Like a Moth to a Flame

I don't know what it is about baseball. I KNOW the Twins are going to be awful this season, and probably many more seasons to come, but I still find myself seeking out Twins news every single day, knowing that pre-season games start this weekend.

I also strangely find myself anxiously awaiting the start of the regular season. There is no rational reason to do this. Which pretty much means that the love of baseball, "the love of the game" is irrational.

In my mind, I know that the Twins will have one of the worst starting rotations in their history, you know, WORSE than the Ron Coomer years, but deep down inside I hope that Scott Diamond is going to be sensational again this year and that Vance Worley, completely recovered from his arm surgery is going to be contending for the Cy Young award. I also think that Cole DeVries is going to be great this season surprising just about everyone who is a baseball fan. And Rich Harden is going to look like his old Cy Young self from just a few short years ago (as soon as his shoulder is better) and and that Sam Deduno is going to be the next Dwight Gooden and...

...well, you get the idea.

Baseball turns me into a kid again.

I like that in some ways. Each season, every team starts out with the same record, and every once in a great while, out of nowhere, a 1987 or a 1991 occurs. We've lived through that twice. Being just AWFUL one season and then suddenly, World Series champs the next.

But I HATE that in so many other ways. You end up watching a lot of early season games and all of the sudden you actually see your hopes and dreams come crashing to the ground in much the same way that Plouffe mishandles a ground ball or Willingham gets turned around in the outfield trying to catch a simple fly ball.

You still tune in each night knowing the season is just getting started. You see little things that still make you hopeful. A great pitching performance here, a nicely executed squeeze play there, a walk-off homerun, a younger player who is batting .300 with lots of speed...

... and you decieve yourself into somehow thinking that it's all going to come together in just a "couple of more games."

And it doesn't. You end up losing 100 games or more. You blame big-money player contracts, management, and horrible managing while all the while seeing what they can do to fix everything for NEXT year.

Baseball is an addiction. You grew up with it. You see its mystique, and you go along for the ride every single year. Some of those rides lead to really bad trips. Just like every other addiction.