The Beauty of Baseball- from the point of view of an Irish fan

Howdy baseball fans, how are you all doing? I hope that you and all your loved ones are well and safe today.
Well the baseball season is getting closer now, so close that the AtBat app has updated which I am not happy about because the season hasn’t started yet. And all the games from last year are gone now. I cannot watch them. But that is besides the point really. Because that is the nature of progress, so all of last season’s archived games are out of reach now for little old me, hey ho!
All things are forward moving at a rate of knots and within the next few days the first pitches will be thrown, the bats will be swung, and the winter will move on into the spring. That is what is exciting. The steady movement of time going forward is often done to the sounds of that timeless game. The sights and sounds of which remain the same as when the game first turned pro all those years ago. You can look at the players on the field and see them as being Ty Cobb, The Babe, Gherig, Joe Di, The Mick, of course I am naming mostly Yankees there. No spurprise I am a Yankees fan.
But the thing is that baseball is such a sport that you can impose on the players today, the faces of any of the ghosts of the past. That is what the Field of Dreams was about I think, the way that when we watch or listen to a game we can easily see with our mind’s eye the players who made the game great and gave it its past. Time is not a friend to most things, baseball is time’s only friend because for the time that one is watching a game it is as if time has stood still, no not just stood still, it has gone backwards. We are back sharing the moments that made life sweet, we see the ones who shared those moments with us, but are now gone. Like the heroes of old they return, and it is not painful like it ought to be but it is sweet.
If you ask me why I love the game, that would be my answer. It is true that I do not share the memories of baseball with as many people that most of you would have done. I grew up in Ireland and now live in England. Most people I know do not get the game, do not understand how I can love it. But then again they have never sat down and watched the game with me. But as I sit and watch and enjoy, the memories from the field colour the world around me. Last season will forever be one of those memories. Just as I still get the goosebumps from watching the 2001 World Series games played in the Bronx. Or the shock of seeing Clemens throwing the splintered bat at Piazza in the 2000 Series, the first Subway Series in 40 odd years.
I still remember watching the 86 World Series on Irish TV while playing games with my sister in the living room of my family home. Because whenever I watch those games, like music does also, I am projected back to the moments when I watched those games for the first time. Baseball is and always will be the simplest, and most beautiful of time machines. I look forward to sharing it with you all this year.

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