Tuesday, May 14, 2013

It. Could. Go. All. The. Way.

I've talked about baseball before. You can go here, to read, then follow the link on that post to read even more.

I haven't mentioned (or can't find where I did) that watching baseball is a newer phenomenon in our house.

When Bill and I were first married, we lived in Detroit. Bill detested baseball. I was (and still am, sigh) a Cubs fan. Living in Detroit the odds of catching a Cubs game were as good as the Cubs winning the pennant.

Then we moved to Georgia. They have never heard of baseball. While we could afford to upgrade our cable, baseball was still not televised in the Uebbing house. There were better things to watch. Football. Formula 1 races. Trading Spaces.

I miss that show.

Then we left the south and headed into New Jersey. That meant only one thing: the Yankees.

As you all know by now, we moved back to Michigan. America's high five. We lived here for a few years and very little baseball was viewed on our tv.

I can't say I was disappointed or frustrated that Bill wasn't a baseball fan, but maybe confused. Everyone loves baseball. Even if you don't, you can pretend you do while you eat hot dogs and drink beer.

Then, when Bill was traveling to Cleveland and had his apartment in Detroit, I started watching the Cubs. I had the remote to myself, it was the middle of summer and I remembered why I liked baseball so much.

We went to a Cubs game with my cousin and his family.

Baseball was creeping into the Uebbing house.

Last year, Bill had several opportunities to go to Tigers games. For business.

The next thing I knew, we were watching baseball games at home. We were yelling at the tv. I realized I could like the Tigers (and stop explaining to everyone I met in Michigan why I was a Cubs fan).

Now, while I am not an avid fan, I do recognize more Tigers players than Cubs. But Bill... Bill has had a complete turn around. He knows stats. He knows stats! It's like he's Greg, channeling all that love for baseball. Bill asked me if there was a game on tonight, and when I said yes, he smiled.

He found the reason why this is America's favorite pastime.

While we were watching the game last night, we were discussing how neither of us has ever seen a grand slam. Granted, they don't happen that often, but they always seem to happen when it's a game we're not watching.

And then, the bases were loaded. Dirks was up-to-bat. He swung, and the crack was the perfect pitch (pun intended). It was launched into the air.

It was going...



Welcome to our home baseball. Welcome.

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