My Love Affair With Baseball

Baseball is my addiction. I can't get enough. I'm a Detroit Tigers fan by birth, and a New York Yankees hater by good common sense. As such, I tend to root for the Red Sox as well when they aren't playing the Tigers, just because I know it pisses off Yankees fans. With baseball, I love the sport more than I love any particular team. I just love watching the game. I love that there isn't a clock, that a pitcher can't just slow down the game and wait things out for a win. He has to pitch strikes and he has to get outs. I love the thought of one batter against nine fielders, and the fact that the batter wins around 30% of the time (if he's good) despite those odds. I love going to a game in the summer, eating a hot dog and drinking a beer, all those cheesy cliches. I love Buck O'Neill, Peter Gammons, Ken Burns, and anyone else whose passion for the game is indefatigable. I love that my son is so passionate about little league, and every once in awhile tells me he wants to play baseball in the majors when he gets older (and even if he changes his mind, at least I'll have someone to watch the games with me when I get older). I love baseball.

My grandfather took me to my first Tigers game at old Tiger Stadium. They played the California Angels. This was in 1988. My favorite player at the time was Matt Nokes. He was coming off an All Star season in '87, in which batted close to .300 and had 32 home runs. I still remember this. I latched on to him like all kids do who love sports. You find that one athlete and he becomes your hero for a year, two years, however long you need as a burgeoning fan of the game. I watched Nokes go 0-4 that day, flying out to center three times. None were close to going yard, but every time the ball came off his bat I jumped out of my seat. My disappointment that day was equal to his disappointing career post-1987. When we traded him to the Yankees in 1990 I was crushed. I hated the Yankees even then, and here was my favorite player wearing pinstripes. I was well aware that he wasn't very good anymore, that he wasn't really performing anymore, but it still hurt. My pain was eased by Cecil Fielder. 51 home runs will do that for you. Still, I was taught a tough lesson about favorite athletes.

Problem was that lesson didn't stick. Right now I have an unhealthy obsession with Curtis Granderson and Henrik Zetterburg. Both play their respective games the way I love to watch and athlete play. They play their hearts out on both ends, and they conduct themselves with class and respect. Both are young, both are extremely talented, and both would rip my heart out if they left to play for another team. I worry more about Zetterburg than Granderson, because of the salary cap in hockey and the amount of talent on the Red Wings. Either way, I'm setting myself up for heartbreak again. But I digress.

Some complain that baseball is headed in a bad direction, with rising salaries and dominant large-market teams. I think there's something to that, and at times it bothers me too. Some complain that the game is too slow. I can't get behind that at all. Putting time limits on pitchers at the mound is absurd. Watching a pitcher go through his routine, watching him hit his spots, dancing around the strike zone, trying not to make a mistake, is too beautiful a thing to tamper with. There's nothing quite like watching a pitcher smoke his fastball on the outside corner and just freeze the batter, or drop a breaking ball right over the plate, buckling the knees of his opposition. Some say it's become to reliant on the home run, and while a part of me wants to agree, there's no feeling quite like watching the ball connect with the bat and knowing, even at home watching on my TV, before the camera ever tracks the outfielders, that it's going over the fence.

Baseball, despite its flaws, will always be the greatest sport. It's intoxicating for the reasons I mentioned and so many more. Sure, steroids hurt, but if you think they aren't rampant in other sports you're crazy. It's a part of life. There were spitballs and spikes and stealing signs long before steroids showed up, and whatever shows up in the future that will give players or teams an edge on the competition, legal or not, will always come into play. I cheated in high school. I copied other student's work and plagurized at times, all to pass classes and get my diploma. Who am I to act holier than thou and pretend athletes wouldn't do the same to make it in their chosen profession? Do I want it to happen? No. In an ideal world it would be a fair playing field and everyone would show up only with their god-given talent and play their hearts out. But this isn't an ideal world, and I didn't know a thing about poetry in high school (I still don't). Such is life.

So here it is, not even February yet, and I'm already salivating for the next season to begin. As we get closer, I'll get more in-depth with my thoughts on the Tigers (this year and in years past). I'll tune into the World Baseball Classic, because it's baseball (though I'm really disappointed with the amount of U.S. athletes who are passing up playing, probably because I'd love it to succeed and give me something else relevant to watch). I play fantasy baseball too, so I'll be back to comment on my team after I draft (and by comment I mean complain). So, expect a lot more baseball in the coming months. Heck, expect it year round. I love baseball.