Baseball on a Summer Night
14 May 2003-11:17 p.m.
Ahh West coast baseball games. For some reason I love when the Braves are playing on the West Coast. I know the games don't start until 10 or later here, and they don't end until one or so, but I still love them. When I was younger they played a lot of games out there; back when we were a west coast team, back when there were merely two divisions in a league (as God intended), back before we had unbalanced schedules (which I'm sure is yet another affront to God. I would stay up as late as I could listening to the game. I'd fix the clock radio next to my bed, find the game, and lay in bed listening to the announcers call the game as I fell asleep. I'd have the windows open to let in the cooler nigh air. It was almost like being there. I'd almost always fall asleep before the game ended, but it didn't matter. I would actually fall asleep easier. Baseball on the radio-the voices have a soft, soothing quality, especially when combined with the background white noise of the crowd. It's a nice unhurried game. It's relaxing to listen to.
I grew up watching baseball. Oddly enough it was my mother, not my father that fostered my love of this sport. Mom grew up in Baltimore, which is only a slightly baseball crazy town, and her father loved the game. He taught her how to play, how to keep score, how to really love the game. And Mom taught me. It just seemed that on nights in the summer baseball was always on TV. Mom moved to Georgia, and transferred her loyalty to the Braves. It was a tough time liking that team. They were horrible, but we watched anyway. I grew up watching the Braves of the 80's. Teams that didn't even get close to the .500 mark. Teams so ridiculously bad that it was funny. And it was, the announcers would talk about anything other than what was happening on the field. I learned all about how not to play baseball. It was wonderful. You can imagine the joy in my house that first season the Braves started to win. Sleep became something that wasn’t entirely necessary; not if the choice was between watching the game, or going to bed. The radio became even more important because play-off games on TV didn’t have the same announcers, not our announcers. They used some “impartial” people. But the radio, ah the radio had our announcers, people who cared, people who were more excited even then we were. To listen to them call the game was thousands of times better. I remember lying in my bed, listening to a play-off game, trying to not listen. It was a final game, if we lost we’d go home. I didn’t want to think about it. I figured if I were reading and not really paying attention then maybe we’d win. I think that I had gone upstairs away from the family because if we lost I didn’t want to be around anyone else. I have no memory of what I was reading but I do remember that I read the same sentence twenty times at least. And when Sid Bream scored the game winning run, I gave up all pretense of being asleep, flew down the stairs, and celebrated with Mom, Dad and the voices on the radio.
When the season ended and baseball was no longer on in the evenings I missed it. When spring training rolled around it was wonderful. I loved it when the spring games were on in the afternoon. They don't do that as much anymore, but I used to come home from school and the windows would be open to the warm air, Mom would be doing something around the house, and the game would be on every radio we owned. No matter what room you went into the game was on. I think Mom missed baseball too. I have fond memories of lying on Mom's bed while she did something, I can't remember what, listening to the game and laughing about the fact that every radio in the house was on. Mom must have been moving around a lot that day. So anyway spring training was special It meant summer was coming soon, it meant nights laying in bed listening to the comforting sounds of Skip Carey and Don Sutton talking about anything that entered their heads. And now with us in the East, three divisions in a league, and an unbalanced schedule, we so seldom get to play on the West Coast. A lot of people like that. They can go to bed earlier, they can stay up for the whole game. I suppose that's good. But I will always love late night games, falling asleep while plays are called, and the warm summer breeze blows in the window. Late night games always smell of honeysuckle and wisteria and night blooming jasmine and they feel warm but not hot. They are comforting and I treasure every one.