Sunday, April 02, 2017

Opening Day




Spring officially arrives by calendar in March, but in the Boston area it doesn't really get here until Opening Day. Once we see baseball being played, we know it's safe to go outdoors without mittens and boots. If the Red Sox can run around in knickers, the rest of us can ditch the long underwear.


Baseball was a passion of mine for a long time. Now I find myself, with Opening Day approaching, not as excited as I once would have been.

There are multiple reasons for my state of unexcitement. I delve into some of them in my column in today's Boston Herald. You should go there and read about them (or not, if you hate me and want to see me be a failure as a columnist for a major metropolitan newspaper.)

The reasons I don't explore in the Herald are mostly things that have to do with one of my other jobs. In addition to being a writer, I earn a few bucks as scorekeeper for a fast-pitch softball league in South Boston. In that capacity, I'm at a ballpark over there for about five hours every day Monday through Thursday. Not only does that prevent me from watching the Red Sox on a nightly basis; it also pretty much gives me my fill of guys hitting, pitching, fielding, running bases and doing all the other things the Red Sox do. And the guys in Southie PAY for the privilege to do those things and they pay ME part of that money. The Red Sox charge people to see them play, pull down multi-million-dollar salaries, and don't give ME any of it. No contest.

Really - if you know someone playing the game, and you know they give it everything they've got, AND they care enough about it to PAY for the privilege, pro baseball doesn't come close. And that's the major reason I'm not as caring about Opening Day as I used to be.

But, as I say, there are other reasons and I give you some of those in the Boston Herald.

Thanks, as always, for stopping by. I appreciate it. After all, I'm not unaware of the irony of someone who used to give his stuff away for free now making his living complaining about people making a living doing something they used to do only for love.

Soon, with more better stuff.

P.S. Some of you don't have access to a hard copy of the newspaper and therefore are physically unable to see the dandy head shot of me that graces the actual print edition. For you, here's what it looks like...



  

9 comments:

joeh said...

Lobster should NEVER be served at any ballpark!! OK, maybe in Boston, but then only a Lobster roll.

Suldog said...

Exactly, Joe. Thank you.

messymimi said...

Lobster at a baseball game? The world is not what it used to be.

Thanks for including the photo.

Jackie said...

Thank you for including the photo from the Herald.
Congratulations, my friend....

Craig said...

What Joe and Mimi said. . .

Opening Day is still pretty magical for me. As you say, the arrival of spring is more certainly marked by the beginning of baseball than by anything pertaining to equinoxes or the calendar. . .

St. Ernie Harwell used to begin the first broadcast of every season with a quote from the Bible:

"For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land." (Song of Solomon 2:11-12)

Craig said...

I wrote a couple of op-eds for the local rag, many years ago. The first time they published one of my pieces, they had me come down to get a picture taken. I ended up showing up after a long day of work, and they took a couple dozen shots to get the best one. As it turned out, they used about three or four different ones, none of 'em flattering. One of 'em made me look like a grumpy guy shooing kids off his lawn, and another one made me look like a wild-eyed maniac. And most of the opinions I expressed ran, shall we say, counter to the general editorial tone of the paper, so that was their revenge on me. . .

;)

(not necessarily your) Uncle Skip said...

I won't comment about what I think of most newspapers other than to lump them with pols and litigators.

I already commented at the Herald, where I don't have to read anything but your column.

A trip to the Major League ball yard today is now an experience instead of going to watch the game.
Sometimes that experience is more than we bargain for.
Most times it's pretty good.
Occasionally, the drunks behind you can ruin it.
. . . and who needs lobster at the Fens?

Jimmy said...

Lobster? I just can't see it, I wouldn't quit my job either, seriously I agree some things just need to be left alone.

Absolut Ruiness said...

This is the best current picture of you that I've ever seen. And my only source is this page.