Sucker...

I am truly one of those born every minute, bait for sleazy snake-oil salesmen the world over, gullible fools. Just when I said I was through with the stupid, meaningless "pretend" games of Spring, I sat watching the Cards/Twins game today on ESPN. A promo spot for MLB comes on called "This is Beyond Baseball." It starts out with video of Joe DiMaggio, and says your grandpa may have told you how he saw Joe play the field, then it goes on that maybe your dad tells stories about seeing Hank Aaron go yard. Then it ramps up to the finalé--now it's your turn to tell your kids you saw Albert Pujols do...everything. Sentimental music plays in the background. And I actually FALL for this! I find a smile curving my lips upward despite myself. Just the thought of baseball greats and watching the drama of a terrific game or play unfold turns me into a sappy, sniveling idiot.

Wow. MLB. They had me at play ball.

With such power at its hands, there is bound to be abuse. Go ahead, lose 119 games, I'll still buy tickets. Sure, trade Curtis Granderson, I'll still pay outlandish prices for officially licensed Tigers gear at the MLB store. Raise ticket prices? No sweat, I'll just raid my son's college fund to make up the difference. Player strike? Well, that kept me away for all of one year, and I came crawling back like the addict I am.

Sucker...

Oh To Be a Kid Again...

First, allow me to remind you that I did not start loving baseball until I was 13 years old.   Even then, I never knew of the wondrous item about which I am going to tell you.  I assure you, if I had known, I would have broken open the piggy bank right then and there to go buy one. 

The other day, I had to stop by the local sporting goods store to buy my son some cleats for his baseball team--woo hoo he's playing baseball--and his first practice was then rained out.  In the baseball aisle, I saw the ingenious MLB money-maker you see pictured above.

I'm not gonna lie.  I wanted one.   Bad.   I didn't care that I wasn't eight years old.  The little mini helmets are just so mini, so unpretentiously adorable.  And may I ask the rhetorical question, how much fun must it be to switch the little helmets around each day as the standings change?  

I think I'm going back tomorrow to get one.  Seriously.  Don't make fun.  You know you want one too.  Or, you already have one.