About Me and Why I Love Baseball

American journalist, Bruce Catton, stated, “baseball is beyond question the greatest conversation piece ever invented in America.” I fell in love with baseball during one of these discussions. Growing up, conversations between my father and I were rigid, impersonal critiques of my batting stance, my follow through and the incessant reminder to keep my eye on the ball. I quickly resented the hours spent in my back yard swinging away at soft tosses and continuously chasing after fly balls. Baseball and my father were simply making my young life miserable.

And then he took me to a Cincinnati Reds game. No longer distant and cold, “coach” melted into “Dad” at “Play Ball!” He told stories of the Big Red Machine with a sparkle in his eye I never knew existed. For the first time I wasn’t being taught a skill by my dad, I was sharing an experience with him. I fell in love with baseball because baseball made me fall in love with my dad. I don’t remember if the Reds won that day or not and it doesn’t matter because a father found a way to connect with his daughter in a way we both had spent years searching for.        

             

I have often pondered why the fondest “dad memories” of my childhood occurred in the confines of that stadium. Eventually I concluded those moments, those conversations, were the only ones he knew how to have with his daughter. He just didn’t know how to relate in any other way. His love for me was expressed through giving me a passion for something we could love together, baseball.

My affection for the game has only grown. Upon graduating college with a degree in Communication, I gave back to the organization that had given me so much without ever realizing it and began an internship with the Reds for the 2007 season. Some afternoons, during my lunch break, I would go sit in the stands, one fan amongst the 42,271 empty seats. I’d smell the fresh cut, greenest grass I’d ever seen and there, in the vast emptiness and peaceful silence, almost hear the sounds that weren’t there. The games I watched with my dad were replayed on the field through my memories. A swift-gloved Barry Larkin flipping the ball to the second baseman, completing the double play in my imagination.

The end of my internship sent me packing to The University of Oklahoma, where I recently completed a Master’s degree in Communication with an emphasis in Sports Communication. I’ve worked hard the past three years in an effort to get back in the game, back to pursuing the passion in my life. Thomas Boswell wrote in the Washington Post, April 13, 1990, “we’re reaching the point where you can be a truly dedicated, state-of-the-art fan or you can have a life. Take your pick.” For me, Mr. Boswell, it’s simple. I’ll take them both, because honestly, there is no life for me that doesn’t include baseball.