I’ve mentioned before, and some have suggested ‘too frequently,’ that I am extremely fond of Our National Pastime, major league baseball. Actually and technically, just plain old baseball.
|Senator Dodd Stadium, Norwich, Connecticut|
It's the game not the level of the competition. I am not too proud to be a fevered fan of anyone on the diamond anywhere at anytime. I’ll pull over to watch youngsters in a sandlot play T-Ball and if I never find out what the score is, or becomes, that’s not terribly upsetting.
|Yankee Stadium, The Bronx, New York City|
While stationed in Greenland in the Air Force 40 years ago, I used to run the kinescopes of the black and white Games of the Week after we had signed off the AFRTS TV station on the air base at Sondrestrom. The games were often weeks old; it mattered not a jot to me.
|Fenway Park, Boston, Massachusetts|
This is the first weekend of 2016 with real Major League baseball games. No matter if your team’s season started with a victory or a defeat, take heart because we have months of strategy, singularly superlative effort, stultifyingly, stupid bone-headed base running, heroic pitching performances and great glove work at every position on the diamond before we get to post-season. Take solace in the fact that no one, not even the 1962 Mets, ever goes 0-162.
|Citi Field, Queens, New York City|
So grab a large enough bag of your favorite chips (and maybe a back-up) as well as a 55-gallon drum of your favorite dip, your favorite beverage and find someplace comfortable on the couch to watch and cheer. The game’s afoot, Watson.