My Atlanta Braves are hanging on by the skin of their teeth in the National League Division Series. And my brother (thanks to his lovely wife) will be in the midst of the action for Monday night's game. Color me jealous.
To most people, it's odd how much I enjoy baseball. I'm not a person that loses myself in stats and win percentages.
I just like the game. And it reminds me of when I was a kid. When we would watch games at my grandparents' house and drink chocolate milkshakes and eat popcorn.
Back when Braves games were aired on TBS and Skip Carey and Pete Van Wieren were the announcers.
When the players looked like regular guys - Jeff Blauser, Mark Lemke, Marquis Grissom, Otis Nixon, John Smoltz, Eddie Perez. The guys that play baseball now kill themselves in the postseason to bulk up, get big and hit home runs. Or throw 100+ MPH pitches. And then blow out their elbows for a Tommy John surgery after only three games.
I enjoy the huge homers and the smoking strikeouts but there's something to be said about playing good, solid fundamental baseball. Laying down a bunt, turning a clean double play, not dropping the ball because in your head you're already throwing it to get another guy out.
And that's why I love the Braves. Bobby Cox is a baseball man. He loves the game for the same reasons I do and to watch him coach a suicide squeeze out of his players - that is pure magic.
So football is fun for socializing and college basketball is fun for March Madness.
But to me nothing is better than the Braves in the postseason.
Win it for Bobby boys.
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