People frequently wonder if I was a baseball fan before I met Mat. Part of progress in life is recognizing where you’ve been and appreciating where you are now so in the grand tradition of my honesty, here we go again.
I will not say that I never attended any MLB games because that is false. I attended Saint Mary’s College in Moraga, California. That probably means nothing to you as it is a small Catholic school and Moraga hardly exists on a map. Here’s the geography lesson you didn’t ask for- Moraga is a little hidden gem in the east bay. Now, the bay area is lucky enough to have two teams close by, the A’s and the Giants. This is the part where I admit that I did indeed hop on a party bus or 7 from my college campus to “watch” these teams but to say that I actually watched the games is seriously pushing it. I was one of those, “Go for the social scene, get bored in 2 seconds, and leave in the 6th inning” people. Is that still a thing?
With that being said, before Mat and I really spent any actual time together on our own, I had this crazy panic attack where I realized that I knew absolutely nothing about baseball…so how on earth am I going to have a conversation with him?! Certainly plain english and normal subject matter would never do! Like the genius that I am, I get on Facebook and send my good friend Jenna a message that read something like, “Dude. I am hanging out with this guy I met who plays baseball and I know absolutely NOTHING. No time for questions. Is there like a “Baseball for Dummies” book or something? Can you ask James (her boyfriend) to make a list of the general things I should know about? Should I know about this stuff?!”. Yeah. See- I acted like I didn’t care for a really long time because I thought I was keeping a wall up to protect myself from a big bad baseball player but look how gross that message is. Just look.
WHO PANICS OVER NOT KNOWING ABOUT WHAT A GUY DOES FOR A LIVING? I do. I wish I could really explain how much of a psychopath I was in the 2 years of my life in which I decided to be single under any and all circumstances. To give you an idea, there’s a fancy little song called, “Boys Don’t Matter” by LoveSick Radio. Check it out. I’m pretty sure I sang that at the top of my lungs with my friend Nicolette (who had also vowed to never have a “boyfriend”) about 359 thousand times in a single summer. I. Was. Serious. Now, if you’ve ever felt as strongly as I did about keeping people out of your heart, you better just never talk to anyone, ever. I don’t even know how Mat did it but that little trickster turned me into a softy in a matter of like a week. GROSS. (I imagine it was the fact that he knew how to make me laugh and smile and keep me on my toes all at once). Now I’m having all of these gross thoughts about how much I love him… ew. SICK. Cooties. We need to change the subject.
Moving right along, all of my attempts to learn about the game of baseball were a really silly waste of time. James did indeed send me some baseball 101 messages. I read them at least twice but then remembered that I absolutely suck at lying. In my usual fashion, I just confessed my lack of knowledge and Mat was some kind of amused by it. Looking back, I don’t think we even talked about baseball until he asked me to come to spring training with him that year.
My first spring training was awkward. I mostly sat in the stands by myself wearing all black and not talking to anyone (it’s a bad habit that I mean nothing by). Most of the wives and girlfriends of other players weren’t really amused by that. Some had seen my Twitter. Some knew of a certain photo that ended up on blogs and what not. I was the weirdo. It is what it was. However, the great part of that spring training was that I asked Mat and his friends about 49085539864 baseball related questions after every game. No, I am not exaggerating AT ALL. I was determined to understand the game I was going to spend countless hours watching. Slowly but surely, I got a general understanding of the sport and started to like it. In no time at all, I met a group of nerdy baseball friends who know practically everything about the game (love you guys, and Jodi). My asking questions has never really stopped. My being a “fan” is now absolutely out of control. If you think I’m kidding, I typically don’t even watch games in the family section in fear of what may accidentally come out of my mouth. (“Nerdy baseball friends” (and Jodi), this is the part where you remember the good times at “the spot” and laugh. Everyone else, just continue wondering what I’m talking about. Tequila!).
To make a long story long: No, I was not a baseball fan before I met Mat but now I think I may have issues.
Baseball Anonymous, sign me up.
p.s. That song is on an album called “Heartbreak 4 Dummies” if you ever need to get your girly angst out.