I actually know people who do not like baseball. Even in the spring. They ask, “Are you going to all 18 spring training games? Why? Don’t you get bored?”
These poor devils.
Did I mention I spend each spring watching Red Sox spring training games?
Sure, sometimes in the seventh inning when all the big-time regulars are in the shower and their positions have been taken by Hector Mercado, Phillip Lopez and the immortal Lyman Rutherford, the game becomes a bit tedious and some of us sneak out early.
But every baseball game, like every snowflake, is different.
In one game last week against Cincinnati, six home runs were slammed over the wall of the City of Palms Park. I don’t care who hits it, the arc of the white ball against the perfect blue sky is always compelling. Naturally, it is twice as nice if a Red Sox batter hits it.
Then there was the game against Puerto Rico’s national team, part of the World Baseball Classic. If there was an inkling to “skip” a game and loll at the Majestic Golf Club pool, this would have been it. It would have been a terrible mistake.
The Puerto Rican fans came to party. They had flags, their own band with cowbell, trumpet and drums and an endless chorus of songs and chants for their favorite players. It was more like Mardi Gras than a baseball game and served to remind how quiet the Florida crowd is for most of the Red Sox games.
And it featured old favorite Bernie Williams (a Yankee, but a good one, like Reggie Jackson). I remember that George Steinbrenner hated Williams so much he used to call him “Mister May,” meaning he performed better at the beginning of the season instead of the end and in the playoffs, kind of like Alex Rodriguez. If Steinbrenner hated you, I loved you.
Anyway, Bernie stepped in against the new Red Sox terror Daniel Bard. Bard struck out the aging legend on three pitches and probably ended any comeback hopes that were being harbored by Mr. Williams. Bard, a 6-4 draft choice out of the University of North Carolina, has pitched four shutout innings with six strikeouts and has “major league” written all over him.
Puerto Rico dumped the Sox 9-5 and hundreds, if not thousands, of fans waited outside the park for their victorious heroes.
In almost every game there is the casual grace and speed of center fielder Jacoby Ellsbury. One of the many athletic gifts I missed was the mystifying ability to tell where a fly ball was going to land, precisely. Another gift I missed was foot speed, which Ellsbury demonstrates each and every game. Now, if only he can hit.
We pray silently in our seats that slugger “Big Papi” David Ortiz and fan favorite Jason Varitek don’t lose it in the same year.
Sure, Boston lost Tuesday 5-1 to Baltimore but the game opened with an (almost) inside-the-park home run by Jed Lowrie, ruined by a misguided umpire. Fashionably Bohemian Bob from Owls Head was standing right behind home plate and testified that Lowrie was safe.
His word is law with me.
Boston’s talent pool is so good they have 15 players in the World Baseball Classic, tied with the New York Mets for best in the league.
But if favorites like Kevin Youkilis, Dustin Pedroia and Ortiz are missing (at least until their teams are eliminated) we get to watch future stars Nick Green (seven runs as of Wednesday), Paul McAnulty (seven RBIs) and Lars Anderson.
Old friends from the Portland Sea Dogs looking for a major league spot include Anderson, Zack Daeges, Kris Johnson, Adam Mills, Josh Reddick, Dustin Richardson, Gil Velazquez and another knuckle-ball pitcher (grrr), Charlie Zink.
First baseman Anderson, a 6-4 blond Adonis, is looking good, so good that Baseball America picked him as the 17th best prospect in the country. Smart money has him hitting his home runs at Fenway Park within a very few years. Wait until the Boston ladies get a gawk at him.
We have a dozen games to go. The Yankees are in for a Friday night game.
Life is good. Baseball is perfect.
And, oh: It’s 80 degrees.
Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.