Since it's now summer, and the outcry from the readers has gone on long enough (ha!), I decided to write the second half of my Spring and Sports article. If you haven't read the first half, feel free to do so by clicking here.
Before beginning, I ate a little. My meal consisted of a Starbucks vanilla frappuccino, popcorn, Lipton raspberry iced tea, and three of those peanut butter on cracker sandwiches (the ones with the day-glo orange crackers). Strangely, I enjoyed it all quite a bit.
As I begin to write, my mood is better, thanks in part to playing
some Word Racer and hearing a soccer announcer yell, "Boom-shakalaka!"
So here goes.
One interesting aspect of spring is the reemergence of all
the plants as they begin to bloom again. Nothing signals spring for
me quite like the reappearance of my favorite springtime plant (you
guessed it): Astroturf.
Astroturf means Twins baseball is beginning, which means
baseball itself is starting up again, and that means good times.
With opening day occurring virtually simultaneously with the end of the
NCAA basketball tournament, the excitement level doesn't even have time to
dip back to normal. This is more proof that Spring is the most
exciting and enjoyable time in the world of sports.
I know that right now some of you might be thinking to
yourself, in a Mora-esque fashion, "Baseball!? Baseball!?
Are you kidding me!?...Baseball!?" But don't get alarmed, I
know baseball has it's problems. In fact I'm starting to wonder if
the players, owners, and the commissioner all get together during the
offseason and figure out how they can best alienate all of the fans.
The meeting would go something like this:
Commissioner: What have you owners got for me
this year?
Owners Representative: Well mostly the same
stuff as last year. You know, raise ticket prices, threaten to move
the teams, and get tax payers to fund new stadiums.
Commissioner: Not bad. And how about
you players?
Players Representative: Well we can continue
to ask for more money, complain that we are underpaid and get no respect,
remain aloof toward all the fans, and pump ourselves so full of steroids
that our testicles will actually cease to exist.
Owners: Well done. We'll be happy to
pay you those obscene salaries. And good luck with the testicle
thing.
Commissioner: Well, I'm afraid I've outdone
you all this offseason. Baseball will now undergo, or at least
threaten to undergo...Contraction!
Owners: Genius! Nice work.
Players: This won't get in the way of that
whole strike/lockout thing we've got going with the owners will it?
Commissioner: No you can still do that.
Players and Owners (in unison): Sweet.
Then they all go home happy because not only will no one
want to follow baseball, but many will be financially unable to take their
families to games.
But despite all of the problems, springtime baseball
remains a classic piece of Americana. It's right next to apple pie,
Norman Rockwell paintings, and Price Is Right contestants consulting the
audience before each and every move.
Actually, baseball can be enjoyable all season, but it is
especially fun in the Spring. The optimistic feeling of the season
permeates into the beginning of the baseball season. It's a clean
slate. Hopes are high. "This could be our year!" is
a common sentiment. As an added bonus, opening day 2002 featured a
special, "Look, our team still exists" feeling for us Twins
fans.
Amid all this excitement, baseball's problems take a back
seat to the fun of the new season. So, for a moment, you don't focus
on things like contraction, labor issues, or the fact that the skinny, 150
pound shortstop from last year is now so juiced up that you mistake him
for Bald Bull. You simply focus on the game you've grown to enjoy so
much over the years.
Throw in the fresh-looking uniforms, the not-yet green
walls of Wrigley, the memories of past seasons, all of your own game day
rituals, the singing of The Star Spangled Banner and Take Me Out to the
Ballgame, stadium hot dogs, malt cups, the familiar voices of the play by
play and PA announcers and suddenly you have an almost overwhelming urge
to break out into an impression of James Earl Jones in Field of Dreams.
Or even an impression of Harold Reynolds as James Earl Jones.
"It's part of our past, Ray."
- Jon might buy a new pair of sandals soon.