baseball is magic

i have loved baseball since i was a kid, and despite boring grown-up protestations about major league salaries, corruption, boredom, exploitation, racism, and the corporate whoring of american secular cathedrals known as baseball stadiums, i'm still enchanted by it. and even though the modern dogma might get in the way, there's something about the ritual, the superstition, and the tradition that brings all of the excitement and wonder bubbling to the surface (oddly, i have the same feelings about christmas). i love the sounds of the ballpark and the feeling of a night game at the beginning of summer, i prefer to eat cracker jacks and hotdogs when seated in the most uncomfortable chair possible, keeping score and within earshot of the cotton candy vendor, and my favorite soda is wax-flavored, diluted concession stand coke.

recently, some coworkers and i were traveling for work, and the subject of baseball came up. they informed me that they are not baseball fans, and cited the aforementioned protestations as evidence in support of their opinions. all i really had to support my viewpoint was a childhood spent watching and playing baseball, and a father who supported my habit. not my strongest arguments. i remained unable to express why i think baseball is the bee's knees...until now.

for any of you out there who remain unconverted, allow me to present exhibit A.

baseball IS magic.