(on Fridays around these parts, I take a little time to make sure that all the happy things happening in my life get a shout out)
I’m a baseball fan. Have been all my life. While I root for the White Sox, I’ll watch just about any game on TV, enjoying having it on in the background as I go about getting other things done.
Sure, the whole culture of the sport has changed since I was a kid, with the millions of dollars and steroids and other scandals that seem to bring down the heroes and villains alike. I’m a little jaded, but it hasn’t really diminished my love for the game.
These grown men who get to play this game – I can’t tell you how envious I am of them. As a female, this certainly was never a career I could even aspire to, but boy, how I’d love to be out there, getting to be a big kid to earn my living.
And as much as they guys have to treat it like a business, I still love to see how much the winning and losing still matters to them.
Here’s the scene: bottom of the 9th, bases loaded, David Ortiz up to bat. Tension builds. Ball one. Ball two. Ooo – perfect pitch fouled off. And then – he connects. Drives it to deep left center field and the winning run rounds third and slides safely into home. And Boston wins!
And those guys go CRAZY! Jumping up and down, hugging each other, high-5’s all around. Unadulterated exuberance and happiness. Like being a kid again.
I don’t know what it is, but that always makes my heart grow a few sizes. Knowing that even though they make millions of dollars doing this, that I would bet that many of them would play even if it didn’t make them rich.