I may be of the last generation for which Baseball plays such an important role. I am of the generation when World Series games were still played in the daytime and we snuck transistor radios into school to listen to the games. I’m of the generation where games were still played in places called Comiskey, and Forbes, and Crosley, and Connie Mack, and the Polo Grounds. When we’d stay up to listen to the West Coast games that started at 11pm on the East Coast as our parents yelled for us to “go to sleep”.
And so, what’s another reason I’m counting down to go home. Baseball. I miss Baseball.
It’s not that I attend a lot of games, but that I can. There’s baseball on the radio, on television. You can talk about last night’s games with people in the office, or at the supermarket.
They’re building a baseball field near my house and a minor league team is going to be moving in next year. That’s a glorious thing. Minor League baseball is a glorious thing.
When I get home, it will still be baseball season. One of the things I plan to do my first weekend home is go to a game.
But baseball isn’t as important now as it was once, and it says something about the country. It’s a different place than when I grew up. In some ways it is better, but one way it is not, is that a generation or two now is growing up who don’t appreciate baseball.