacky hand motions and say “steeerrrriiike!”
- Most, if not all baseball players, have nice derrieres. Pants-‘aint-gonna-fall-off-that kind of back ends. I like it. I like it a lot. What’s the secret to the bountiful baseball buttocks?
- Baseball players spit. They ALL spit. Even the umpires spit. They spit if they chew tobacco. They spit if they chew gum. They spit if they don’t chew anything at all. It comes out of their mouths like geysers. I am mesmerized by this! Is there a reason for it? Do they do it in their everyday lives or just on the field? Are they born with the talent or is it taught at spring training? Is there a spitting coach?
Yes, being a (newish) baseball fan is a very exciting and educational experience, and I feel it’s my duty to selflessly share it with the world (or at least the people who stumble upon my blog). There are just so many mysteries to explore, life lessons to learn and men to observe.
So until next time boys and girls … that is this (newish) baseball fan’s perspective on the beloved game.