Re: Why do you love baseball?
Tossing ball in the backyard with Dad, neither of us saying anything. Just the soft plop of ball against mitt.
No clock, no time limit, just ball and mitt, bat and bases that could go on forever.
The turn of the 6-4-3, with the second baseman leaping high over a sliding runner.
The burst of speed from a runner legging out a triple, then sliding headlong into third base.
The umpire, arbiter of all things fair and just, deciding each pitch.
The toe, the stretch, the violent explosion requiring pinpoint accuracy.
The dive and throw from foul ground after a smash down the third base line to just nip the runner.
Being taught how to keep score by your grandfather.
Listening to the radio late at night, dying with each pitch. agonizing over each out.
Joe Charboneau and Joe DiMaggio.
The Iron Horse and Scrap Iron.
Rick Monday dashing away with the American flag held high.
Dick Schofield and Adam Dunn-- both capable of hitting grand slams to win games with 2 outs in the bottom of the ninth.
Stan the Man.
Jow Morgan's chicken wing.
The laser beam throw from deep right field to nail a runner trying to scamper home. Or not.
The dust. The dirt.
The spit ring around Lenny Dykstra in center field.
The joy of every young boy who runs across home plate with a run.
The Clown Prince.
Minor league stadiums, with adverstisements across the outfield fences.
Rodney McCray breaking a fence in the pursuit of a fly ball.
The Say Hey Kid.
Redemption and the goat, and the surety there's always the next pitch, the next inning, the next game, the next season.