Passover has just ended and as some of you may know–and others may not–one of the things that happens on Passover is that the youngest child asks the Four Questions. The questions all start with: “why is this night different from all other nights?”
This year I have been thinking a lot about the baseball season. I was getting pumped for 2013 as soon as 2012 wrapped. I was more interested and in tune with the winter meetings and all the free agent signings, and I was even interested in the World Baseball Classic and Spring Training. For my entire life I cannot remember a season I was more excited about or one I spent more time gearing up for. So I asked myself, why is this year different?
My favorite team is not expected to do well this year (which is certainly not different from all other years); they had no large free agent signings and their division mates make it hard for them to be considered a possible dark horse (again, not so different), yet something is drawing me to them this year. I haven’t listened to sports radio in years, but yesterday I found myself tuning in, hoping for some discussion about the Mariners and their Opening Day win. I don’t have television in my house, but I just got MLB.tv (thank you Off The Bench) and found myself watching an Indians vs. Blue Jays game, just to see R.A. Dickey’s first taste of the AL. I’ve been to at least five games a year for the last seven years, but I am already headed to the first home game I can make it to. It’s even against the Astros and I’m planning it more than a whole week ahead.
So why am I excited? What is different this year? On the surface it seems like nothing is different at all. However, I think the difference is me. Subtle changes in my life seem to have caused major shifts in my relationship to the game. For the first time in my life, I am living with other people, not family members, who are all fans of the Mariners and like watching sports. For the first time in my life I have a career and have a direction for my future. I have also been writing for this blog for over a year now, completely as a hobby, and spent no time playing baseball myself for the first time since I was five. Basically, my life has become an adult life, with childhood fantasies of being a sports star gone for good. I am 100% fan now; there is no hope of me playing professionally; there is no aspect of baseball left for me beyond being an observer; the dream is dead.
But now there is a new dream.
My girlfriend recently asked me why I didn’t play baseball anymore, or even look into playing in an adult league. I told her it wouldn’t be the same, there is nothing to play for anymore. Baseball has lost its purpose. Yes, I could still win or lose games, I could even win or lose a league or a title, but it would be empty. There is no fame or validation in winning a league of washed up ballplayers. Playing baseball is no longer something to be proud of. This may seem like a tough, sad outlook on post-collegiate baseball, but honestly it’s really quite enjoyable–and relieving. Maybe I’m reading everything wrong, or looking at things from an skewed standpoint, but I am beginning to think that being a sports fan as a child, although great, is severely lacking in possibilities and completeness. I have not felt this excited, ready, or connected to a sports season ever.
Perhaps becoming a non-athlete is the best way to become a fan?
Of course my excitement could be due to the Mariner’s front office changing up their building strategy, and no longer going for defense, run prevention, and undervalued players. Instead they are trying to overpay home run hitters and old veterans who were once really good. Chicks aren’t the only ones who dig the long ball.
So why am I excited? Is it a new direction, or is it a new life path? A change of philosophy, or a change surroundings? Perhaps neither; maybe there is no a reason at all. But what I do know is that my life has changed, not significantly, but changed none the less. I can’t really explain what is going on, but I know change and excitement are linked. That much is true, for life as well as baseball.
-David Ringold
@dhringold
