Summer Means Nothing To Me Without Baseball

By Oscar Barajas, NewsTaco

Baseball is a beautiful science. It ebbs and it flows, never giving up its balance. It is one of the few sports where fans cheering on the same team can sit in unison and pray for completely different outcomes. You have fans like me who want to witness an outstanding pitching performance. Nothing lights up my heart like watching a low scoring one run game. Then you have others who prefer high octane offensive blowouts that resemble a football score. In my eyes, there is nothing more blasphemous than an 14-10 game with a dozen pitching changes.

I love baseball so much, that one of my goals in life is to visit all thirty major league stadiums. So far I have four down and I only need Oakland to complete the first leg of my insane mission. This is going to take up the rest of my life, so I am trying to keep it at a moderate pace.

Baseball is a sport that allows for you to talk between innings as well as between pitches without missing much of the action. It is like watching a beautiful wave rise up only to come crashing down. However there are some times when that wave does not come down, like when your team executes a double play or the player who always meets your expectations of failure contradicts everything you know, and gets the game winning hit.

My team is the Los Angeles Dodgers. They have not won a World Series since 1988, back when I was in the 5^th grade. This is relevant because every Dodger fan suffers from the same disease. We all try to pretend like 1988 was a couple of months ago. I am just as guilty because in my eyes, George Bush was still the president when they won their last championship. What I don’t let people know is that it was George Herbert Walker Bush.

The Dodgers are the fulfillment of something similar to the housing bubble. They start off every season strong only to end up with a bloated payroll and no way to burn the place down because the insurance company stopped taking their checks. They are world beaters in April, May and June but as soon as August and September roll around they run out of gas and finish in a mediocre spot winning a handful of games more than they lost.

Part of it is Dodger management, that always finds a way to hold on to the wrong prospect for longer than they should. What makes it more tragic as well as comical is that they tend to do it with siblings of all-star players. It is like watching the Yankees sign Bill Clinton while the Dodgers try to negotiate with Roger. Sure, Vladimir Guerrero might be tearing the cover off the ball with the Expos, but the Dodgers can count on Wilton Guerrero to continue riding that bench. The Angels might have Jarred Weaver, but the Dodgers can count on Jeff Weaver. The Atlanta Braves won a World Series with Greg Maddux, so why not give his brother Mike Maddux a try? All my life I waited for them to sign Ozzie Canseco just to prove my theory that this was more than a conspiracy.

The other blame belongs to us, the fans. We act like a stubborn child who stares at the sun during an eclipse. We keep showing up regardless of the product that is put on the field. We refuse to vote with our wallets. Sure, Dodger fans might arrive by the 4^th inning and leave by the 7^th inning stretch, but it is the thought that counts.

I will always be a Dodger fan for better or worse. I will always sit in my seat with a Dodger Dog even though I know it is worse than better. It is the kind of tradition I will be buried with. Besides, we are not that far removed from 1988. Didn’t we just play the Summer Olympic Games in Seoul a couple of years ago?