I must admit, following the conclusion of the Cubsâ€™ World Seriesâ€™ 7th game victory this past November, my appetite for viewing baseball games was completely sated: As you may recall, the game went ten innings and lasted nearly four-and-a-half hours. It was reminiscent of how I feel shortly after finishing the last bite of that last piece of pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving Dayâ€”I couldnâ€™t possibly ever eat another bite. And then six p.m. rolls around and its dÃ©jÃ vu all over again, as Yogi Berra would say. And so it goes for baseball, as we impatiently count off the days till the opener on April 2nd.
I hate this time of year for weeknight TV viewing: pretty much nothing on the tube but basketball. Maybe a soccer match from somewhere or other (soccerâ€™s a sport, right?). And airings of the earliest stages of the golf season. But I refuse to watch golf this early in the year. Doing so disrupts my circadian rhythms and can lead to Seasonal Affective Disorder and depression caused by imbalanced serotonin levels (this condition is also caused by living in Michigan in the winter, which typically runs from early September through June). Golf doesnâ€™t really start until Pebble Beach as far as Iâ€™m concerned.
In the meantime, I have been biding my time by watching some old baseball movies: â€œA League of Their Ownâ€ and â€œBull Durhamâ€ so far. By the way, hereâ€™s a bit of trivia: You might find it interesting to know that some of the early scenes in â€œA Leagueâ€¦â€ were filmed at Wrigley Field in Chicago (cleverly disguised as â€œHarvey Field,â€ as if no one would notice the ivied brick walls in the outfield).
In any event, the World Champion Chicago Cubs have been having an off-season blast, and deservedly so, with all the TV talk show appearances, media interviews and being invited to the White House to provide the president with yet another success-by-association photo-op.Â But, before long, it will be time for these guys to dust off their spikes, sticky up their bats and once again stand with their caps over their hearts for the first of 162 renditions of the national anthem. And baseball every night. So, get your MLB.com subscription renewed and repossess the remote from your teenage daughter: it will soon be time to get your eye black on.