Opening Day

Today is opening day in baseball (I understand that the Yanks-Red Sox played last night, but today is the real opening day for all of baseball). Similar to the first few days of the college basketball NCAA tournament, and the beginning of college basketball season, this is one of my favorite sports time of the year. However, baseball has always carried more meaning and importance for me than simply sport. To say this is not to diminish my fandom. Baseball has always been, and remains, my favorite sport. The knowledge and history of baseball, the statistics, both old and new, the players, both old and new, have always stuck with me easier and clearer than any other information (I've often wondered how much easier college and law school would have been if my brain could remember that info like it was baseball info). I feel like I can have a somewhat intelligible discussion with a fan of any of the 30 major league ball clubs about their club, and their best players and chances for an upcoming season. Obviously, I know more about my club, the Tigers, than others; but my passion for the game means I follow the entire sport. I may spend more time watching college basketball on TV than I do watching baseball; but when it comes to time spent reading about a game/sport, time thinking and discussing, nothing comes close to baseball.

To spend this much time on something so seemingly trivial as a game is sometimes disconcerting to me; but I often remind myself that, as I said earlier, baseball has much more meaning to me than just a game. First and foremost, its significant in my relationship with my dad. My dad was my little league baseball coach growing up; the one who showed me how to hit, who gave me drills to do to make myself a better player; taught me to rub my new glove with bear grease and bake it in an oven to break it in; taught me how to throw a myriad of new pitches. He was the one who would take me to games and point out and talk about all the strategy going on behind the game. I love baseball so much, in large part, because it serves to remind me of how close of a relationship my Dad and I have. Anytime we had our ups and downs during my teenage years or beyond, anytime there was any friction between us, it was as simple to start talking about baseball to move on from whatever inconsequential thing was between us.

I struggle to find the words to truly emphasize how significant baseball is to our relationship, how meaningful. Before I got married, my Dad wanted to take a trip, just the two of us, because he figured it would be harder and harder to take such trips once I was married, and started a career and so on (and it is, life kind of works that way). So we took a road trip, to Cooperstown, to the Baseball Hall of Fame. So during spring break in my second year of law school, we headed to upstate New York. We visited the museum, we talked about our favorite players, we shared memories from baseball, we talked baseball. Something about this story sticks with me, and again, reminds me how important baseball is to our relationship.

There's more to my love of the game than just my relationship with my Dad, although I don't doubt that that is the most significant aspect of it. But baseball also allowed me to get to know my Grandpa Russ. Russ was my grandmother (on my dad's side) second husband. Both of my biological grandfathers passed away before I was born. Thus, Russ was the only grandfather I knew. For a school project once, we were supposed to interview someone who lived through the Great Depression. Both of my grandmothers were just a tad too young to truly remember the Depression, but Russ wasn't. I was comfortable talking to him; why...because we had gone to baseball games together. So, with my Dad's help, I took Russ to a ball game and "interviewed" him for my school paper. I found out he was an extraordinary man; a man who left home at 16 after his Dad died to make his own way in the world; working on tractors all the way from Montana down to Texas during the Depression years; and how he actually had a try out with the Detroit Tigers before WWII in 1939. Grandpa Russ never made that try out, he injured his pitching arm in a car accident nights before, forever ending any baseball career that he might have had. But he talked about it with no regrets, or even sorrow. I felt that such a blow would be crushing, but Russ didn't dwell on it; he still loved the game, and cheered for the Tigers for another 60 years. Through baseball, I came to understand my grandfather better than I ever would have without it.

I think what drives baseball for me is that I find its a sport that can nurture relationships, or at least did so for my relationships. It has been a rock for the relationship between my Dad and me. It served to open up so much more depth in the relationship between my grandfather and me. When I was in high school, my Dad and I went to every home game for the Class A Lansing Lugnuts. In addition to all the long talks we had (baseball, because of its slower pace than other games, really allows for good conversation), we had conversations with ballplayers on the Lugnuts who were sitting behind home plate helping the team with scouting. Through those conversations, you met young men and the dreams they had, heard stories about their determination and perseverance. And there's a part of you always rooting for them when they make it to the majors, regardless of what team they play for.

So as the season gets in full swing today, I continue to digest all these memories. I look forward to some time this summer when my Dad and I can go to a game; see that green outfield grass, the cleanness of the foul lines, hear the crack of the bat and the pop of a catcher's mitt; to debate what pitch is coming next on 2-2 count with runners on and a 1 run lead; and, in addition to the subtle beauty of the game itself, I know we will enjoy good, solid, conversation filled with depth and meaning. That's the type of special Baseball is for me. And as I listen to the radio broadcast while at work this afternoon as the Tigers take on the Kansas City Royals, I know that in all likelihood, my Dad's doing the same. I know, my Dad and I, will always have Baseball.