Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...


Take Me Out...

I love baseball. I love hard-nosed, get-your-uniform-dirty, don't-step-on-the-foul-lines baseball. I love the gritty dirt you get stuck between your toes from taking several extra buckets of grounders at short, the quick flinches from the guys in the dugout when you cup-check 'em, the nose-wrinkling, skunk-rivaling smells of practice jerseys, and the eager anticipation of breaking in a new glove - just to get it feeling all beat up and soft and wrinkly like the old one your mom made you throw away...but hid under your bed instead. I love the nicknames (my high school had Goat Boy, Toilet Boy, and Ducky, to name a few), the ridiculous stories behind the nicknames (don't ask about mine), the chatter between innings, the unspoken ethics of the game, and a crisp, clean, 6-4-3 inning-ending double play...with the bases loaded. I love watching a catcher strap on his gear like he's strapping on his armor, the understood isolation a starting pitcher gets on gameday, the games of cat and mouse between the infielders and baserunners, and rally caps. *Sigh*...I love baseball. I've got a sneaky feeling that these guys do, too ;)

posted by Bolo | 1:52 PM
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