Here we go...the beginning of April, the beginning of another season of baseball, the sport that now rivals football in my heart. I love almost everything about baseball. I love that it's a half-hour away - if you're bored on a summer evening (and you actually have the time, which is something different entirely) then you can hop over to the Coliseum and watch the game for a few bucks. I love that during the season there's always something to talk about, and more often than not there's a game on. I love the battle between pitcher and batter - and sometimes between pitcher and catcher, deciding whether to throw the high heat and blow it past them or trick em with a curve ball. I love the glimmer of hope in a two-out rally, the crushing despair of watching one fall short, and the utter elation of a walk-off hit. I love the marathon - that even if your team blows it for a week they can come back and make a run of it. I love the hope of Opening Day, when every team is 0-0 and even the Devil Rays can lead the Yankees in the standings.
Baseball is freakin sweet, and it's on again. Tonight the A's play the Yankees - provided the game isn't rained out. Due to school I won't be able to attend tonight's game, but because of the generosity of one Julia Walker, I'll be sitting field-level tomorrow night to watch Rich Harden torch the Evil Empire. It'll be cold, it'll probably be rainy - but I don't care. Bring on the Big Dogs, bring on the trash talking, and bring on the unadulterated elation and devastating disappointment that is baseball.