Screw the swallows and the robins and the Easter lilies and all the dog poop that has emerged from the snow bank by the curb. The real proof that spring has sprung is the crack of a bat and the smell of overflowing urinals.
Yes, baseball season is back with the unlimited potential of a Ponzi scheme and all the hope we’ll have abandoned by the ides of August. Welcome to The Show, although the best performances won’t take place on the field.
Now that Ringling Bros. has folded its tent for the last time, the greatest show on earth is in the stands at a baseball game. When it comes to acrobats, daredevils and clowns, nothing really compares…
Cast your eyes on the life of the party, vastly over-served already, as he squeezes through the row while carrying six beers and two plates of nachos. Watch the fans flinching in the row ahead of him—distanced only in theory—as he rubs against their heads with his nether regions and showers them with Budweiser and salsa.
Applaud the veterans of the high-school show choir as they try valiantly to initiate The Wave, even though the stands are empty and the opposing team is at bat.
Marvel at the young couple staring at their cell phones as they live-stream the game and lament that there is no way to view it in 3-D.
Admire the enthusiasm of the fans who stand for the last pitch…for the first batter, and the second batter, and the third batter…while everyone behind them is forced to stand, one row after another, in order to see the damned game.
Share the optimism of noobs who leap to their feet to cheer for a homer, while everyone around them recognizes that it’s only a pop-up to short.
Honor the committed men who buy, and wear, an entire uniform with the number of their favorite player. If the team uses up all its pinch runners and pinch hitters and half the players have suffered from groin pulls, these heroes are all suited up and ready to play. Just in case.
Venerate the incredible faith of young parents who bring their toddlers to the game and expect them to just sit and watch for three hours. (Yeah, we know it works all the time with Frozen.)
Soak in the sagacity of the drunk old guy in the next row, the one with three chins and two teeth, as he explains the best strategy for winning the game. (Hint: It has to do with getting more runs than the other team.)
Respect the kidneys of the frat boys in line at the men’s room as they free up space for the three beers they just bought at last call.
Support law enforcement by cheering for the brave ushers who prevent fans from sneaking into the box seats…even though it’s the bottom of the eighth and there are only 300 people in the stadium.
Yes, the game itself is a four-minute chase scene inside a three-hour movie, but there’s non-stop thrills and giggles just off the field. Sometimes it pays to think outside the batter’s box.
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Who writes this stuff?
Dadwrites oozes from the warped mind of Michael Rosenbaum, an award-winning author who spends most of his time these days as a start-up business mentor, book coach, photographer and, mostly, a grandfather. All views are his alone, largely due to the fact that he can’t find anyone who agrees with him.