Fever Pitch

Remember the scene from "Fever Pitch" after Jimmy Fallon's character and Drew Barrymore's character break up and it looks like the Red Sox are tanking? He is found by his friends sitting in his darkened apartment, watching the Bill Buckner error over and over again, while the Carl Yastrzemski song plays hauntingly in the background. He's unshowered, unshaven and sitting next to a pile of chicken bones stacked up on a newspaper.

I think I may have reached that point. You will find me sitting in my darkened living room, watching 2009 Game 163 over and over again, muttering, "Brandon Inge's jersey was hit by that pitch," and listening to "April in the D." I haven't shaved my legs in weeks, and the side table is littered with Thai take-out boxes. Too graphic for you? Sorry.

Thankfully, pitchers and catchers report in three weeks, so I may yet be saved from utter ruin.

So I took my son to basketball practice this week, which happened to be at a local elementary school, and lo and behold, what did I find on the hallway bulletin board? It was a public service poster featuring none other than Curtis Granderson and Paws. Curtis was running out of the center of the poster clad in his Tiger uniform (sob), and Paws was featured around him engaged in various fitness exercises: leg lifts, lunges, stretches and pushups, all set on the Comerica Park grass. Repeat after me, Opening Day is only two months away. Sigh.

What washed up player do you think the Tigers will target next? I was so thankful to see the Brewers sign Jim Edmonds to a minor league contract.

Fever Pitch

My husband tells me I am exactly like Jimmy Fallon's character from the movie "Fever Pitch."

He claims that I act rational during the off-season--that's Winter Jen.

Then during baseball season, I'm obsessed, and I concoct no end of crazed schemes to go to the ballpark--that's Summer Jen.

Now, I admit that last season, I said I was going to purchase "x" number of games from a season ticket holder I know, and not go to any more.  My husband said at the time that it was Winter Jen talking, and he took no heed.  Sadly, he was right--I went to ten more games than "x."

I'm sorry, but there are times when Summer Jen will not admit rational, cool-headed thinking.  

Last year, I felt I had to go to Chicago for the last game of the year, so I could be there to see Magglio win the batting title.  I didn't matter that I was ill, that I would be out driving at all hours with our 8 year old son, that my husband had to work and couldn't come, that I  had nowhere to stay in Chicago, that I had no ticket.  I had a "perfectly good answer" to every obstacle--meaning, I had a wacked out, screwball notion that I could work everything out.  The clear-thinking minds in our house prevailed, and I had to watch them crown our 2007 batting champion from home.  It was great to see the Venezuelan announcers call each of his at-bats though!

The thing is, I'm not the only one who acts this way--look, there was a whole movie made about someone just like me.

I'm not embarrassed that I sometimes keep score when I'm listening to or watching the game at home.  I'm not embarrassed that I stay at the game no matter what.  I've stayed at many games that were total wash outs, and I got soaked from head to toe, and we were losing.  I wasn't the only one.  Actually though, I wouldn't care if I WAS the only one.

I simply cannot leave a game early.  If you come to the game with me,  you are staying until the game is over, or until the game is called.

Call me stupid, call me lunatic, call me whatever you want.  To me, it's all part of loving the game.