Today is opening day for professional Baseball. It warms the cockles of my lil black heart. I now have the ability to escape politics when I am ready to tear out my hair in large patches, much to the consternation of the Ball n’ Chain™.
I know that lots and lots of libruls don’t like professional sports.
Too fucking bad, you have no clue as to what your missing. Sports are a way to experience all the emotions we have, but we are not part of the game..so nothing is on the line for the fan. Yet tomorrow is another day, new games are played and hope once again emerges on the horizon.
Of course if you happen to be a fan of one of the really stinky, lousy teams..you are pretty much depressed during the entire season. I know this feeling well as I am a loyal fan of The Padres since…hell, I dunno when. As a former resident of Beantown, actually having lived in the Fenway (the neighborhood, not the ballpark), I root for the Red Sawx too.
Going to the game vs watching it on the boob tube are vastly different experiences and offer different pluses and minuses. The first one, attending a game, costs major bucks to these days, while the second one affords us the option of turning off the channel when the game is out of reach for the home team. But I love going to a game, I wish I lived closer to Hell-A only because I wouldn’t mind watching the Ball n’ Chain’s™ favorite team, Los Dodgers, up close and personal once in a while. But the telly is fine..and with that, m'dear reader..
I bid you adieu as the first pitch has been thrown and thank dog it isn’t George Bush doing it again.
Graphic by Hamblin-Original seats in Fenway Park.
