baseball is love

The other sports are just sports. Baseball is a love.

Those that know me know that there are very few things in this life that I do at a high rate of speed. Some years ago there was a hurricane named Hurricane Nate to which a friend replied, "Don't you mean Glacier Nate?" Touche.

Baseball, of course, is not a game of speed. It is a game of nuances and the unseen. To sit and simply watch is to miss the point. It is a game to be absorbed and appreciated under the glare of the summer sun. Kids play it and adults who still wish they were kids play it.

Growing up, I can remember pouring over the stats in the Saturday paper until I had most of them memorized. And Sundays were for popcorn and scoring the Blue Jay game on TV. These days I drive by parks at night and see them lit up and, like a moth to a flame, I rubberneck. Baseball stadiums are my Disney World.

I have been to the cathedrals of the sport - Cooperstown, Wrigley Field, Yankee Stadium, and Fenway Park - and didn't care if I ever came back. I walk out of the tunnel to my seat be it right next to the action or off in the far reaches of the park and stand in awe. Field of Dreams, my favourite movie, so eloquently represents this. Undeterred by all those around him who suggest he is certifiably nuts, Kevin Costner watches a cornfield full of his heroes play a game no one else sees. And that's what keeps me coming back for more. Whether it's a professional who makes you say, "how'd they do that?" or the Little Leaguer standing on first who just drove in the winning run and you're smiling right along with them. Each time it's something new.

Everybody has their passions - mine just happens to be a game.