The Braves and the Astros are in my ear, and I should be feeling the pull of nostalgia hearing Joe Buck’s voice between the sounds of the game. It is October and the World Series has started and here is my childhood favorite team back for the first time since 1999 and yet I feel nothing.
The connection was broken long ago and no matter how many Octobers have come and gone, I have not been able to give a damn since. Were the Braves my baseball love, or was it mostly getting to witness the greatness of Greg Maddux’s pitching and the majesty of Chipper Jones’ ass in baseball pants during my formative years? Turns out, it’s the latter.
Embed from Getty ImagesI mean. 🍑
There is no criticism here for anyone who loves pro baseball – somehow I ended up falling for an even dumber sport in college football. Appreciating it as a sport and as America’s Game or whatever is totally within my grasp. Watching live baseball, from tee ball on up, is a brilliant experience. Watching the MLB close enough to care for a whole season is a slog worthy of a dramatic reenactment. I respect those that have the bandwidth to do it year after year and remember stats.
There is only one reason I am sort of paying attention to this in 2021 and one reason alone: F the Astros. They can go bang on a trash can.
Go Braves.
Embed from Getty Images
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