Not Team News

[shoeless.db]

My dad rocked in his recliner.
Another baseball game.
He rocked in his recliner.
Every day, the same.

---

I never fell asleep with my glove growing up. I don't remember where I kept it when I wasn't using it. Was it in my closet? On my night stand? The dresser? I have no idea. I was never in love with baseball. I never watched the game in fascination and excitement. I never cheered when my team hit a home run or won the game. I never viewed professional players as gods.

I never even longed for baseball. It was always there waiting for me. In the summer, I could play baseball down at the park with the guys from the neighborhood, watch the Braves or Cubs play on TV, or play a baseball game in my head as I pitched a tennis ball against my family's front steps. During the winter, I played baseball on our Apple IIc with my notebook of stats. I had Baseball Stars on the Nintendo. I watched reruns of Home Run Derby on TV.

It was always just a game. It was just a part of life.

Which is why I struggle now when I try to add meaning to it -- when I start seeing the things in the peripheral of the game. I started peeking over my shoulder at the game, like a nervous pitcher desperately trying to hold a runner on first -- no confidence to throw over and no will to throw a pitch. Stuck. Stuck trying to find meaning in just a game.

Baseball doesn’t have memories, but I still do.

---

He rocks in his recliner.
Another baseball game.
He rocks in his recliner.
Nothing is the same.

[jleddy]

I was never in love with baseball. I never watched the game in fascination and excitement.

[HoosierVic]

This is poignant, Doug. Somehow, I suspect deep down the game still resonates with your dad.

In our family, baseball was always part of the fabric of our lives. My parents were both Cubs fans. They took me to Wrigley many, many times as I was growing up. They let me plaster my bedroom walls with posters of Ernie Banks, Ron Santo, Billy Williams, Fergie Jenkins and, well, too many others to name.

So when ESPN announcers, or whomever, make fun of fans for rooting for "laundry," it ticks me off. It's not that I root for the uniform, per se, I root for the tradition of my folks taking me to games, endlessly discussing the team over dinner, and watching Jack Brickhouse on WGN. I root for my Aunt Martha videotaping every game and making everyone promise on pain of death not to tell her the score before she could get home from work and watch. I root for the way our family used to look sideways at my Uncle Doug because he rooted for the White Sox. An American League team? Are you serious? Then he married a Cardinals fan and was nearly drummed out of the family ...

To me, at least, baseball and its rhythms and especially the team I root for means family and tradition and constancy in a world that sorely lacks it.

[shoeless.db]

My apologies. I keep editing this piece, and I wasn’t sure where to put it other than team news.

[shoeless.db]

To me, at least, baseball and its rhythms and especially the team I root for means family and tradition and constancy in a world that sorely lacks it.

That’s it. Right there. I couldn’t think to love baseball as a kid just as I couldn’t think to love my childhood or the upbringing my parents and family gave me.

Geez, I went too deep today. Back to Sai and Aarav tomorrow!

[jleddy]

To me, at least, baseball and its rhythms and especially the team I root for means family and tradition and constancy in a world that sorely lacks it.

That’s it. Right there. I couldn’t think to love baseball as a kid just as I couldn’t think to love my childhood or the upbringing my parents and family gave me.

Geez, I went too deep today. Back to Sai and Aarav tomorrow!

Deep is good. These personal pieces add so much and you're a great writer...keep it coming (but don't forget Sai and Aarav, too!)

[bschr682]

Wow

[RonCo]

Very cool. Fun read.

[Fat Nige]

I never grew up with baseball full stop

Lol