When it comes to Major League Baseball I feel like a loving wife that has a husband who beats her, but I keep coming back becomes I know somewhere down deep he really loves me. I'll go back to the beginning and chronicle my love/hate relationship with baseball.
- My dad started my love of baseball, I remember as a kid he would take me to Texas Ranger games.
- I then began to collect baseball cards and I didn't stop for many years and many cards later, still have them actually.
- My cousin Marky gave me my first cards, I still hold on to them.
- My favorite player was Pete Rose as a kid. Why? My dad was a Red's fan since he was a kid, I saw Rose play hard, dive head first, break records hitting records. I began to collect every card with Charlie Hustle(for those MLB haters that's Pete Roses' nickname) on it.
- Rose then breaks my heart and is caught gambling. My first heartbreak.
- I then chose Nolan Ryan to be my hero, and I picked a good one.
- My dad and I continued to go to games together, one of my favorite things to do, baseball with dad.
- Then heartbreak #2 the players strike. Greed.
- After the strike I followed the MLB still but at a distance.
- I moved to St. Pete FL and lived 2 miles from Tropicana Field and the Devil Rays. I was back in love. Dad would come up and we enjoyed watching the d-rays lose as Yankee and Red Sox fans cheered.
- Last week the Mitchell Report, heartbreak #3. Greed again, illegal drugs to get an edge.
Should I go back to MLB?
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