I love baseball.

She’s a cruel mistress and she has broken my heart more than once. But still, I keep coming back. I’m such a pushover.

Box scores? No. Not any longer. It’s like keeping a written ledger of the evenings being stood up, sitting alone at the restaurant, finishing off the bottle, staring at an empty glass across the table.

You probably deserve an explanation, but it is just too complicated. It goes too far back. Even beyond a season spent collecting splinters as a kid, knowing I was as good as the kid at second base. Knowing it. Believing it. Knowing it. But not a single inning in the lineup.

Getting knocked out. Playing second base in a kid’s league All-Star game. Not just taken out – physically and literally knocked out.

Then there was the World Series earthquake. The doping scandals. And above all else: the player’s strike.

How could they?

Paid to play a game that I would have given anything to be a part of – a game I would have paid to play if I only had the cash. And the players went on strike.

I love baseball.

Just a little wink, a hint of attention is all I need. I come groveling back. A simple story, more about money than the sport and you have your fist around my heart again. It just isn’t fair.

Brad Pitt could be partly to blame. He’s a favorite, too. Moneyball.

In this case – thank goodness for commercials on FX. Lets me gather myself. I never used to get caught up in movies, being too busy watching for special effects, great performances. But this, after all is considered, is a Baseball Movie. Starring Brad Pitt. Moneyball. Based on true events.

Oakland A’s.

A = Short for Athletics. Formerly of Kansas City. Formerly the team on the television of my grandfather. Some of you will recall my conversation with him. I’m sure – despite the fact that I was little more than a toddler – I told him I wanted to play for the Yankees. Those &*$+@$ Yankees, and I’m betting he wanted to throttle me. Rivalries. I understand them a little more these days. We have our favorite teams.

“It’s hard not to be romantic about baseball,” says Brad Pitt, playing Billy Beane, the manager of the Oakland A’s in Moneyball. “I’m not in it for a record or a ring.”

Yeah. It’s hard not to be romantic about baseball. A first love. An enduring love. A fickle lover.

Have trouble with politics or health or finances?

There’s always baseball. Doesn’t always say what you want to hear, but the voice is so soothing and magical and alluring. There’s always baseball.

In the end? Hey. The A’s lose. Billy Beane is on the block. Who fires Brad Pitt? But the sport endures and tickets are sold and attendance is counted.

Somewhere, just beyond my infancy, baseball stole my heart. Didn’t change the course of my life. There have always been multiple paths. Many opportunities.

Moneyball.

I know baseball and I know moneyball. The season is long and attendance may depend on the weather and the availability of parking. Fans are drawn back to winning teams.

We’re building a fine stadium. How can you not be romantic about baseball?

Come visit.

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow, OK!