I'm sorry, but I'm not a baseball fan.
OK, I'll pack my bags and you can send me to Siberia, so long as they don't play baseball there.
Don't get me wrong. I don't have anything against baseball, per se, it's just that I'm not a fan. I don't have a favorite team. I don't have a favorite player.
I just don't give a rat's ass about baseball.
My ambivalence towards baseball may stem from the pick-up games we had as a kid where I was the last player chosen. Yes, I was the Charlie Brown of my neighborhood, doomed to play the outfield forever.
Once we had an injury and the Coach asked if I could play Second Base. I lept at the chance. Second Base was my ideal position because I was fast, but I couldn't throw far. I was a disaster in the outfield. I was probably nearsighted at the time, too, which didn't help.
Anyway, I was brilliant at Second Base. I scored several outs and made a number of crucial plays. It was my finest moment. Then the Coach said that I was to go back to the outfield because the Second Base player was well. Coach told me that I was a good Second Base player but the other guy had started at second base and his parents sort of expected him to play that position and if I went back to Center Field where I would drop balls and be unable to throw them into the infield, well, that would help the team a whole lot.
So, I went out to Center Field and got yelled at a lot. I felt good, though, becuse I knew I was helping the team.
I sort of lost interest in baseball after that.
There was an article in the paper about a Houston team in some sort of play off. Are the Astros from around here?
I wouldn't know.