Are you like me? Do you start to get a little excited and nervous right about now, because of what is happening this weekend? No, not Valentine’s Day. Pshaw and hogwash! That’s a faux-holiday for people in love or in relationships and stuff like that, and I’m sort of a loner (until after Valentine’s Day, but that’s fodder for another post). I’m talking about pitchers and catchers reporting to spring training on Sunday.
Fuck yeah! That’s baseball, my first and truest love. Maybe that explains why I’ve always had bad relationships; I profess my deepest love for a sport:
1) …in which succeeding only three times out of ten makes you a star
2) …that starts my year with hope and dreams but almost every single time, ends with crushing defeat and a hollow feeling
3) …that drags on seemingly forever (although basketball is certainly taking this torch and running with it)
4) …that will never ever love me as much as I love it
All of those things and many more, are what baseball does to me. I didn’t cry at (either one of) my wedding(s) or when my child was born, but I cried little-bitch tears when the Angels won the WS in 2002. I’ve walked away from relationships that have treated me far better than baseball ever will, and for reasons that in comparison are pretty stupid. I’ve bought more Angels gear than I have clothes for anyone who has cohabited with me at any time. I’ve watched baseball while having sex and been more interested in the baseball. No, of course not with you, whomever is reading this! Wink wink. I’ve gotten much more excited than I should have to see my team play in a different stadium where I was traveling at the time. I’ve been late for events – and if you know me, you know that I loathe to be late for anything – so I could catch part of a game.
I may have blogged this next story before, but this shows the depths of my stupidity when it comes to baseball. In 2009 I was in Phoenix for a work-related school when the playoffs started. The Angels were facing the Red Sox, their playoff nemesis. Any long-term Angels fan can tell you about the heartache of 1986, and the continuing futility of the Angels against those despicable Sox in the playoffs. I went to Cooperstown restaurant to watch the first game of the series. I had a good feeling about this series; I knew the Angels were going to exorcise their demons this year. I was sitting at my table by myself, watching the game in the fourth inning or so. Unsolicited, a very attractive woman came up to my table and introduced herself. I took my eyes off the game long enough to notice her attractiveness. It was definitely there. She asked me what I was doing that night, and I pointed in the general direction of the TV and said “watching the game!”. I’m sure I had Angels gear on. She asked me if I knew about a concert that was happening that night, and I said that I didn’t.
She then asked me if I’d like to go to the concert with her, as she had an extra ticket.
I was truly torn. For about five seconds. I pointed to the screen and said “You know, any other night and we would already be on our way. Really we would. But this is the playoffs, and it’s the Red Sox, and I know the Angels are gonna win this year!” She gave me a smile that I’m sure was full of pity, and said she understood and walked out. Probably to pick up some other guy who had more of a clue than me, and I’m sure she gave him all the great sex I could have had. Or maybe she even picked up that guy AND a woman. Wow. In my mind, what I missed out on keeps getting better.
But yeah, that’s how much I love baseball. And probably always will.
Welcome back, babe. I missed you. Now get over here and put on something slutty that has an A with a halo on it.