Baseball is kind of an obsession for me. I just love it. I can watch any game at any time because I love studying the game, knowing the players, and watching guys run into walls.
That shit’s hilarious.
If I had no TV I would set up a telescope by my window so I could watch it on my neighbors. However I wouldn’t leave it that way because my fiance would become suspicious about my intentions. So I have to move it to an attractive woman’s window so she thinks I’m a normal creep and not some NERD!
I used to play baseball a lot as a kid and I was pretty good. A clause in the rules allowed me to stay back in lower divisions because I was born after the cutoff date. So, in reality, I was playing against kids who were younger than I was and padding my stats every single day.
I made the all-star team one year which was a true accomplishment and one I still hold on to like a child that clutches their blankie. However I’m far too old to still be reveling in accomplishments as a youth, but you just read the first sentence of this short paragraph so there is proof that it still means something to me.
Then the rules changed.
Once I got into the higher divisions I didn’t have the patience (read: skill) to practice as much as the other kids and decided that my time was better spent getting fat and imagining myself playing third base while really playing right field.
Right field in the MLB is where they put the bad fielders and guys actually hit the ball there, can you imagine how bad you had to be to play right field in LITTLE LEAGUE?! If I wasn’t so excited for Slurpees after the game I think my team would forget I was out there and would just show up the following week not even noticing I was there for seven straight days.
Eventually my love for playing baseball waned and was completely diminished when there was a play at the plate once and the catcher literally just stood there as I bounced off of him. It was like one of those slow motion crash-test dummy ads where they crash into the wall, except I ran in slow motion so the catcher had plenty of time to prepare for the collision.
After that I hung up my cleats and glove and eventually paid more attention to going to the games themselves.
If you remember from previous posts, I’m kind of a snob when I go to games which means that I NEVER bring a glove to a game.
1. Because I’m not rich enough to afford seats that balls get hit to
and
2. Because I have really good health insurance
So one day a bunch of my friends and I ventured out to Queens to see a Mets game and to test our luck on seeing if we would get stabbed and/or robbed.
The game was against the Pirates and I made sure to get people riled up by wearing a Pirates hat that was bright yellow as to make sure I would be seen. Though I was heckled by the crowd, nothing said really got to me until my friend handed me his baseball glove and said, “you’re going to need this more than me.”
He then laughed for much too long.
I cried a little bit too long.
And then things were fine.
We took our seats and watched the Pirates take batting practice. It’s weird that people are so obsessed with watching other people hit round objects with another round object. It’s also strange that people are so obsessed with getting a baseball they could buy for $2.25 at their local Sports Authority just so they can say, “I got a ball hit by Clint Barmes.”
If you don’t know who Clint Barmes is then my point is made.
Then all of the sudden CRACK!
A ball starts flying toward the bleachers and everyone starts piling on top of each other, almost creating a pyramid. It’s amazing what people are capable of doing to get free stuff!
The balls starts to fall back to the earth and my friend reaches his hand up and doesn’t come up with the ball.
My friend was robbed that day. Not in the parking lot, but right there in the bleachers. Right in front of his face by someone who swore to never bring a glove to a game.
“You need this more than me”, I said as I handed him the ball, “I think Clint Barmes hit it.”
Comedy Is Dead 