Astros and Yankees Opening Day (Photos)
Yesterday was the beginning of another baseball season. For lovers of the game, there are two words that jumpstart the heart and clean the slate for another long, hopefully successful year:
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, regardless of the humiliating amount of wins and equally despicable number of losses the home ball club tallied last season (51 and 111, respectively), our boys get another shot. Who cares that we only know a grand total of two names on the roster, and the club's total player payroll is less than what Albert Pujols makes before breakfast. With every new season, our team is given something not even money can buy. A chance.
Slideshow: The Astros Beat the Yankees on Opening Day
Some people just don't get it. Why waste time on baseball, that slow, grinding, old-fashioned sport that seemingly drags on for hours, crawling to a low-scoring snooze-fest ending? Sure, the Texans had their worst season ever last year, but football is tough, fast, and so very Texan. The Rockets are serious contenders this year, and are playing amazingly great basketball right now. Hell, even the Dynamo are among the best teams in Major League Soccer.
Simplicity. That's my answer. There are no shoulder pads in baseball. No shot clock. No net. And especially no flopping, thank God. There is a ball, which is thrown at a speed upwards of ninety miles per hour that you attempt to hit with a piece of a tree. Its the smell of the grass as the runner rounds second before he slides into third. Its the sound of a strike hitting the leather of the catcher's mitt and the boom of a home run breaking the sound barrier. So simple, so beautiful, so electric. So baseball.