2/1/2024 0 Comments Vox youtube baseball![]() Within a couple of days, I’d decided what I had to do: I plunked down $130 on MLB.TV’s virtual table and asked, politely, if they could please give me all of the baseball.Īnd so they did. There were wild pitches and fielding errors, and when the Sox won it was - at least for us fans - like the end of a great movie, where you hope they’re going to win but you don’t know if they can pull it off. The next night I turned it on again and the game went to 12 innings. The game started just after 7 pm, and to my delight, the Sox won easily, with a final score of 11-2. There were people scattered in the stands. They’d lost their previous three games, and thus had an inauspicious 0-3 record, but anything is possible. It was the Red Sox’s fourth game of the season, against the Tampa Bay Rays, at Fenway Park. On April 5, though, as a kind of experiment, I flicked on an evening game. And as a cradle Red Sox fan who’s lived in Brooklyn for 15 years, it’s hard to go see my team at the stadium. ![]() It takes commitment to follow the season, with games almost every day, each three or four hours long, time I normally don’t have. I hadn’t watched baseball consistently since college. I didn’t need one more thing added to the pile.īut now they were back in full force, and I felt a familiar pull. ![]() I meant to watch the shortened season last summer, but when it launched I realized it made me too sad to watch players in empty stadiums ( clever solutions notwithstanding). This year it was back for the full season, April 1 to October 3, 30 teams, 162 games. The 2020 season had been truncated, axed to half-length by the same damn pandemic that cut everything short. In early April, my Twitter feed was suddenly alight with friends celebrating yet another holiday we missed last year: Major League Baseball’s cheerful springtime opening day. And like everyone, I felt uneasy about the unknown future.īut it took a while for me to realize what was really going on. I was sad and worried about friendships strained by distance. I’d been writing and teaching all year, trying to act like my work life was normal. I knew some of it was simply the weight of my world crashing down on my head. “I cannot,” I announced to my husband one night, after dinner, in a spasm of desperation - “I simply cannot watch anything else.” I could read a book, of course, or watch television, but during this awful year, those have been my choices every night: watch something on my TV or read a book. This is not a great position to find yourself in if what you do for a living is write about movies. Suddenly, I didn’t ever want to watch a movie, ever again. But at the end of this past March, I couldn’t think of any. There are a million things worse than watching a movie on a Monday night.
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