Hall of Shame
By Lisa R. Neilson
Here’s a riddle for you on this rainy Friday in June:
What do Yankees third baseman Alex Rodriguez, Milwaukee Brewers left fielder Ryan Braun and little old me have in common?
If you guessed that I, too, indulged in performance enhancing drugs at the Biogenesis Clinic the last time I was in Miami, then you’d be wrong. But if you suspected that all three of us belong in the Hall of Shame, then you’d be absolutely right! Now we all know why Rodriguez and Braun should probably end up there, right? But me??? What could I have possibly done to earn induction into a club of such scandalous individuals?
Well, I have a confession to make: I’ve been a rotten baseball fan so far this season. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s true, and I’m here today to tell my story.
Keep in mind that there are various levels of rotten. In my defense, I consider myself to be only at the tip of the iceberg in this situation, and there for good reasons. Although my love for baseball is as strong as ever, I’ve got this thing called ‘life’ going on. You know, where there’s a house to maintain, a family to look after, and a job to show up at, all of which have been making extremely high demands on me this year. For some reason, these demands are crowding out my daily baseball game viewing time.
I’ve been forced to catch only snippets of innings of my beloved boys in Flushing, read the highlights every morning of what’s been happening around the majors, and experience embarrassment at 11:28 pm when my 75 year-old father’s excited phone call about that walk-off win in the 10th awakens me from a dead sleep. Never as a fan have I been reduced to such humiliation!
This season, I’m the one in the coffee line straining to hear the conversation about last night’s scores from the fellas three place up from me. I’m the one with the dead pan look when my husband asks me David Wright’s home run count so far. And, yup, I’m the one who can’t for the life of me remember whose turn it is in the rotation today.
I’m confident, though, that relief is waiting in the wings. The house can maintain itself for a while once the prep for the high school graduation party is complete; the teenage daughters can make their own lunches for their summer jobs; and the 60 online students in the summer session can grade each other’s work. Right?
The lazy, hazy days of summer are coming, and that means more baseball time for me. It should be enough to get me back on top of my game and exonerate me from the Hall of Shame.
I’m guessing Rodriguez and Braun are going to need a little more help in that department.