There are some sports out there that I will never understand how to play. Football, definitely one of them. Curling? I have a higher comprehension of rocket science than I do curling. Biiathlon? Why should anyone on skis have a gun? And that’s why I love baseball. America’s pastime is so easy for all (except my Belgian mother) to understand. You hit a ball, run around some bases, people cheer, and tah-dah! That’s America for you.
Growing up in our nation’s capital, we always went to Baltimore to watch baseball, as they were the closest thing to a hometown team. Until the Nats came in 2005 and all my loyalties shifted. Finally, a DC team! And who cares if we aren’t the greatest. Rome wasn’t built in a day! That was my mentality for a while anyway, until we acquired the Stras-burger-nator. Now I want to win every game.
I went to a game yesterday for Father’s Day, and one today with my amazing colleagues and Strasburg didn’t pitch at either. I feel robbed!
Now if my team isn’t winning the game, I can always find something to keep me entertained, like binoculars and a nice uninterrupted view of the starting team’s butts. When I was in high school and my softball team would go to games together, we brought enough binoculars to put the best birders to shame. Our seats were nosebleed and our hormones were raging. So out came the binoculars and those Orioles posteriors in the mid-90s did we ever appreciate.
So Strasburg, please do some squats to keep us happy. And then win a few games and make us even happier. Go Nats!