It might be too dramatic to say a little piece of me died, but that’s kind of how it felt. I was looking forward to what I thought would become the most classic of Fall Classic showdowns. I mean, Joe Torre coaching against his beloved New York Yankees? It couldn’t get any better than that.
I guess I underestimated the defending World Series champion Philadelphia Phillies. So now, if and when the Yankees get that final win to propel them into the series, I will pull fiercely against those Phillies that ruined my dream.
At least now I can pull for the Yankees without having conflicted feelings about rooting against Torre, a manager I have always loved.
I’m sure there are some readers out there who will get mad at me for admitting my love for those darn Yankees. How unSouthern of me! Ironically, many of these same people are Red Sox fans, but I fail to see how Boston, Massachusetts, is in any way Southern.
For me, it’s more about rooting for the team that made me fall in love with America’s favorite pastime — baseball.
It all began in 1996 when I began to hear talk of this new Yankee who was garnering interest throughout the Major Leagues. You’ve guessed it — Derek Jeter. I turned 9 that year. As a little girl I hadn’t been that interested in baseball. I was frequently exposed to it and chose the Atlanta Braves as my favorite team, but I largely ignored sports.
But as I began watching Jeter, especially in the World Series, I was hooked. I couldn’t stop watching this young player who had such fluidity as a shortstop. I didn’t even mind that much that the Braves lost the World Series.
From that point on, baseball was my favorite sport, and I watched Jeter every chance I got. I fell in love with the team that surrounded him — Andy Pettitte, Paul O’Neill, Mariano Rivera, Bernie Williams.
To this day, I still think Jeter is one of the classiest players of all time. He hustles, he laughs off disagreements, and at 35-years-old, he still plays with the agility of a 20-year-old.
Thanks to Jeter, I went on to develop a lasting love affair with baseball. There’s nothing better to me than sitting on bleachers, eating a hot dog and watching a good game. It doesn’t matter to me whether it’s my brother’s Little League team, local star Dustin Ackley (who came from the same little town as I did), or the New York Yankees playing. I love the game.
And I love hearing stories about the game. My grandpa Tommy Bray can reel me in every time with a tale of his days playing ball as a youth. And I’ll never get tired of hearing about the likes of Sandy Koufax and Pete “Charlie Hustle” Rose from someone who’s watched them play.
These days I don’t keep up with baseball like I used to. Through college I got distracted and didn’t watch it much. But every time I flip the channels and see someone pitch a smoldering fastball or have a monster hit, I still get warm on the inside.
This Fall Classic may not be shaping up the way I planned, but that’s OK. I’m still content to sit on the couch with my family, hopefully root for my Jeter, and enjoy a little bit more of the greatest game on earth.
Meghann Evans is a staff reporter with The Mount Airy News. She can be reached at mevans@mtairynews.com or at 719-1952.
Post a Comment
