Column:

Finally, it's baseball season

Baseball means summer and summer means baseball.

By Mark Levitt

Published April 9, 2009

Students walked around campus Monday decked out in their pinstripes, ball caps and lucky baseball T-shirts. This week marked the 2009 Opening Week in Major League Baseball, and the diverse geography of MU was evident through the different colors of everybody's favorite teams.

The transition from the madness of March into the eternal hope of April is complete; the NCAA basketball national champions have been crowned, while the fans of 30 MLB teams are excited about a fresh start that is sure to lead to the season of a lifetime.

This truly is the greatest time of the year.

There is no denying football as America's money sport, even the most popular. But even today, with society craving fast-paced action as much as Mark Mangino craves a cheeseburger after a tough loss, the start of the baseball season is accompanied by a special feeling that can only be delivered by America's pastime.

Baseball means summer is just around the corner. Summer means playing outside and swimming pools and snow cones. Summer means a break from classes (or at least a full schedule of classes) and worries of carrying around a coat all day because you don't know when the temperature is going to drop again. Summer means home runs and fireworks and sleeping in.

Baseball means summer, and summer means baseball.

Baseball season gives sports fans something more important to worry about than their test the next day. A football team plays once a week, basketball maybe twice. But I can watch the Cardinals six out of every seven days (at least).

When Mom and Dad call us asking how class was, we can answer "I don't know" without lying to get out of a conversation because we truly weren't paying attention. Sorry Dad, I was following the game online. What do you mean you're not paying my tuition to ignore my teachers? Albert Pujols batting with two on and two out is significantly more important than whatever the fat man with the monotonous voice is saying in front of the class. Hell, he probably was listening to the game on the radio in his ear.

Awkward conversations with strangers disappear this time of the year. Instead of meeting someone and having nothing to say but "Hi, I'm a journalism major and you don't care," people can strike up conversations based on the baseball cap the other person is wearing.

"Oh, are you from Philadelphia? Congratulations on finally winning something last October. Do you think the joy of a championship will stop the fans from throwing batteries at players for a while now? No? OK, well, nice to meet you."

Rivalries give an acceptable outlet to release anger built up toward friends, teachers and MizzouWireless that you've kept inside. If you see a Cubs fan in the street, simply tackle him, rub his face in the dirt and destroy any memorabilia he has representing the Not-So-Lovable Losers. You'll feel better and the world will be a better place.

Most importantly, as corny, tacky and cliché as it is, baseball season connects us back to the people we love. It gives students a reason to get back into touch with friends from their respective homes. Baseball is an experience to be shared. After a particularly exciting game, sons and daughters call fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters and grandparents.

Baseball ties people together like no other staple in the U.S. And because of that, its title as our pastime has a long future.