Every sport has moments of receiving undivided attention from its fans. We can usually assume this attention is most aptly given on opening day of a new season. For college football, it's late August. The NFL, it's early September, NBA it's late October and so on. But let me focus on baseball for a moment.
Each new baseball season I make a promise to myself: This is the year when I will follow baseball from April to October, no exceptions. April begins, and I watch eagerly as the first televised contest of the season takes place. The uniforms, the well-manicured field, the distinct noise of wood colliding with the ball, all give me confidence this is going to be the season when my baseball stamina reaches its pinnacle. April, May, and June pass. I am usually on pace, if not exceeding my expectations to fulfill the promise. Aside from paying close attention to MLB standings, I have every relevant pithcer's ERA memorized, a list of batting averages compiled on hand just in case a coworker, friend, or family member wants to discuss possible batting-title candidates. I scour for information on my favorite team's Triple-AAA, Double-AA, and even Single-A affiliate, hoping to discover the next young player who'll be wearing a big league uniform. I watch Saturday baseball, feast on boxscore updates online, try unsuccessfully to convince my wife to pay for XM radio just to hear my team's radio broadcasts. I am so engrossed those first three months that I'm convinced if you give me the whispering voice, I'll be ready to build it. And then hits July.
Ironically, July would seem the month when baseball is most easily followed. The NBA playoffs were just completed along with the draft and training camp for football is still a month away. Yet, despite baseball standing alone in July as the only major sport playing relevant games, that's when my interest most wanes. It has nothing to do with the game itself, that will never be the problem. But there's something depressing about the fact that after three months of rigorous dedication, pouring myself over meaningless statistics, July 1 hits, and I realize, there are still 80 games left to play and another four months of baseball to follow.
It's reminiscent of the time I broke down and decided to humor my wife with an episode of the Bachelorette. Because of the rarity of the moment I promised to be on my best behavior. That meant no rolling of the eyes, no mock laughter, keeping my eyes steady and concentrated when witnessing an emotional or romantic display. For dramatic effect, I even practiced my best ooooooh! for when a soft kiss or gentle rub of the cheek took place. With these pre-determined rules in place, I readied myself for the beginning of the show. At first, I felt a bit uncomfortable. Without any mannerisms to display my emotional disgust, how was I to reaffirm any masculinity I possessed to myself? To my wife? To other men? Then I got roped in. I couldn't believe Trent would give his kidney to an ailing niece. How could my Bachelorette deny such kindness? Plus, did you see Kevin's family? A bunch of kooks, if you ask me. No one would dare marry into that family, would they? Or wouldn't they? Bachelorette did seem a bit on the wild side. A few minutes passed, which meant a commercial break. The network showed a clip of things to come and to my horror, I discovered my Trent and the despised Kevin were only two of eight other men vying for the heart of Bachelorette. Which meant another six weeks to see if Trent was the one. I had been betrayed. How was I supposed to attach myself emotionally to eight other men? Wait, something doesn't sound right in that sentence. Point is, one week of Bachelorette appeasement I could handle. Maybe even enjoy. But another six weeks? That's impossible. This man just isn't wired that way.
And so it goes with baseball. I do love it. The game has a purity few can match, but even this sports-obsessed fan can't stay tuned for a full season. And it's all July's fault. Or a ridiculously long season's. My advice to those seeking baseball longevity closure: Wait until October. Then you have only two teams to follow. And chances are the one team you've committed yourself to emotionally, physically (and to some of you even spiritually) all season, won't be in a position to betray you in the end.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
July Baseball
Posted by Domer Agnus at 7:09 AM 2 comments
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