Why I Love Baseball
When Matsui hit the two run single in the 3rd to put the Yankees up 4-1, I knew it was over. I wouldn't say it, didn't want to jinx it, but the game just had that feel.
Inevitable.
And as the series drew closer and closer to the end, the restaurant I was in getting louder and louder, I started to think about how much I love baseball, in good Yankees seasons and bad.
The baseball playoffs, to me, are like a great noir thriller. Each series is a slow burn that builds over nine innings and then (with 2 off days) nine days. Each move is dissected, talked about, twisted. Each pitch, each moment builds on the last until you're so exhausted you don't even want to watch anymore. The games go on forever, killing your nerves and your ability to sleep. By the end of October (or early November) you've got dark circles under your eyes and are either ecstatic or depressed.
People talk about the game being too slow, but that's part of what makes it great. It's the perfect game to talk about. You can guess what's going to happen next. You can play each scenario out in your mind, picture a double off the wall or a strike out on a slider in the dirt. Or even worse, the dreaded double play.
There are heroes (for me Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera over the years) and villains (David Ortiz, Vlad Guerrero, Cliff Lee... midges) and morally conflicted players (A Rod... love him or hate him?). I'm even catching some flak this morning, because I'm superstitious... I picked against the Yankees each round, in old reverse jinx fashion. I couldn't admit it then, and no one believes me now.
And the best thing about baseball? It's perpetual.
Last night, the ball had barely smacked Teixiera's glove, we had barely high fived, when the conversation switched to next year. The GM meetings are on Monday.
How would the Red Sox respond? They clearly had an off year. Were they already calling Toronto to get Halladay?
The Mets had many questions marks. Would they try and sign Holliday and Lackey? They would be better if they did.
And yes, we even talked about the Yankees. Could they let Matsui walk? Would they bring back Damon or try and go out to get another starter?
You can't do that with any other sport. You can't break down football this way. There isn't a hot stove football season and the games are once a week. College basketball is my other favorite sport, but it can only last so long and only interest so many people. Only die hards care about recruiting.
But baseball. In the Northeast, you can talk about baseball to anyone. You can discuss the weakness in a bullpen for hours and few people will look at you funny. You can trash a manager, celebrate a player, hate a team, love a team, and complain about payroll for hours.
From April to October, I become a sports talk radio junkie. I can't turn it off. I listen to all the idiot callers saying that trading Melky Cabrera for Roy Halladay is a fair deal. That Girardi should have pitched Chad Gaudin in Game 5. That Mariano Rivera should pitch 3 innings in Game 6.
I know this post can seem obnoxious. The Yankees just won. The Yankees always win. The Yankees and recently the Red Sox are the national villains. Everyone hates them. And what makes something great? Great villains.
I could have written this post last year. I could have written this post any year over the last 8, when the Yankees blew it.
The pain is fun. The joy is even better.
I can't wait until the rumor mill starts up again.
Go Yankees, 2009 World Champions.
Inevitable.
And as the series drew closer and closer to the end, the restaurant I was in getting louder and louder, I started to think about how much I love baseball, in good Yankees seasons and bad.
The baseball playoffs, to me, are like a great noir thriller. Each series is a slow burn that builds over nine innings and then (with 2 off days) nine days. Each move is dissected, talked about, twisted. Each pitch, each moment builds on the last until you're so exhausted you don't even want to watch anymore. The games go on forever, killing your nerves and your ability to sleep. By the end of October (or early November) you've got dark circles under your eyes and are either ecstatic or depressed.
People talk about the game being too slow, but that's part of what makes it great. It's the perfect game to talk about. You can guess what's going to happen next. You can play each scenario out in your mind, picture a double off the wall or a strike out on a slider in the dirt. Or even worse, the dreaded double play.
There are heroes (for me Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera over the years) and villains (David Ortiz, Vlad Guerrero, Cliff Lee... midges) and morally conflicted players (A Rod... love him or hate him?). I'm even catching some flak this morning, because I'm superstitious... I picked against the Yankees each round, in old reverse jinx fashion. I couldn't admit it then, and no one believes me now.
And the best thing about baseball? It's perpetual.
Last night, the ball had barely smacked Teixiera's glove, we had barely high fived, when the conversation switched to next year. The GM meetings are on Monday.
How would the Red Sox respond? They clearly had an off year. Were they already calling Toronto to get Halladay?
The Mets had many questions marks. Would they try and sign Holliday and Lackey? They would be better if they did.
And yes, we even talked about the Yankees. Could they let Matsui walk? Would they bring back Damon or try and go out to get another starter?
You can't do that with any other sport. You can't break down football this way. There isn't a hot stove football season and the games are once a week. College basketball is my other favorite sport, but it can only last so long and only interest so many people. Only die hards care about recruiting.
But baseball. In the Northeast, you can talk about baseball to anyone. You can discuss the weakness in a bullpen for hours and few people will look at you funny. You can trash a manager, celebrate a player, hate a team, love a team, and complain about payroll for hours.
From April to October, I become a sports talk radio junkie. I can't turn it off. I listen to all the idiot callers saying that trading Melky Cabrera for Roy Halladay is a fair deal. That Girardi should have pitched Chad Gaudin in Game 5. That Mariano Rivera should pitch 3 innings in Game 6.
I know this post can seem obnoxious. The Yankees just won. The Yankees always win. The Yankees and recently the Red Sox are the national villains. Everyone hates them. And what makes something great? Great villains.
I could have written this post last year. I could have written this post any year over the last 8, when the Yankees blew it.
The pain is fun. The joy is even better.
I can't wait until the rumor mill starts up again.
Go Yankees, 2009 World Champions.
Labels: A Rod, Baseball, Hot Stove Baseball, New York Yankees, Playoffs, Yankees
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posted by Dave White at 9:51 AM
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