Baseball?

I didn't grow up in a sports-minded family. We were very into the sports we were involved in -- swimming, diving, basketball, and even wrestling for a little while (not me). But college and professional sports were completely ignored in my household.

When I was in second/first grade, we played kickball at recess one day, and when it was my turn at bat, I kicked the ball (Successfully! Don't I deserve some recognition for that?), ran AROUND first to second (as I had seen everyone else do), and got called out somewhere around second base. I had no idea why I was out, and the teacher's assistant explained that I needed to TOUCH the base, not just run past it. I was so embarrassed and ashamed, I cried. Nevertheless, I grew up blissfully ignorant of sports in the outside world.

These days, I have a better handle on the rules of various sports, thanks to having been a loyal Terp fan in college. I can watch and follow and appreciate a good football and basketball game. In grad school, I branched out and actually played flag football and softball, thus learning even more of the details of each sport. (I'm better than your average "girl" at actually playing most sports, for the record.) I enjoy going to baseball games, in part for the food and beer and in part for the commentary I get to make about players' names and faces as they rotate through the lineup, and I certainly share the enthusiasm for the sport of my diehard Phillies fan fiance, if not his absolute submersion into all things baseball come... whatever month it is that baseball season starts each year. Heck, I even took him on a mini-stadium tour one year for his birthday (or was it Christmas?). For his part, he chooses to find my ignorance cute and to be grateful for the enthusiasm I DO provide, rather than be bitter at the fact that he cannot have long statistics and strategy discussions with me. I guess when you consider the big picture, it could have been worse: this way, he has a willing student who was quick to adopt the Phillies as her own team. He could be marrying a diehard Mets fan, instead. ;)

Anyway, in case you didn't know, the Phillies have made it into the playoffs (for the league? Division? World Series? Who knows, it's apparently a big deal.) There was a tense series of games last week, when the Phillies were racing the Mets for the NL East title. When I was elbow-deep in a woman's non-healing abdominal wound Friday night (literally, but I'll save that story for later), Eric was drunk with joy on Bardstown Road. Saturday was a little more sobering, but I still got to order a pizza out of it (which is really just as related to the fact that we still have no food in the apartment as it is to anything else).

I have seen this guy cry only a handful of times in our six-year relationship. Most have been for sad things when crying is expected, and they made such a small impression on me that I couldn't even tell you what one of them was. But two events have brought tears of joy to his eyes, and those I do remember. One was August 11, when he proposed and we got engaged. The other? Was this past Sunday night, when the Phillies won their game to make it into the playoffs. That's right, everyone, there are going to be three people in this marriage: Me, him, and Baseball. Do I mind? Nah. Do I find it amusing? ABSOLUTELY.

Go Phillies!