For the love of the game

For all the love we have in our household, Mrs. Homestead Lutheran Academy and I are moving in very opposite directions in one area: pro baseball.

I was the kid who had scrapbooks of Duane Kuiper, Rick Manning and Dennis Eckersley when I was 5 years old, and snuck the transistor radio into bed to listen to the ballgames. (I was doing just that when Pete Franklin announced the Browns/Kosar coup leading up to the supplemental draft, too.)

I was the kid who played at all city league levels until I had to stop playing, and had to start working.

I was the "kid" who would explain to Mrs. HLA what the infield fly rule was, what a balk was, and when/why you would bunt.

Last season, that started to change. Mrs. HLA was then telling me when pitchers and catchers would report to spring training - which I never knew - and had it marked on the family calendar. This year, she also had the first spring training game on the calendar, and was excited about it for weeks.

Listening to games is easy for us. We are a "radio" family as opposed to a "TV" family, and the Tribe's radio announcers, especially Tom Hamilton, are second to none. They keep the game entertaining even in blowouts, and can often keep us in stitches with their stories and sense of humor.

Somehow, this season, the Tribe games became white noise for me, even when they had their good start. When we attended their first "I give up" game against the White Sox on Memorial Day, my interest waned further. I think they lost me in earnest during CC Sabathia's "I give up" game a week ago. This is not just America's pasttime, but had been my pasttime since I was 5 years old. Now, it's another entertainment option, while the Cavs and Browns are holding my interest more, even when they don't win. I still enjoy listening to a ballgame, and like Travis Hafner (a.k.a. Pronk) and Grady Sizemore; but outside of them, though, I don't find myself actively rooting for the home team any more.

Bummer.