The most beautiful place in my world is Dodger Stadium. It really is a sliver of heaven right here on Earth. I feel like God gave us this gift to enjoy and share with us. When they boys are winning and the sun is shining, there is nowhere else I'd rather be. I don't know when this love affair began with this sport, this team.. But I know that it is in my blood and makes up the very fiber of my being. From April through October I am excited and happy. I will watch any game, at any time and be happy about it.
I remember being a teenage girl, my parents had split and I was angry at them both for reasons that I couldn't understand.. I did the bounce back between them and when I was with my Dad, there were moments that were strained. We would turn on the ball game and all of a sudden, the lines of communication were open... It's the magic of baseball. Recently, my sweet Mama has taken a huge interest in the sport and it is just about the cutest thing ever to witness her excitement and answer her questions.
I don't know much, but I do know this.. Any man that wants to roll with me must love baseball. He has to be able to understand the gorgeousness of a 6-4-3 double play, or be able to talk me down from the tower when anxiety about our struggling relief pitchers or trades keep me up at night. He has to not be afraid of my anger at a blown save and understand why I'm in a fetal position after a devastating playoff loss.
I'm an irrational Dodger fan. I know this about myself, I know that it is complete silliness to love Jeff Weaver... Completely banana sandwich to think that we should have held on to Juan Pierre and let Manny go bye bye.. I believe that Casey Blake's batting average is in direct proportion to the fullness of his beard and no matter how much I want to, I just can't muster too much faith in Ramon Truncoso...