A Baseball Fan

I am a lifelong fan of the Cincinnati Reds. In 1991, I married a fan of the Boston Red Sox. Because of "The Curse" I felt confident that our divergent loyalties would pose no problems for our relationship. I just had to remember to keep any mention of the name Buckner to a minimum. The Big Red Machine of the early to mid 70s made it easy for a young boy who loved baseball to choose a favorite team. I felt a bit like a traitor when I was selected to the Expos for my local little-league team. I tried to become an Expos fan, but they never gave me a reason to make the switch. I remained and continue to be a devoted fan of the Reds.

My loyalty continues in good years and bad. There is no way I can compare myself to Chicago Cubs fans and the "maybe next year" phenomenon that occurs every July. Anyone from Chicago can probably tell you the exact number of years since they won a World Series, but I am pretty sure it's now more than a century. I obviously lack the patience of Cubs fans but after more than a decade of Reds' futility, I was relieved to cheer as they enjoyed success during the 1990 season. During that year, Paul O'Neill cemented his status among my favorite all-time Reds. Their four-game sweep of the heavily favored Oakland A's reenergized my faith that good times were here again.

Well, they weren't. At least not for the Reds and their fans. When the Reds shipped O'Neill to the Yankees after the 1992 season, I felt abandoned by their management as it appeared they would do anything just to save some money.  So as the Reds continued to experience futility I looked for a way to be true to the Reds but remain invested in the baseball season. As a Reds fan there was no way that I could root for any other National League team. Then it occurred to me, I could easily root for Paul O'Neill. He continued to be my favorite player in the league and it was only natural for me to continue to hope for his success. I saw it as an added bonus that he played for a team that would likely keep my interest into the playoffs and probably the World Series.

Now, I have a problem. When I root for the Yankees during a playoff or a World Series you can feel the tension in the house. My wife fails to comprehend how her husband, someone she had made a deliberate choice to love, could possess such a fatal and tragic flaw as being willing to root for the New York Yankees. She cut me some slack until 2001 when O'Neill retired. Now my Yankee affinity represents pure evil that has invaded her home.

So as baseball season is about to begin I have one hope for marital harmony.

Go Reds!
No Cap, No Glove





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