It's officially summertime which means the "boys of summer" are at it again and the smell of hotdogs and cracker jack fill the air. There's a great sense of Americana in going to the ballpark...it's a time to relax and watch your boys do the thing they do. Hopefully they win but if they come up short in the end...it's still fun. Whether you're sipping a cold one or downing a salty pretzel it's a time to regroup, reunite, assess your dreams, and root for your team. But...in a world filled with television, Playstations, busy schedules, and...computers, I beg the question..."where have you gone Joe Dimaggio?" Where has the nostalgia of America's greatest pastime gone? Where has the ballpark fashion of years gone by...gone; when going to a game was as fashionably forward as going to the Derby? When was the last time we sat for hours with our friends and family while enjoying the night air, (or day air but "night air" sounds better and less...um, sweaty) catching foul's and catching...up? Whether you pull for the "majors" or follow the farm teams, it's fun all the same! I'm ready to cheer on my team, stretch in the 7th and fall in love again with the sport that was made for us! My last "majors" game was 4 years ago...Yankees...Red Sox...3 game series in NY. It was perfect in every way...except for the B train to the Bronx, but even that was memorable because on one of the trips we sat next to Freddy, the Yankee's superfan! There's just something about it...maybe it's the heat, maybe the food, maybe the beer...maybe the players, whatever it is...it's something to believe in!
"Well, I believe in the soul,...the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days." - Crash Davis (Kevin Costner) Bull Durham
Monday, June 14, 2010
Where have you gone Joe Dimaggio?
It's officially summertime which means the "boys of summer" are at it again and the smell of hotdogs and cracker jack fill the air. There's a great sense of Americana in going to the ballpark...it's a time to relax and watch your boys do the thing they do. Hopefully they win but if they come up short in the end...it's still fun. Whether you're sipping a cold one or downing a salty pretzel it's a time to regroup, reunite, assess your dreams, and root for your team. But...in a world filled with television, Playstations, busy schedules, and...computers, I beg the question..."where have you gone Joe Dimaggio?" Where has the nostalgia of America's greatest pastime gone? Where has the ballpark fashion of years gone by...gone; when going to a game was as fashionably forward as going to the Derby? When was the last time we sat for hours with our friends and family while enjoying the night air, (or day air but "night air" sounds better and less...um, sweaty) catching foul's and catching...up? Whether you pull for the "majors" or follow the farm teams, it's fun all the same! I'm ready to cheer on my team, stretch in the 7th and fall in love again with the sport that was made for us! My last "majors" game was 4 years ago...Yankees...Red Sox...3 game series in NY. It was perfect in every way...except for the B train to the Bronx, but even that was memorable because on one of the trips we sat next to Freddy, the Yankee's superfan! There's just something about it...maybe it's the heat, maybe the food, maybe the beer...maybe the players, whatever it is...it's something to believe in!
"Well, I believe in the soul,...the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days." - Crash Davis (Kevin Costner) Bull Durham
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