Baseball Time

    I am typing this post as I look out at the snow coming down in the frigid air, and I am reminded of Rogers Hornsby and his famous quote, "People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring." Many of us have been waiting for several months, proverbially staring out windows, waiting for the day to come where we would have baseball again.
    That day is here! As of today, every MLB team has seen their respective pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training. In a few more days, position players will report and the first few scrimmages will begin in earnest. While I will be unable to travel to either Florida or Arizona for Spring Training, I am content with the thought that I can wake up tomorrow and begin to see pictures of players throwing, running, or talking with fans. Many people wax eloquently about the magic of Spring Training, and I am not going to be able to top such loquaciousness, but I want to offer my meager thoughts on the excitement that permeates my being as I consider the upcoming season.

     People often talk about the romantic and nostalgic nature of baseball. While many decry the slow pace or the steroid problem, I can fully support Billy Beane (well, Brad Pitt) in the movie 'Moneyball' when he says, "How can you not be romantic about baseball?" The taste of the first ballpark hot dog of the year. The pop of the glove as you catch and throw the ball around with friends. The first sight of the green, manicured grass as you enter a stadium and see the field. The joy that is shared when memories are made while watching a game with a father and son, a grandfather and grandson, a group of friends, or a couple. The heartwarming stories of players and fans. The incredible events that happen in a game, such as the last day of the regular season last year. Watch the embedded video and tell me you do not get chills.
      Stop and think about it. How has baseball affected your life? For me, it was learning to play the game at a young age. I can vividly remember collecting cards, buying new gloves, and playing in All-Star tournaments. While I learned a lot skill-wise, I ended up learning more about handling disappointments, being a teammate, and how to deal with adversity. My father and I bonded over the long evenings outside- him catching as I struggled learning to pitch, trying to perfect my swing as he threw to me, and going to Orioles games together. He coached many of my teams, came to all of my All-Star games, and shared the happy and sad moments alike. Hearing his stories of his time as a pitcher at Duke drove me to be more like him. He read baseball stories to me, and then gave me baseball history books when I could read on my own. While neither of us play anymore, I can honestly say that I have a deep relationship with him that is based, at least somewhat, on our common interest in the game.
       I think that is the secret behind baseball; it teaches us about life and builds relationships. Its why I spend hours reading about sabermetrics. Its why I stay up late in the fall to watch postseason baseball. Its why I look forward to another exciting baseball season.