Opening Day!

This afternoon, at 2:05 PM EDT, my stepson Mathew and I will be seated within the walls of  Fenway Park in Boston to attend the home opener for our beloved Boston Red Sox.

The season hasn’t started well for the Sox, with six games played and six games lost in both Texas and Cleveland.  Today, they’ll be playing the dreaded New York Yankees: our American League Eastern conference rivals, who have won four of the six games that they’ve played.

I have a confession to make to you, fellow runners: something that will shock most of you, and make many of you in Red Sox Nation thrash, weep and lament the day you ever subscribed to this goofy little podcast.

Therefore, in sympathy for the weak of heart; I beg you to stop the audio flow of what you’re listening to right now: cease the playback, rip out your ear buds, throw your iPod to the floor and quickly step away from your MP3 player or computer…because what I’m about to say will rock the very foundation of everything you’ve come to know about Steve Runner.

Here it goes, you’ve been warned.

I, Stephen “Runner” Walker, being of both sound mind and body, do hereby solemnly affirm that I believe that the American League baseball team known as the New York Yankees is, in fact, a great ball club.

Hold on, it gets worse:

And regardless of anything I have or will most certain say and write about that particular organization of athletes; the TRUTH as I understand it is;

This is where it gets all wacky-scary-apocalyptic for you to hear:

That I actually appreciate the Yankees.  I dislike them, to be sure…I mean: they ARE the Yankee’s and I am a Red Sox fan after all…but it would be wrong of me not to acknowledge their great talent, and admit that they are, in fact, a really good baseball team.

You see, I love the game of baseball even more than I love any particular team. 

I love the pace and tempo of the game, and the rules and strategy of the play. 

I love the atmosphere of the ball park and the green pastures of the baseball field.  I love the traditions of the sport, the legendary athletes who have played the game over the past one hundred and sixty years. 

I love how anything can happen, and will happen during the nine or more innings of an official game.  I love that you can always have hope up to the very last inning and the very last strike. 

I love the taste of a cold beer a hot dog and a bag of peanuts at the park.  I love the way the crowd cheers, groans, and sings in unison…echoing the sentiment and emotions of every fan of the team.  

More than anything, I love being with friends at the ball park, or even watching the game on TV or listening on the radio. 

Most of all, I love to watch a game with my son, John Michael. 

When John and I are at the ball park, or even watching the game on TV at home, we are having an experience: together, father and son. 

It brings us back to when he was ten years old and playing little league baseball in Oxford.  I went to every game, and cheered for him no matter how he did: some days he did well, once even winning the game for his team: other times, he didn’t even get on base and missed a few fly balls in the outfield.  I experienced his agony and ecstasy watching those games….I was there to celebrate the good games, and cheer him up after the bad ones.  In turn, I knew how it felt to be that ball player, in left field with the ball coming at you and no where to run.  Sometimes I caught the ball, sometimes I didn’t…but either way I was there, and I experienced the game.

Because baseball, of course, is just another analogy for life…just as running a road race is.  We come to the game innocent and hopeful.  Sometimes things don’t go our way, and deep depression sets in.  We consider our misfortunes unfair, unjust and unkind.  There are other times when, without notice: the bases are loaded and one of our guys hits a ball right out of the park…no easy feat over that green monster in left field…but our fortunes can turn and the feeling of joy can be ecstatic. 

I don’t know what will happen in today’s game; but I do know that Matt and I will experience the agony and ecstasy in person: with thirty-six thousand other baseball fans: and win, or lose we’re going to experience a great ball game between two great teams.

I love baseball because of the diversion it gives us from the slings and arrows of the real world; and I even appreciate rival teams like the Yankees who challenge our boys of summer to perform to the top of their game.

Play ball!

Steve