I’ll wait for the Homer Noodleman book on non-tweet-able thoughts. Thank you.
Another baseball season is upon us.
Count me among those who believe, quite strongly, that baseball transcends the world of sport. It’s more than just a game of ingenious design, measured not by the artificial and cruel limits of a clock, but by equal opportunity. It’s more than just a symbolic renewal of springtime hope and summer frolic. It is, my friends, life.
Because just like life itself, baseball is boring. Amazingly, stupendously boring.
...Or ignore it entirely. Just like real life, you can love it or hate it. You can mentally check out or dig as deep as you want and find your own pleasures within. Want to follow a specific player? Or watch every game your favorite team plays? Want to scour the statistics of every player on every team for all of history and find order amid the chaos? There’s comfort to be found in baseball. Just as in real life, there are people who find comfort by collecting stamps or restoring old cars or learning the names of all their grandchildren.
But for most of us, baseball is just there. Sometimes we look up from our iPad solitaire game to see a great play on TV because others are cheering and we don’t want to miss something. Sometimes we go weeks without even checking the scores or standings. And sometimes we actually go to a game and get emotionally involved in the outcome, even though it doesn’t much matter. Especially if you’re a Royals fan like me.
Posted: April 06, 2012 at 09:32 AM | 1 comment(s)
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