A Love Letter To Baseball

Dear Baseball,

Today is one of the best days of the year. The day where hope truly springs eternal and we turn our focus from surviving the brutally cold winter to dreams of summer warmth and a possible World Series title. You bestow your love on every city that hosts a professional team and to each and every one of us this day is a celebration.

You are bigger than a sport. You're engrained in our culture and DNA. Our love for you is passed down generation to generation through the shared experience of your beautiful game. Step on a field today and it is exactly the same as it was when Babe Ruth or Willie Mays made memories for thousands of fans on a daily basis. The only difference now is the bases are three inches bigger. And who could blame you for that? We could all use an extra three inches.

For many, our love for you is conditional. When our team isn't competitive we tell people you are boring and you need to change. But like a grandma that we should call more often but don't, you are there for us just the same. A comforting sight that always warms our heart. The gatekeeper of the family traditions. Our connection to the past. And your house always smells like hot dogs.

When I was about seven years old I played catch with my great grandfather in New York. He played minor league baseball and you were his passion. He threw the ball to me over and over watching me leap and dive and never miss a single play. My great grandfather was elated. He was sure he had the next baseball phenom in his bloodline. We didn't have the heart to tell gramps that the ball he was throwing was a tennis ball and the inside of my glove was velcro. Senility is a bitch but it sure is cute sometimes.

But that's the funny thing about you. You find a way to cut through the generational differences in culture, fashion, music, and society to link two people who have a 70 year age difference. You lift people out of impoverished communities all over the world and give others who feel like they have nothing to cheer for in their own lives a reason to smile and cheer. Except in Oakland And Washington. They are going to be awful.

I've seen your beautiful game give confidence to my son. Once a quiet boy who would barely speak at family functions, he now looks directly in people's eyes and laughs with us around the dinner table. I know that can directly be attributed to his growth in your game. Going from a kid riding the bench to a starting shortstop, a top of the rotation pitcher, a leadoff hitter, and more importantly, a leader of his peers. You did that. He found his ability to stand tall through you. And for that I thank you.

And I have found things through you too. First of all I found out that too many beers and too many brats make for a miserable next morning on the toilet. I have spent hours giving tribute to your cousin, the porcelain god. 

But I also found the power of positivity. Last season the Guardians were near the bottom of the league in payroll and were expected to do nothing. Everyone in the city was shitting on them. I decided it would be funny to take the opposite approach. To channel my inner Big Cat and exude Positive Vibes Only. And when they inevitably sucked I could do a heel turn like a bizarro world Randy Quad form Major League.

But they didn't suck. In fact they made a hell of a run and nearly took out the New York Yankees in the playoffs. And I found myself sitting in the gambling cave mixing it up with a bunch of guys I respect in this industry.

Over the last few months I have dealt with a lot of personal strife. My mother, who is battling lung cancer, was nearly taken out by the very treatment that is supposed to be preventing the spread of that god forsaken disease. Then my fiance and I decided to split after nearly 10 years. Those two things together are enough to bring any man to his knees.

But for some reason I kept thinking of you. Of how last year in the face of mounting adversity I decided to be positive. I am not naive and I know my feelings had nothing to do with the Guardians success. But I would venture to say the team probably had a similar mentality otherwise they wouldn't have been able to make the run they did as the youngest team in baseball. 

A positive mindset is a beautiful and powerful thing.

So today we will go out in downtown Cleveland and every other city having their home opener. We will over-imbibe on both adult beverages and hot dogs. After all, we celebrate you through the blood of hops and the body of pig anus. You are the christ to our nation's past time. We will overreact to the good plays, high five strangers, and motherfuck the guys on the other team. 

But win or lose you will give us another beautiful memory. One we can share with our kids and their kids after them. Another reminder that life is worth celebrating no matter your circumstances. Even for you Oakland or Washington fans. Because pain is temporary but hope will always spring eternal. You just have to keep the positive vibes flowing.

Truly Yours,

Will

PS. Please let your brother, the parlay god, know I need a Jose Ramirez home run and the under.