Some of my earliest memories are me with my dad and sister at US Cellular Field (then Comiskey Park), gloves in hand, cheering on Frank Thomas, Carlos Lee, and all the other legends of my childhood. I remember going to Sox Fest and waiting hours for autographs, I remember flying all the way to Arizona to watch Spring Training games. And as I got older, my love of the game only got stronger. I cried REAL TEARS during Mark Buehrle's perfect game. Sometimes, when I'm having a bad day, I watch footage from the 05 World Series- no shame.
|Holding an AJ Pierzynski homerun ball because HELL YEAH|
When men say they love football, it's automatically accepted. They could know practically nothing about the game, but they don't have to. No one tests them, because it is socially accepted that men like sports and the sky is blue and the Earth is round.
|My dad, purveyor of all things MLB|
The point is, I'm sick of having to defend myself about liking baseball. I shouldn't have to list off facts to prove that I know something. I'm sick of people making jokes about women only liking sports for the eye candy. Because hey- I'm not blind. I know Ian Kinsler has a nice butt. But I also know my stuff about the game, and both of those things can be okay.
|Touring Nats Park with my sister|