So far today I have:
Run a Google search for Pitcher/Catcher Reporting Dates for 2008 (nothing yet, of course), watched the video previews for several new ball parks (awesome!), read some stuff about the Indians/Sox game that I missed last night but will watch tonight on-demand, read reviews of the baseball book I'm reading that got me totally misty, read through and shared with some friends the Today in Baseball History entries from today and yesterday (today: Mets lose game 7 of the 2006 NLCS; Yesterday, Reggie Jackson hits three home-runs in the 1977 WS), and stared with wistful longing for several minutes at the photo of Shea Stadium hanging over my desk.
Last night was my birthday party at the club where I DJ every week. Last year I told the owner of the club that he had to show the Mets/Cardinals game on the video screen that night or I wouldn't come to the party. It was Game 7. When it was over there was a drunk girl in the corner (not me) sobbing. I'll confess to being equally distraught, though minus the visible and audible accompaniments that this other girl was indulging herself in. I arrived at work the following morning, hungover and more than a little discombubulated since the sudden and tragic loss of the NLCS only a few hours earlier, to find it surprisingly quiet around my desk. Later my co-workers told me they were avoiding me, knowing that I'd be upset about the game. I remember thinking how silly that was because I'm really not like that, not prone to being meaningfully effected by baseball, of course. How very silly of them! That evening, I took the subway into Midtown Manhattan from my office in Downtown Brooklyn, up to the Mets Clubhouse Shop on 42nd street to buy the necklace I'd posted about a few weeks ago, the one I'd seen previously at the shop, but which was gone now, so I had to go home and order it online. It's the Mets logo necklace that I wear every day, all year long, yeah, that one. So that was one year ago today, huh?
Also today I read the following passage in that book review I'd mentioned earlier:
"Baseball," Giamtti writes, "fulfills the promise that America made to itself to cherish the individual while recognizing the overarching claims of the group. It sends its players out (around the bases) in order to return again, allowing all the freedom to accomplish great things in a dangerous world. So baseball restates a version of America's promises every time it is played. The playing of the game is a restatement of the promises that we can all be free, that all succeed."
That was the one that I got misty over. Maybe I am like that after all.
Boy, I sure did have a lot of baseball fun this year.
Boy, I sure do miss baseball.*
How can I miss something when it's not even gone yet? And more importantly, what the hell have I gotten myself into with this whole baseball thing, anyway? :sigh: This is really not how I saw my life panning out... I used to be a normal girl, slightly tom-boyish, but still darned girlie for the most part. And I'm not some kind of social misfit, or anything like that... I'm popular! And kinda' cute, too. What the hell, man?? I'll tell you, I really did not see this coming... If you would have told me 6 or 7 years ago that I'd ever care even a little about baseball I would have laughed at you, and now look at me.
But alright, so there it is. Baseball on my walls, on my television, on my reading list, my dvd player, on my coffee table, and on a chain around my neck. I'm writing a long, long paper about what? Yes, baseball. It's a manifesto, really, coming soon as installments to this weblog of mine. I'm also starting that media empire I'd hinted at a couple of months ago, which is, of course, a baseball thing, too.
All right Winter, I'm ready for you. Do your worst.
And as for you, Baseball... well, I've decided to keep you around during the off-season. Again. Ha, like I have a choice in the matter.
*Yes, I realize that baseball isn't over yet, you know what I mean, wise-guy(s).