Marilyn and Baseball

M. Monroe & Angles outfielder Albie Pearson run onto the field at Chavez Ravine. June 1, 1962

It is no secret, my affection for Marilyn Monroe.  As young as 5th grade I started this affection.  I am not sure how or why it began, I only know it has not been a passing interest, but a lifelong passion.  Since I was a kid I have been collecting odds and ends of Marilyn items. The last house I lived in had a room dedicated to framed Marilyn images; Christmas ornaments, Marilyn Monroe wines, postage - I have it.

I am also very passionate about baseball.  This is a newer passion, I will admit.  I was always "that" girl - the one who was not interested in sports, and if I was it was usually basketball.  But that sport left a sour taste in my mouth, and we broke up.  Once we broke up, I started this beautiful relationship with baseball that has been frustrating, exciting, disappointing, exhilarating, and overall amazing.

Each day, I celebrate my Angels' 50th Anniversary with creating a collage of pictures based on events from that day, or the players who shaped the daily events.  While I love the sport, I am bad with remembering statistics, or events that happened that others may remember unless, of course, I saw them unravel before my eyes.  For me, it isn't about statistics, or who did what.  I agree, they are of great importance to the sport, but it isn't why I follow the teams I follow.  I follow them for the ability to enjoy watching a good game, feeling relaxed and enjoying a day with my family.  Each day I rummage through the Internet looking for images that are not only iconic, but also show current and former Angels players from all different time periods in an amazing light for their ability.  I have been able to learn more about this team, events that shaped an organization, and the men who helped shape it, from the Cowboy himself, Gene Autrey, all the way down to Mickey Mouse.

The image above is of Marilyn Monroe and Albie Pearson, an Angels player.  The image combines two of my loves.  The only thing missing would be my family.  In researching the image, though, I found some interesting information.  Not only is this image of Ms. Monroe, it is also an image of her last public appearance before she died in 1962. Strangely enough, this was also her 36th birthday.

"Albie Pearson, an outfielder with the Angels during their first six seasons, threw out a ceremonial first pitch. Pearson’s most memorable “photo op” had to be on June 1, 1962, when he and Marilyn Monroe stood at home plate together before an Angels-Yankees game to make a plea to fans for donations to the Muscular Dystrophy fund." (http://natpo.st/ifR1Cn)

Marilyn would be found at her home just a few months later, on August 5, 1962, dead, at the age of 36. Forty-nine years have passed since this moment; forty-nine years in which the world has changed so drastically it would be unrecognizable to her today.

She looks beautiful in her dress suite, her hat, heels.  Hair, perfectly coiffed, smiling from ear to ear.  The woman in this image looks happy, looks healthy, someone who has the world at her feet, just waiting to take it over. For all the conspiracy theories there are in the world, disputes about murder verses suicide, who she knew, and what she knew, the image says it all.  This is an moment of happiness caught within a lens, and shared for the world to see.  Albie looks happy to be escorting her as his head is tucked down, his joy not only captured but still felt today when you see his smile. What an amazing moment to still witness through the photograph.

Baseball is more loyal than some people I know

Within the description area of my work IM, I list my priorities.  1. God, 2. Family, 3. Baseball.  My co-workers have joked with me that baseball should be moved to the #1 spot, having God shift to the #2 spot with my love of the game.  I am not great at statistics, but can tell you that I would rather be at a field than any place else in the world.  I am a contradiction with who makes me stop in my tracks (Lou Gehrig of the New York Yankees, in case you were wondering) verses who my teams are (Angels and Red Sox).  I have a deep reverence for those who came before...the variety of early gambling to negro league hypocrisy, the days where talent mattered more than the question of using a substance to help you perform. 

I told my friend Robbie today that I am always the happiest at a ball field.  It was in a wall posting on Facebook when I told him:

"I have decided that I am happiest when at a ball field...no joke...I could be in the worst mood, but put me in front of a green field, a bat, and a ball and all of a sudden I am a little kid being handed cotton candy in Disneyland!"

It is true, however.  This summer has been less than stellar.  I have been mending a broken heart, trying to determine what my day is now that my routine I once knew has been disrupted.  While the actual heart break occurred a few months back, it has been baseball that keeps me smiling.  There is something about watching the game that lets me know everything is going to be okay.  Win or lose, there is always a game tomorrow, another pitch to be made, another swing of the bat to hear crack, another commentary if watching on television that I will either like or dislike.  But it is always there for me.  

Baseball, while it is just a sport, has been more loyal than some of the people I know.  Definitely more loyal than the cause of my heartbreak, more loyal than some friends, more loyal than the sun shining in Phoenix in the summer...it has brought me from the depths of drudgery to among the living.  It has reminded me to always do my best, that even when things seem hopeless there is always that slim chance things will come out in a positive way. 

In a summer where I really wanted to stay under the covers, not let the world know my pain, and pretty much call in sick, baseball has been the saving grace.  This has been the best series personally for me, thus far.  I have attended amazing Spring Training games, attended Opening Day at Chase Field for the Diamondbacks, traveled to see my teams play in Anaheim against each other, witnessed more extra-inning games both on television and in person than ever before, watched a game from the Owner's Suite at Chase, saw Luis Gonzalez hit a home run in a softball game with the likes of Fred Lynn, Ernie Banks, Rollie Fingers, and Ricky Henderson, along with former teammates from the 2001 World Series team, Matt Williams and Mark Grace.  And tomorrow, I am lucky enough to attend the All-Star game.  All in all, baseball has been the reason for my smile, the reason I can engage in life due to the constant need to know the scores and standings. 

My baseball friends are some of the most loyal friends I have.  Regardless of the fact I happen to follow not just one team, but two, they are still there for me, congratulating me on the other team's win, as long as they are not playing against each other.  Then, let's face it, all bets are off.  We sit and talk about the bad calls, the terrible umpires, the other team's offense, our offense, our defense, what we are going to do about someone not hitting well, and how happy we are that another is out of his slump.  We have nicknames we call the players, we even nickname the other teams and their players.  And we do this out of pure love for something that never seems to let us down.  Yes, my teams may not be winning the pennant every year, but they are still out there, rain or shine, trying to do their best.

It reminds me of the scene from "Fever Pitch".  The characters are asking themselves why they even bother attending the games, following the team, putting themselves through the misery of another loss at the World Series...this was, of course, before 2004.  In fact, the movie had to be re-shot due to the boys winning the pennant that year.  

Troy: Why do we inflict this on ourselves?
Ben: Why? I'll tell you why, 'cause the Red Sox never let you down.
Troy: Huh?
Ben: That's right. I mean - why? Because they haven't won a World Series in a century or so? So what? They're here. Every April, they're here. At 1:05 or at 7:05, there is a game. And if it gets rained out, guess what? They make it up to you. Does anyone else in your life do that? The Red Sox don't get divorced. This is a real family. This is the family that's here for you.

I have never felt cheated or lied to from within the field walls of a stadium.  I have never had to walk away, feeling betrayed or dismayed.  I may be disappointed from a loss, but there is always that distant glimmer of hope that tomorrow will be better, and 9 times out of 10 it typically is.  I have never felt lonely while looking out at a field, regardless if it is pre-game, game, or post-game time.  Within those walls I feel safe.  Within those walls, I can be the person I am - sometimes loud and vivacious, and at other times pensive and in deep contemplation.  That green grass always offers promises, hopes, dreams, and above all, faith within something bigger than myself because it is a collective effort for victory.  It isn't just one person out there, trying to do their best, it is a group of people, everyone from the pitcher to the short stop, to the manager, to the dude passing out water or the fan who claps with joy that make up a victory.  I am never alone within that environment.  I am always surrounded by people who are there for a common goal - to enjoy a damn good game of baseball.  

Congrats, Jeter

In the world of baseball, there are moments that redefine the game.  Moments that forever alter how we view a player, a team, and the sport itself.  It can happen in the blink of an eye, or over time.  But in either situation, as a fan, it can sometimes cause ultimate frustration, or ultimate joy.

Today marks an important day in the world of baseball.  For today, "Derek Jeter has become the 28th player in Major League Baseball history to get 3,000 hits, and the first to reach the milestone as a New York Yankee. The star shortstop joins Cal Ripken Jr. and Honus Wagner as the only three players at the position to reach 3,000. He is the sixth player in to accomplish the feat in 17 seasons or fewer (http://tiny.cc/2gmq4)."

That an amazing milestone for any player to reach.  As a baseball fan, I marvel at this accomplishment.  As a fan who also loathes anything Yankee related, it is bittersweet to watch this player reach such a lofty spot in a circle of very few.  This circle includes Mr. Jeter at 3,000, all the way up to Pete Rose at 4,256.  Mixed in between you will also find Carl "Yaz" Yastrzemski (3,419), Hank Aaron (3,771), and Ty Cobb (4,191).  Due to my loyalty to other teams, I am just happy this accomplishment happened on another team's clock and not that of my Angels or Red Sox players.  And from this day forward, we will be hearing about when he surpasses others before him.  It is likely he will surpass several before the end of the season, a fact I strongly am against due to who some of the other players are.

In all that is good within baseball, for all the loyalty I feel toward my teams, and the desire to not see the Yankees have another World Series ring bestowed upon their nicely paid fingers, I also feel the need to congratulate him on this.  While this is the ultimate test of character as a baseball fan, I also recognize that regardless of how I may feel about his employer, previous mishaps that left me scratching my head, and again, who is employer may be, I also recognize it is better to be that person who is bigger than that.  Sportsmanship does not always mean you will always get your way (hello, anyone hear about that 86 year drought the Red Sox had between World Series wins?); sportsmanship means you are able to rise above, offer congratulations where and when they are needed.  It means that, for the love of a great sport, you will acknowledge a job well done. 

And so, as a baseball fan, congratulations Derek Jeter.  May you always do your best, and may you always do your best while being honest in your abilities and efforts...

Lou Gehrig Speech

I was in 8th grade when I became obsessed with Lou Gehrig.  It was a strange attraction, given that at the time I could have cared less about baseball.  In fact, it would be another 10 years before I started watching baseball as a hobby, and another 2 or 3 years to have that develop into a loving relationship in which I have to maintain regardless of wins and losses each season.

8th grade...such a wonderful grade to be in.  So much confusion, so much time spent worrying about the wrong things and wondering what life will be like.  It was also a time where television produced movies of the week about everything from kids being kidnapped to a man who was battling Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS - other wise known as Lou Gehrig's disease.  The movie touched me in such a way that I started researching this disease for a paper at school, learning more about Larrupin' Lou Gehrig. At one point I could have told you his entire stat history.  In a room with posters for New Kids on the Block's Donny Wahlberg and Tom Cruise (hey, it was the 80's), I also had a picture of Gehrig until I left home after high school.  I still have that picture within my pictures of family and friends.  And while I will adamantly tell you I do not like the Yankees, Lou (along with Joe DiMaggio) are some of my favorite players of yesteryear.  He was a man who loved what he did, loved those around him, and never seemed to get into trouble like his cohort Babe Ruth.  He was a man who suffered many hardships in health from an early start, always able to overcome and succeed.  He was a man who cherished his family, cherished his friends, and cherished his fans.  He considered his life and those in his life as nothing short of a blessing.  I don't think there will ever be another man like Lou Gehrig, both on and off the fields of life and baseball.

Lou Gehrig's Speech

Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about a bad break I got. Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth. I have been in ballparks for seventeen years and have never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans.

Look at these grand men. Which of you wouldn't consider it the highlight of his career to associate with them for even one day?

Sure, I'm lucky. Who wouldn't consider it an honor to have known Jacob Ruppert - also the builder of baseball's greatest empire, Ed Barrow - to have spent the next nine years with that wonderful little fellow Miller Huggins - then to have spent the next nine years with that outstanding leader, that smart student of psychology - the best manager in baseball today, Joe McCarthy!

Sure, I'm lucky. When the New York Giants, a team you would give your right arm to beat, and vice versa, sends you a gift, that's something! When everybody down to the groundskeepers and those boys in white coats remember you with trophies, that's something.

When you have a wonderful mother-in-law who takes sides with you in squabbles against her own daughter, that's something. When you have a father and mother who work all their lives so that you can have an education and build your body, it's a blessing! When you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and shown more courage than you dreamed existed, that's the finest I know.

So I close in saying that I might have had a tough break - but I have an awful lot to live for!

What does a fan truly look like?

Jose Enciso - Biggest Angels fan I know

What does a baseball fan truly look like?  What does someone look like who spends their time following a team, cheering them on, devoting their valuable time to share their thoughts with others, spending money to watch their team, or buy merchandise?  Do they look like the person in the image above?  Does that face fit what our baseball world views as a true fan?  Maybe the biggest fan of all for his team?

A fan is not something that a team can cookie-cut to create.  We are all unique, diverse, and each sharing our own reasons for what teams we follow.  For a sport that once did not allow certain people to even play based upon skin color, opting to create a Negro League for talented men to play in, our fields are now scattered with men from all different walks of life, all different locations from around the world.  On any given team you will find someone who is more than likely not American by birth, and may not even be an American now, but still enjoying America's favorite pastime.  In today's baseball world, fans come in many different shapes, sizes, colors, nationalities, ethnicity, are both male and female. 

I am a baseball fan.  Anyone who knows me is very aware of this.  I have not always been a fan of this sport.  Truthfully, I am a newer fan, and my reasons for loving the sport started when I learned I was going to have a son.  I wanted a sport we could share together.  After relinquishing my fan-dom to anything NBA-related for the most part, never having the desire to actually watch a full Football game, and due to where I live, Hockey is not a primary sport.  So, baseball it was.

I wait all year long for Spring Training, planning my life around 30 days of games hosted in Phoenix, Arizona and surrounding suburbs.  Since my teams are not local, it is my only chance to see one of my teams live, with the Angels playing at Tempe Diablo Stadium.  While some games are mostly minor league players hoping for a spot on the 40 man roster, it is still nice to see them out and about.  Spring Training for me is what baseball is all about - young men on the field, hoping for a chance to play professionally for a sport they love. While I am not the best at remembering stats, I can tell you most my summer nights are in front of a television watching the games, or having ESPN on my cell phone to check scores.  I have missed church during play-offs to make sure my support is somehow felt on the field, even though I was sitting in the comfort of my home.  I have scared my neighbors, I am sure, with my yelling at the television.  While at both Spring Training and regular season games I have had people make funny faces at me for my loud cheering.

My teams I watch, love, and follow are the Angels and the Red Sox.  While some friends do not appreciate my dual citizenship to their fan base, I cannot hide who I love to watch.  I am not the typical fan, probably, knowing at the end of any given season I could potentially watch both teams play against each other in the playoffs. But as long as it is not the Yankees making it to the Series, I feel blessed!

My love for the Angels is a family-based decision, being married into a family that has a long tradition of halos.  My ex-husband's grandmother, Grandma Dandie, had satellite television in the late 1980's and 1990's strictly to watch her boys out on the field. She attended church where the team's chaplain was pastor.  She would call to let me know what players she saw at church, knew everything about the players down to their favorite flavor of chewing gum.  She passed away one year before the Angels won the World Series in 2002.  My father-in-law was in the minor leagues for the team, cousins have worked for the organization during the Disney years, and even took it one step further to become husband and wife on the field at Angels Stadium.  While it is true, I am not from California, I fell in love with this team because of how much my family loves the team.  Besides, who made up the stupid rule that you must be from where your favorite team is located?

My love for the Red Sox actually happened by accident. I started following the team simply because of Curt Schilling.  I had always enjoyed watching him play, seeing him pitch, and after the 2001 World Series where he helped secure a title with the Diamondbacks against the Yankees, I was mesmerized.  When he went to the Sox, I followed his career.  And then, I fell in love with the tradition, with the history, with the team, the town, and the fans.  I fell in love with Fenway, the Green Monster, and the wicked ways this team plays. You have to admire those fans who are so die-hard they simply prayed to be alive to see the team win another World Series...If you play for the Red Sox, you are family to everyone within the Nation.  There is a high respect for those who are on the team.  And in return, the players (with some exceptions) regard the Nation as family, too.

This year, for the first time I was able to watch both my teams play against each other in a regular season game, live, at Angels Stadium on Easter Sunday...I have watched regular season games with both teams separately during interleague games against the Diamondbacks, but it is always different when you see the teams you love, playing against each other.  I always feel like such a mom, yelling for both teams, cheering when they both score a run, yelling at Francona and Scioscia if they decide to keep a guy on the mound longer than I feel appropriate, and confusing everyone around me.  I could care less how others may look at me...this is who I am, and I will not apologize for it.

My friends are cut into 3 categories - Angels friends, Red Sox friends, and everyone else.  From my Red Sox friends, I have learned much about dedication, believing in spite of all odds being against you, and the love of something that you share with so many others within the Nation.  From my Angels friends, I have learned about desire, faith, comradery in something we all love.  You could not ask for a better lineup of friends.

I am not the typical fan.  I do not look like the girl who would cherish a reply tweet from Torii Hunter.  I don't look like a girl who would go see Adrian Gonzalez speak at a church about his faith, his family, and his career.  I probably don't look like the girl who's closet primarily contains baseball shirts for both teams.  Looking at me, you would probably never guess I have cherished baseball items like signed hats I refuse to wear again, newspaper clippings from terrific wins, or a shelf of empty Budweiser and Bud Light beer bottles that contain the image of a giant "Å".  I may not fit in with what anyone would consider the face of baseball...but who does? 

The image above at the beginning of this blog post is of an Angels fan/friend of mine, Jose. Jose is by far the biggest Angels fan, next to Grandma Dandie, that I know of.  He not only services his team well by continuing a tradition of history with and for the team, he also is welcoming of others into his inner-circle for how he chooses to be a fan.  He is loyal to one team, the Angels.  While he has other obligations in his life, he chooses to spend his valuable time supporting the players, past and present.  To me, he is what a fan is all about.  He is the face of a fan...someone loyal to the sport, loyal to the team, loyal to other fans who share his love.  He is not a cookie cutter image of apple pie, yet he is a man who does not apologize for his baseball affections.

Like those playing on the fields of our baseball stadiums, he is diverse in thought, in feelings, in appearance.  Any team would be lucky to have him as their fan...and the Angels are the lucky team he has chosen to give his fan-dom to.  He IS the image of Angels baseball to me.

Maybe I shouldn't be watching, or caring

Baseball has started again...that time of year I look forward to.  Where the grass is green, sun is high above, and my favorite player is in right field, hopefully able to catch a fly ball or two.

But this year is different.  Right now, my Red Sox are 0-6.  Right now, my Angels are fairing better, with 3-3, but not stellar considering they have only played 6 games... It occurred to me today, as I watched another game for Red Sox, and another loss, maybe I shouldn't be watching...Maybe because I am watching, my teams are suffering...all that baseball superstition is, yes, superstition, but none the less, when you want your teams to win, you will try anything to help, right?

So, I have decided that tomorrow, during both of my teams Opening Day at Fenway and Angels Stadiums, I will not watch.  I wouldn't want to risk having them lose on home turf, opening day.  This will be hard, but it goes without saying, as a fan, I do what I can to support my teams...no listening to the game, checking the score until the games are over, nothing...it will be a Red Sox/Angels hiatus of sorts...

The saddest thing, truly the saddest, is that I won't be able to watch Torii in right field...that is the hardest part of all...but hopefully it will help with the much needed team mojo!!

Sweet Caroline - bahm bahm bahm

Hello, my name is Ruthe Lane, and I am an emotional person.  I cry at the drop of a hat. I cry when I am happy, sad, mad...over-active tear ducts are definitely something I am familiar with.   And tonight, I had an epiphany.  I also cry during sports events...

I have sworn off sappy chic-flicks for the reason of over-active tear ducts.  The reason why I swore them off was due to one of the last sappy crappy I watched, 'Leap Year,' shortly after having gone through a break up this summer.  Let me tell you, that damn wedding toast had me crying for 3 hours straight...you know the one; that really sweet lyrical toast given in the middle of the wedding that you want to have someone tell you:

"May you never steal, lie or cheat. 

But if you must steal, then steal away my sorrows. 

And if you must lie, lie with me all the nights of my life. 

And if you must cheat, then please cheat death, 

because I couldn't live a day without you"

I still hold out hope to marry again some day, and hold out hope to use this during my wedding...

No, I swore those movies off...and then my friend wanted to watch 'Dear John.'  Okay, I watched it.  And it wasn't as bad as I thought because I am in a different frame of mind. I am dating someone new, happy, and somehow the sappiness didn't seem to matter.  But, that is also the last sappy movie I have watched.

Fast forward to today, January 28, 2011.  Still seeing the guy I was seeing when watching Dear John, happy in general with things in my life...the only thing missing right now is, well, the guy being here and not in another state, and baseball.  That would complete my day.  So, to fill the gap of one of my wants, I put in 'Fever Pitch.'  

First off, anyone who knows me knows I am a baseball fan.  I may not be the biggest on knowing stats, but I love watching the game.  And there are certain rules I have, which some of them have been broken.  For example - as an Angels / Red Sox fan I could not think of crossing party lines, so to speak, and date a Yankees fan...that is just unthinkable.  What would RSN think?  Well, enter the guy I am seeing, who likes to kindly remind me each chance he gets of how many pennants his team has won.  Being a fan of the opposing side, I just roll my eyes.  Another rule I have is to watch as much baseball as I can watch, but not go overboard.  Let's face it, too much of a good thing is just too much.  You need a balance, and if you do not have that balance life shifts into the Bizzaro World that is spoken of in Superman comics...no, we don't want that.  These are guidelines for my watching and enjoying baseball...and so far, up until July, 2010, I was doing good (that is when I started seeing my guy.)  That being said, I really don't see this movie as a sappy chic flick.  If anything, it is a sappy Sox flick where anyone who has followed the Sox, knows someone who follows the Sox, loves someone who follows the Sox, and/or participated in anything Red Sox Nation related can completely relate to.  We are crazy fans.  We live and breathe our boys of summer.  We get miserable when they lose, and feel like we could soar with eagles when they win.  There is even a quote in the movie that describes the passion the Nation has for our team:

Troy: Why do we inflict this on ourselves?
Ben: Why? I'll tell you why, 'cause the Red Sox never let you down.
Troy: Huh?
Ben: That's right. I mean - why? Because they haven't won a World Series in a century or so? So what? They're here. Every April, they're here. At 1:05 or at 7:05, there is a game. And if it gets rained out, guess what? They make it up to you. Does anyone else in your life do that? The Red Sox don't get divorced. This is a real family. This is the family that's here for you.

I can laugh at the character named Ben because I know guys like him.  I can laugh at the character because I used to date someone similar to Ben.  Yes, I was a Lindsay at one point in my life.  So in watching this movie, it is nice to see this little story of a guy so in love with the Sox she has to cover his ears while he is eating lobster to avoid hearing about the game he is taping.

But that isn't what makes me get teary-eyed watching this movie.  Pardon the language, but screw the love story in this movie.  The part that always makes me tear up, choke up, and have Niagara Falls eyes is seeing the Sox win the World Series in the movie, in 2004, which happened in life, in 2004...after the drought came this over-abundance of delight at these guys winning.  Sweet Caroline, good times never seemed so good.

Tonight while watching the movie, though, it occurred to me something very important.  So important I called my Yankee loving guy and told him my thoughts immediately...those tears, the emotion, and the joy of seeing clips from a former World Series are so dear to me.  They are dear to me because of every year they didn't make it.  They are dear to me for every fan who sat, breathless, hoping they would win each other year, and those that were able to witness it that year, and in 2007.  For Red Sox fans, our pennants are held more dearly to us because it meant the end of a drought...the end of famine...and the beginning of something new.  For each pennant the Yankees may have, I wonder how many hold such reverence for each time they have won.  Do they tear up because they won the 2009 Series?  For Sox fans, so used to disappointment, we see each pennant we have won, or may win in the future, as reverently as we do going to church on Sunday.  Heck, Fenway is a house of worship for some where prayers are made to the Lord to be on our side.

And with any luck, He will be on our side for 2011.

Baseball is my favorite sport

Adrian Gonzalez and me at a fan autograph session in Mesa, AZ; 1/15/2011

I am a baseball fan.  Very happy to admit this, and also tell you I can not wait for the season to start again.  I am an oddity in the baseball world due to my favorite teams both belong to the American League, and have gone head to head in play-off games to where I sound schizophrenic in shouting for both teams.  My teams, in order, are the Angels and the Red Sox

Truth be told, I am apt to be a better Sox fan due to belonging to the Red Sox Nation, having previously dated a Sox fan for nearly 5 years, and knowing more about the players due to this.  But it is the Angels I am able to watch during Spring Training that makes me happy.  It is conflicting and contradictory; I am fully aware of this. 

When talking about who you follow, it always amazes me the different types of fans there are.  You have your die-hard fans that live, breath, and pray to the sport of their liking.  You have the follower who knows what they do and do not like, but also knows if there team doesn't win it is not the end of the world.  The fair-weather fan who likes a team when they are winning and hates them when they lose.  You also have the unaware fan - those who have absolutely no clue what is going on or who is playing, but still manage to have a good time.  And for all the sports there are in the world, I am sure there are more types of fans, but these are the options that stick out the most to me. I have been in all categories at one time or another, I am sure.  But I have a terrible side to me that if I am disappointed beyond all hope, I will drop a team or sport like a bad habit, never to really follow them again.

Case in point - basketball.  Growing up I was a huge basketball fan.  I loved watching the game, knew all the players, knew stats, knew the rules for the game, and was absolutely crazy about Dan Majerle.  Dan, the 3 point shooting guard who was with the Phoenix Suns during a very important time for Phoenix sports. But then, a little thing called a strike in the 90's.  This was, of course, after ridiculous contracts had been signed, and I was so furious I vowed to stop watching the sport...and by stop watching I am talking about forgetting everything I knew, forgetting what I enjoyed about the game, and forgetting the game really existed.  I can count on my one hand the number of games I have been to for an NBA game since that time.  Of the games I have watched, I did enjoy them, but that love for the game is not like riding a bike after years of not riding - it has not come back to me.  The one exception to this rule is the WNBA.  I enjoy watching those games due to the drive these players have, the way they play, and truly the difference in how they play vs. the men.

So how did I become a baseball fan?  And why am I a fan after all the strikes that sport has also endured?  Doesn't that sound rather harsh?  To me, though, I knew once I said I was no longer a fan, there was no looking back.  And, like I said, I will attend games, but just not for the same reason as those I am going to a game with.  I became a fan of baseball when I learned I was pregnant with a boy.  Since I was no longer going to watch basketball I thought it wise to find another sport to follow for the sake of being a mom to a boy.  My ex-husbands family was die hard fans of baseball...Grandma Dandie had satellite television before it was common place to have satellite television...all to follow baseball and her favorite team, the Angels.  Having been a long time fan, she even attended the church where the pastor was also the team's chaplain.  She would get excited when her two loves, baseball and church merged as one...she knew all about the players with stats, whether they liked regular flavored chewing gum or mint flavored variety.  She knew their height, weight, eye color, where they were from and whether they talked to their mothers on a regular basis.  My ex-father-in-law Dale had been drafted to the minor league for the Angels, and a cousin was married on the home plate at the Angels stadium...and this is where my love for baseball began, and where my following the Angels began.  Grandma always hoped for a World Series title for the team, and was one year shy of seeing it happen when she passed away in 2001.

For most, baseball is a game they may be able to see live, but would not ever want to watch on television.  I remember growing up, with brothers who could not wait for playoffs and the World Series and me hoping to escape this hell within the confines of my bedroom walls.  I had no desire to watch the game.  But, now that is different.  I can watch the game live or on television, and get the same emotions in either location.  I can watch old television programs on the MLB network and while I do not know the stats of my teams, I am happy to enjoy a good game anywhere.  Come Spring Training you can find me at the field, watching a game.

Fenway are doing the exact same job that players were doing nearly 100 years ago.  I can't compare how it feels to sit in the stands, close to the grass, sun on my skin, as I watch the "boys of summer" hit, run, throw, pitch, and play as they do.

The reason I love baseball is the calmness of the game.  While most find this boring, I find it soothing.  I like the fact that they are not tackling each other, as is the case in football, or crying foul if someone else touches them as in the case of basketball.  I like the fact that it is a long season, where the players are forced to perform much longer than other sports.  I like the heritage of the sport, and the history of those who have played.  In the end, my finding baseball is what has made me happier than ever watching basketball because it is more accessible to me.  In the end, I am a baseball fan, who follows a few teams, and is proud to be a part of what makes the sport so great - the people who love the game.

Oh man, they only had those "other" teams crap

So, I went out today, as I have in the past, for items from a non-Arizona team...anything other than the Diamondbacks or Cardinals. You know - teams that actually perform, and have a track record for performance.

Not to say the D-Backs and Cardinals are not performing teams...I mean, the D-Backs have won a World Series against the Yankees. They have won division championships. And, after how many years did the Cardinals make it to the Super Bowl. Sure, they didn't win, but it was amazing to see the bandwagon of friends they brought to town.

No, I was looking for teams of either the NFL or MLB persuasion that may or may not be winners this year. They may or may not have been winners in the past, but none-the-less, here I am looking for a t-shirt, bumper sticker, random crazy item and nothing. If I were a Steelers fan, or at least looking for Steelers items, I would have been set. If I thought buying those commercial looking t-shirts that everyone has, I would have been thrilled. Nope, I am hard to please I guess.

The conversation with the sales person went something like this:
Me: "Excuse me, do you have anything for (INSERT TEAM NAME HERE). Do you have anything?"

Sales Person: "We have a few things. We usually have more, but due to their record this year we haven't gotten much in."

Me, interpreting this in my head for what the sales person just said to me: "I am sorry you are looking for a team that is not local. Our local teams suck, but we have plenty of their items left at full price. Due to you looking for something that is another team other than our sucky teams who is having a tough year, you are out of luck."

The funny thing is, Phoenix is not a sports town. We have had the Suns, D-Backs, Cardinals, and hell, even the Coyotes in town for awhile. True, Suns have done well in the past, and they are the oldest home team. Short of the one World Series title from the D-Backs, however, we are not a powerhouse. We don't even have a house to put our power in. We really don't cater to fans at large, which I understand. But, man, why do they have to sell items for teams I really care less about? Maybe this is true for other towns, and difficulties in finding team gear there. But you would think they would have a schmear of everything. Instead, they only had the other teams crap I do not wish to purchase.