How I Learned to Love the Game

When I was a kid, I hated baseball. I played one year of T-ball and that was it. My brother went a little further, but I don't think he really enjoyed it much. We went to Reds games as a family, but they bored me to tears. I didn't understand any of it and my dad couldn't ever be bothered to fill me in; he was too busy listening to the game on his little radio. My parents separated and the games got too expensive, so that was the end of that. But I really didn't mind. I hated the sport and I hated Cincinnati. It was over ten years before I went to another Major League game.

I tried watching baseball on TV, usually the Olympics or something like that, but it still seemed exhausting to me. It wasn't until my freshman year of college that I started taking any interest in baseball and sports in general. Since I hated my roommate, I spent a lot of time with my suitemates, one of whom was a huge sports fan. He actually explained things to me, so I enjoyed it more. We watched football, soccer, hockey, baseball. It was a good time. It helped that he had the best TV in the whole dorm too. Matt Gahris, my suitemate, actually just joined the staff at Blog Red Machine; do me a favour and look him up. He's a good writer and he knows his sports. After doing a semester abroad in the former half of my sophomore year, I transferred from Wright State University to Ohio Wesleyan University, so I no longer was able to watch sports with my suitemate. I still miss that a little. Some of my best times at Wright State were sitting around with Matt and his roommate, Tony, watching TV—whatever sport was in season or America's Funniest Home Videos (the original with Bob Saget) at 1AM.

When I got back from my semester abroad and started at OWU I developed a pretty strong friendship with someone I had known a long time from bowling and he officially made me a baseball fan. We went to a Cleveland Indians game together and I loved it. It was against the Yankees on a Sunday afternoon. We were sat in the second-to-last row in right field, near the bull pens if you're familiar with Progressive Field. Even though we were surrounded by Yankees fans and didn't make it in time for batting practice, we still had an amazing time, especially since the Indians won—even with Grady having just been put on the DL and A-Rod having just come off. I wanted to go to another game that season, but once he started soccer in the fall, we didn't have time. The next summer we went to another game—Saturday night against the Reds the night before my 21st birthday, seats just a few rows back from first base. We stayed the night in downtown Cleveland and got a free upgrade since our room wasn't ready when we went to check in; we scored a $365 a night room for $140. The next day we went to Cedar Point. Excepting when I puked all over the hotel bathroom, it was an awesome weekend. I've since learned to never consume chocolate while drinking cider. Sadly, I am no longer friends with that person, though am hoping we could change that.

That same summer I started watching my neighbour's grandson play Pony League; he's the fifteen year old best friend I've mentioned before. It was a lot of fun watching the kids play ball. Really made me wish I had. I took him to his first Major League game that summer: the Indians vs. the Toronto Blue Jays on a Monday night. I scored two awesome seats on Stub Hub for less than half the face value. He had an amazing time. The next summer (this past summer) we went to another four games, including Opening Day. We also were able to land front row seats on the first base line for less than face value. We were the only “kids” in the front row and didn't get much attention from our waitress. She introduced herself to everyone but us. Actually, I don't think she even talked to us. But it was still awesome sitting in the front row. I only missed a handful of games on TV that summer. If I couldn't watch it at home, then I was watching the play-by-play on my phone. To be honest, I really don't know how I ended up loving baseball so much when I used to despise it. But I'm glad I do. There's a reason why its America's favourite pasttime.