A Sense of Doubt blog post #1347 - Goodbye Baseball; See You Next Year

https://www.wlwt.com/article/boston-red-sox-win-world-series-against-la-dodgers/24380145

A Sense of Doubt blog post #1347 - Goodbye Baseball; See You Next Year

Me with Billy Butler's BBQ sauce;
he was not a Detroit Tiger, hence my face; I still
have the bottle, unopened from five years ago.
Open it or not? Is it good?

This is always a sad day for me: the first day with no Baseball and none coming the next day. You know, in case it was the day off between games.

I love Baseball. I love its cadence and rhythms. I love it's quiet and contemplative flow. I love its statistics and the analysis of those that tell new and perspicacious stories about player performance.

And I love its history most of all: an intermingling of games, teams, series, winners, losers, colorful personalities all interwoven the ebb and flow of American history and its wars, Hydrogen Bombs, and Watergates. I love its names, like Satchel, Honus, Mookie, Aurelio, Gates, Bucky, Kirby, Addison, and Harmon Killebrew (one of the all time great Baseball names).

And I love my teams: the Detroit Tigers and the Chicago Cubs. Sometimes they win, and sometimes they lose, and sometimes it rains. Yes, that's a run-on.

I didn't really care who won the World Series this year. I could have made an argument for either team. The Dodgers had the longer drought and had fallen short last year in an effort so forgettable that while drinking beers with friends just two months later (not even two full months), I had quite forgotten that the Astros beat them. I could also cheer the Red Sox, though typically I do not want the team with the best record in the regular season to win the championship, unless it's one of my teams. But I know more people who love the Red Sox than the Dodgers, so maybe, I could see them win even though it would be (and now is) the team's fourth since 2004 after a REALLY long drought of 86 years. Kind of like the Cubs, who won in 2016 after 108 years. I like these facts.

I liked both of these teams well enough, the personalities, the beards, the underdog mid-season free agent (Pearce), the new stud rookie pitcher (Walker Buehler, another great Baseball name), and the two managers, one a first timer, both from "perceived" minorities, but really from the majority player heritage of the major leagues. Thank you Latin America, Mexico, Cuba, and South America.

Did I mention that I adore JUSTIN VERLANDER, like so many of my favorite pitchers before him like Greg Maddux, Sandy Koufax, Tom Seaver, Nolan Ryan, Kerry Wood, Dan Petry, Milt Wilcox, Mickey Lolich, Gaylord Perry, Satchel Paige, and Bob Gibson.

Loving Baseball is like loving my childhood, and I see other people love it for that same reason.

For me, it always conjures those memories of those warm summers before we had air conditioners blasting away and droning out the night noise, the sound of Ernie Harwell's voice through the handheld transistor radio next to my pillow mixed with cicadas and the clatter of dishes being stack as they were dried out in the kitchen. Those sounds lulled me to sleep, and I will be forever grateful for the sweet music I remember and the sweeter dreams they evoked.

But mostly, I am sad because even though Baseball starts in the spring when there's often still snow on the ground and ends in the middle fall when the trees are denuded and the cold air and rains are soaking down the earth and making ready for frosts and pogonips, even though Baseball runs from the end of March to the end of October, it means summer to me, and so when it comes to its fruition with grown men jumping on top of each other like little boys and then dousing each other with beer and champagne, its sad not just because I will miss my near daily dose of Baseball to listen to or watch, but it's the death knell of summer, even though the first day of Fall was over a month ago. I cling to summer. I wear shorts instead of long pants until I practically chattering with the cold. I don't want it to end. I never want it to end.

And now, I have to wait for it all to start over again. I have to wait through days that grow shorter and shorter and darker and darker, wait, not all that patiently, until Baseball stretches out those days like the muscles of its batters and runners and fielders and brings the light back to us again, bright, hopeful, and full of promise for the long, lazy days of summer until one group of men can win it all again.

1984 Detroit Tigers - possibly my favorite team ever, though it's tough to choose

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- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1810.29 - 10:10

- Days ago = 1213 days ago

- New note - On 1807.06, I ceased daily transmission of my Hey Mom feature after three years of daily conversations. I plan to continue Hey Mom posts at least twice per week but will continue to post the days since ("Days Ago") count on my blog each day. The blog entry numbering in the title has changed to reflect total Sense of Doubt posts since I began the blog on 0705.04, which include Hey Mom posts, Daily Bowie posts, and Sense of Doubt posts. Hey Mom posts will still be numbered sequentially. New Hey Mom posts will use the same format as all the other Hey Mom posts; all other posts will feature this format seen here.