Opening Day

For the past I don’t know how many years, I’ve observed the start of the baseball season by watching the first televised game (which traditionally was the Cincinnati Reds game, but since ESPN has taken over the broadcast, it’s that network’s team of preference, the damn Yankees) while eating a bag of salted-in-the-shell peanuts and drinking a beer (or two or three or . . .). I’ve never been an avid baseball fan, rather a casual fan. And “casual” is the perfect word to describe why I like the game – why so many others apparently don’t like the game – the relaxed pace, determined by play and not the threat of the clock, punctuated by occasional excitement, sometimes exhilarating, sometimes exasperating. You can decide how to watch a baseball game, either following intently the decisions and outcomes of each pitch or allowing the game to run as background to conversation, reading, cleaning, or driving (while listening on the radio, perhaps my favorite way of experiencing the sport). When traveling, I try to find a bar to watch whatever local team is playing, getting as near as one probably can to sampling the native culture.

So opening day 2011 is finally here. The peanut shells are on the floor. The empty beer cans are scattered about. All’s well with the world. (Though the Yankees win – damn!)