The old ball game

WHAT’S SO FUNNY

The baseball season is starting. To some of you this means nothing,

and you have my sympathy. To you, spring and summer are, oh, spring

and summer, I guess, I don’t know. Who cares?

Seventeen years ago, when I was trying to persuade Patti Jo to

make me the happiest man on earth, I promised that if we were married

I would only watch one sport on TV.

There would be no “back-and-forth” games, I said -- hockey,

basketball, soccer -- except for a little postseason football, and I

wouldn’t watch golf or auto racing under any circumstances. Just

baseball. The summer game.

So we got married, in February, in the off-season.

Turns out Patti Jo grew up in a home without boys and didn’t

realize how many baseball games there are. She didn’t know they have

to play 162 games plus playoffs to determine who’s the best. She

didn’t know that each game is unique and every player a story.

By the time the World Series rolled around in October, she was

wondering why we never went out.

On this one night I could tell she was going to mention it. She

was looking from me to the TV and back again, kind of thoughtfully.

“You know, I don’t complain when you watch the news,” I said.

She blinked. “The news is important.”

“Well, I don’t complain when you watch movies.”

“YOU watch movies,” she pointed out.

“I don’t complain when you eat fruits and vegetables,” I said,

reaching a bit.

“What are you talking about?”

“My point is,” I said, “I don’t complain.”

Baseball has been my background music, my seasonal seasoning,

since I was five. I abandoned it only during my college years,

1967-71, an era of political upheaval when the prevailing question

was, “How can you think of baseball at a time like this?”

So another season is upon us -- a year of drama for fans, a year

of crowd noise in the next room for Patti Jo. The marriage has

survived because she’s found a value in the great pastime: Whenever

she’s upset or anxious I explain a key situation in the game and she

immediately falls asleep. You don’t have to love it to benefit. Go

Angels.