For the love of the game! My dear wonderful Paula asked me to take a break from all my “grey cloud” writings and write on something light and positive for a change although I do not believe the writings over last few weeks were that downbeat but they did deal with the serious topics involving coming out to families and the pain it causes in everyone in doing so to find the peace our souls seek. However, because I like to keep things light sometimes and to honor the request of Paula, I decided to write about my favorite sports pastime. Although sports are not usually the topic of girls I really think that is very much a stereotype. I know many genetic girls who love sports- some feverously and passionately including NASCAR and hockey (that is about as redneck and macho as one can get). Furthermore, I am comfortable with my femininity to talk sports-especially about the game I use to love to play and now in my advanced years, I love to watch- baseball.
I enjoy watching other sports but there is something about baseball that is wondorous and brings symmetry to life. It is not as fast paced or thrills a minute game as some sports like basketball or football or hockey but it’s a game I appreciate for its nuances such as the lack of a time clock, the unique design of the field and the rules and intricate nature of the game. When played well it is a thing of beauty to watch and it has its moments of sheer joy and excitement as well. Some of these I have even had the pleasure to watch in person. My son played the game and he played it exceptionally well and with much poise and grace and goodwill. I loved watching him play and now that he has finished high school and hung up his cleats for good I will miss the games on the warm spring evenings and the joy he experienced playing the game he loved and played so well for so long! I will be honest, I shed a few tears the day he took his last at bat but he held his head high!
My passion for this game began in my days of growing up in Cincinnati and the joys of seeing teams play at old Crosley Field and later Riverfront Stadium which truly sucked as a ball park but was the home to the Big Red Machine that won effortlessly in the 1970’s with players such as Tony Perez, Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench and Pete Edward Rose! I got spoiled I will admit watching this team dominate baseball for so long. The Reds were again competitive in the mid to late eighties and early nineties, winning one World Series and several pennants. Then in the middle of the nineties, just after the long players’ strike, all of the sudden my team tanked. Since 1995 they have had only one winning season. Now I promised not to get too negative in blog this week but it is hard to not be negative when it comes to the Reds and their futility. Now I don’t expect my team to win every year by any stretch of the imagination but come on…..one and only one …...one stinking winning season in 13 years! The ownership is of course to blame for this mess and the frustration of Reds fans like me have experienced. First we had Marge “We’re a small market honey” Schott as our owner- a woman who would have traded her best player for fifth of vodka and two carton cartons of smokes! She was an owner who did not even know her players names, was a Nazi loving racist and demolished our farm system of young talent and let her dog crap all over the field. What a disaster that era was for Reds fans. It was followed by an ownership by committee which works about as a well as bullpen by committee and produced some more atrocious trades and some equally bad teams. Finally, we get the Castallini era. Three years ago he buys this team and vows to make them competitive. Three years later the team has still not a winning record, he refuses to understand the game begins on the elevated set of clay and dirt in the middle of the infield known as the mound and the team is in last place and under five hundred once again. If that is his definition of “competitive” I would hate for him to only want them to be an average ball team.
The long hot “dog” days of summer are here and the fields are full of kids playing ball and some cities even have professional baseball although I am not sure Cincinnati can say that with regard to the Reds…. but get out there and appreciate the beauty of this game when it is played well. And by the way, the game is exceptionally delightful to watch with a cold beer in one hand and warm hotdog in the other whether one is a girl or a boy or anything and everything in between!
I enjoy watching other sports but there is something about baseball that is wondorous and brings symmetry to life. It is not as fast paced or thrills a minute game as some sports like basketball or football or hockey but it’s a game I appreciate for its nuances such as the lack of a time clock, the unique design of the field and the rules and intricate nature of the game. When played well it is a thing of beauty to watch and it has its moments of sheer joy and excitement as well. Some of these I have even had the pleasure to watch in person. My son played the game and he played it exceptionally well and with much poise and grace and goodwill. I loved watching him play and now that he has finished high school and hung up his cleats for good I will miss the games on the warm spring evenings and the joy he experienced playing the game he loved and played so well for so long! I will be honest, I shed a few tears the day he took his last at bat but he held his head high!
My passion for this game began in my days of growing up in Cincinnati and the joys of seeing teams play at old Crosley Field and later Riverfront Stadium which truly sucked as a ball park but was the home to the Big Red Machine that won effortlessly in the 1970’s with players such as Tony Perez, Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench and Pete Edward Rose! I got spoiled I will admit watching this team dominate baseball for so long. The Reds were again competitive in the mid to late eighties and early nineties, winning one World Series and several pennants. Then in the middle of the nineties, just after the long players’ strike, all of the sudden my team tanked. Since 1995 they have had only one winning season. Now I promised not to get too negative in blog this week but it is hard to not be negative when it comes to the Reds and their futility. Now I don’t expect my team to win every year by any stretch of the imagination but come on…..one and only one …...one stinking winning season in 13 years! The ownership is of course to blame for this mess and the frustration of Reds fans like me have experienced. First we had Marge “We’re a small market honey” Schott as our owner- a woman who would have traded her best player for fifth of vodka and two carton cartons of smokes! She was an owner who did not even know her players names, was a Nazi loving racist and demolished our farm system of young talent and let her dog crap all over the field. What a disaster that era was for Reds fans. It was followed by an ownership by committee which works about as a well as bullpen by committee and produced some more atrocious trades and some equally bad teams. Finally, we get the Castallini era. Three years ago he buys this team and vows to make them competitive. Three years later the team has still not a winning record, he refuses to understand the game begins on the elevated set of clay and dirt in the middle of the infield known as the mound and the team is in last place and under five hundred once again. If that is his definition of “competitive” I would hate for him to only want them to be an average ball team.
The long hot “dog” days of summer are here and the fields are full of kids playing ball and some cities even have professional baseball although I am not sure Cincinnati can say that with regard to the Reds…. but get out there and appreciate the beauty of this game when it is played well. And by the way, the game is exceptionally delightful to watch with a cold beer in one hand and warm hotdog in the other whether one is a girl or a boy or anything and everything in between!
Pictured above is me holding a penquin wearinga T-shirt that says Detroit Red Wings 2008 Stanley Cup Champions brought to me as a "gift" from my dear Paula. Although it pertains to another sport I enjoy watching in hockey, I am a Penquins fan and Paula is a Red Wings fan but I think she should be reported to the SPCA for inflicting cruelity on the cute, poor little formally attired bird.
No comments:
Post a Comment