Don?t get me wrong, I?m a football guy.
But when it comes to relationships, nothing better reflects the day-in, day-out labor of love than America?s National Pastime.
And no, I?m not talking about that childish “which base are you on?” baseball conversation many have had referring the opposite sex. I am talking about riding the highest of highs and the lowest of lows on a daily basis, just like checking the standings each morning. I swear I have had a girlfriend ? or two ? in my day.
Whatever your preference is ? man, woman, designated hitter ? it doesn?t matter. My analogy applies across all boundaries and baselines.
Start with spring training, when hope and new relationships spring eternal.
Being a lifelong Milwaukee Brewers fan, I have low standards on and off the field.
When pitchers and catchers report, it?s like a roommate introducing you to his cute friend. The relationship starts off well ? even if you force yourself to see past all the warts or warning signs.
You tell yourself: “It?s going to work.”
Before long, you?re convincing yourself of things like “Russell Branyan can hit .300 and be an everyday third baseman” and that your newfound love?s laugh “isn?t completely annoying.”
And things start off hot.
You can?t get enough of each other, and you don?t mind paying for dinner or drinks ? and your favorite team starts the season by winning eight of 10.
Then comes the dog days of summer.
Your team hasn?t had a quality start in two weeks and you begin to fight with your girlfriend when she quips “why do you play so many video games?” and “You can?t wear that shirt again.”
The wheels are coming off. Fast.
Enter the classic “bad relationship.”
You know, the one where you can?t even decide where to eat, let alone if you should move in together, as you ponder why your team?s manager moved his No. 3 starter who is 8-2 into the bullpen.
Each day is a drag. Seeing your girlfriend is just like looking at the standings ? a constant, nagging reminder of unhappiness. Sure, there are the good times: a walk-off home run, that time you went to the beach together, one of your players making the All-Star Game or a romantic night on the town.
But at some point, you realize your All-Star was Jeromy Burnitz or Dave Nilsson. And the only reason you had fun at the beach was because you spent more time in the bar than on the sand.
Just like September for last-place teams, the home stretch of a terrible relationship is the worst.
You just can?t wait for it to be over.
The lineup starts filling up with minor league players and you start flirting with new prospects. Ultimately, it ends bitterly and mercifully. And your best friend ? you know, the Yankees fan who has the perfect relationship and $200 million payroll ? tells you there are more fish in the sea and there?s always next year.
Thanks.
But there is a flip side.
Your team picks up a solid starting pitcher at the trade deadline. You have multiple All-Stars, who are all deserving. Before you know it, the playoffs are here and you are engaged to the love of your life. You have no idea how you got there, just knowing the ride has been long and fantastic and you wouldn?t trade her for Eva Mendes, Jessica Simpson or a supermodel to be named later.
Then, there are the lucky few who have found “The One,” just like when your team completes a magical season by winning the World Series. For some reason, the players who annoyed you for 162 games no longer bother you ? and neither does that laugh. Your fiancé no longer cares if you spend the whole weekend dominating Madden2008.
I recently proposed this theory to a friend who is a Phillies fan living with his girlfriend, and he nodded as I explained my rationale. He was still reeling from his team dropping three straight heartbreakers to the Mets to close a four-game series.
“After we beat the Mets, I couldn?t have been happier Saturday morning,” he said. “But after the past three days, I?m sleeping on the couch.”
Dave Carey covers professional, college and high school sports. He can be reached at [email protected]
