Baseball: Is There a Better Game?

The question in the title is one of rhetoric, and subjective to the person reading it. To me, and hopefully many of you, there really isn’t a better game on Earth.

My love of baseball began young, watching games on TV with my grandpa. It didn’t matter who was playing. My grandfather would watch any game. I remember seeing Pete Rose in the later parts of his career. I remember the late, great Thurman Munson  and Reggie Jackson with the Yankees, Gary Carter with the then-Montreal Expos (now Washington Nationals) and many other players. Grandpa, who passed in 1995, was notorious for mispronouncing players’ names. For one, ex-Pirates reliever Kent Tekulve was “tea-kettle”.

My Mom was also a baseball fan, and grew up as a fan of the Brooklyn Dodgers in the late 1940’s and 50’s. Of course, the Dodgers moved to Los Angeles in 1958 and have been in L.A. ever since. My step-father was a Yankees fan, and watching games with him got me turned onto the Bronx Bombers.

Baseball became a needed distraction for me as I grew into adolescence. For as much as my family enjoyed and passed on the love of the game to me, there was also much turmoil in my immediate family. Watching baseball was a welcome escape from the madness going on around me. Strat-O-Matic baseball helped chew up a lot of time when I wasn’t actually watching a game on TV. It was a source of comfort and it was reliable. It’s still my go-to when things get tough today!

As I grew into my high school years and beyond, I discovered friends (and women), graduated and got a job. Between working and having a young family, baseball took a back seat for a while. As life went on, I began to have problems with my degenerating spine. Resulting surgeries, pain and depression took hold, and I rediscovered baseball. It was a welcome distraction that once again helped me escape. Just as before, this wonderful game helped me find comfort as it did more than two decades before. The players are all different, but the game remains the same.

My son Jacob and I visited Yankee Stadium for the first time on April 19. I captured his first look at a Major League Baseball diamond.

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I’m trying to instill the love of baseball into my son, hopefully I can pass on my love of this great game to him. I won’t force it, because I’m proud of him for who he is now and for who he will be in the future.

Before I close, I want to give heartfelt thanks to everyone on Twitter who voiced their support over this past week. I was feeling particularly vulnerable, questioning if my own writing was good enough to have any kind of future. Your words mean a lot to me, and I look forward to getting back on the saddle. Thank you so much.

Charlie

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