Santana no hitter, my love for baseball, fav movie quotes

06/02/2012

I’ve been up for 20 hours. I’m tired, I’m emotionally drained and I feel like writing.

People know that I love baseball. Everyone knows it. People who I have not talked to in 10, 20 years, they remember that I love baseball and ask me “how many ggames have you been to this year” However, people don’t understand it from my view. It’s not just my Boston Red Sox. It’s the sport of baseball. I was reminded of my own passion for baseball this evening as teers were freely flowing down my face as I was listening to Johan Santana, a pitcher for the New York Mets, pitch the first no hitter in the 50 years of the Met’s franchize.

Today I made myself P+J sandwiches for lunch. I went through my sports channels on the tv in the kitchen to see what I could listen to while eating. You know what I ended up listening to? The women’s college world series of soft ball. It was great. There was still a bat. There is still a ball. There is a diamond and 9 defensive players. They can call it soft ball. They may have a few different rules but it was still baseball to me.

I enjoy other sports but you know what I cant do with other sports that I can with baseball? VISUALIZE IT. I can visualize every moment of every baseball game by the announcers. You cant do that with any other sport. You can try but it just doesn’t work.

Baseball is also like me.
Quiet, calm, doesn’t say much but always thinking.
And then BOOM! A LONG FLY BALL TO DEEP RIGHT FIELD! IT’S GOING! IT’s GOING! IT’S GONE!
(I bet you could picture that?)

As I wrote in a poem once upon a time (well, the day after the 1998 world series to be specific) baseball is for everyone. No matter race, height, gender, ability or disability. “If you can pitch a ball or swing a bat then somewhere between the white lines, there is a place for you”

As I was sitting there in my room tonight, in my big office chair, facing my radeo, with my hands squeezing my knees, leaning forward, with my heart pounding waiting to hear the next pitch, waiting to see if Johan Santana will get the batter out, THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE IN THIS WORLD. NOTHING!!! It was me, seeing in my mind, as he set, wowned up and pitch the ball. I was extremely tense. For 2 innings I was sitting there like that. Enjoying every heart pounding moment. And when that final out was recorded, I threw my hands in the air and screams “YES!” teers were flowing, I felt like I was flying. I felt like I was there. I was celebrating with him on the mound. It was just amazing.

As I have expressed before, it is also the generational thing which was made no clarer than when I was at the 100th birthday selebration for Fenway Park and Caroline Kennedy threw out the ceremonial first pitch, as her great grand father, John (honey fitz) Kennedy did 100 years to the moment to open Fenway park.

And to think that I sit in the game exact place that my grand father and his father did 90 years ago.


“Ray, people will come Ray. They'll come to Iowa for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won't mind if you look around, you'll say. It's only $20 per person. They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it: for it is money they have and peace they lack. And they'll walk out to the bleachers; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere along one of the baselines, where they sat when they were children and cheered their heroes. And they'll watch the game and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Ray. The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Ray. People will most definitely come.”

“I believe in the Church of Baseball. I've tried all the major religions, and most of the minor ones. I've worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I heard that, I gave Jesus a chance. But it just didn't work out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer metaphysics to theology. You see, there's no guilt in baseball, and it's never boring... which makes it like sex. There's never been a ballplayer slept with me who didn't have the best year of his career. Making love is like hitting a baseball: you just gotta relax and concentrate. Besides, I'd never sleep with a player hitting under .250... not unless he had a lot of RBIs and was a great glove man up the middle. You see, there's a certain amount of life wisdom I give these boys. I can expand their minds. Sometimes when I've got a ballplayer alone, I'll just read Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman to him, and the guys are so sweet, they always stay and listen. 'Course, a guy'll listen to anything if he thinks it's foreplay. I make them feel confident, and they make me feel safe, and pretty. 'Course, what I give them lasts a lifetime; what they give me lasts 142 games. Sometimes it seems like a bad trade. But bad trades are part of baseball - now who can forget Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas, for God's sake? It's a long season and you gotta trust it. I've tried 'em all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the Church of Baseball.”

“I just slid my ticket across the table, and I said, "Sorry, guys; I gotta see about a girl."

“Why? I'll tell you why, 'cause the Red Sox never let you down.
That's right. I mean - why? Because they haven't won a World Series in a century or so? So what? They're here. Every April, they're here. At 1:05 or at 7:05, there is a game. And if it gets rained out, guess what? They make it up to you. Does anyone else in your life do that? The Red Sox don't get divorced. This is a real family. This is the family that's here for you.”

“If you love me enough to sell your tickets, I love you enough not to let you.”