By Emma Span
Yogi Berra as soon as stated: “If you come back to a fork within the street, take it.” yet for lifelong baseball aficionado Emma Span, it hasn’t continually been that straightforward. Now, during this successful selection of essays, Span chronicles her love of the game, from formative years pastime to full-blown obsession, from substantial holiday (becoming The Village Voice’s first employees activities reporter in years) to heartbreak (getting a crimson slip inside of a year). She recounts elbowing her solution to get a quote from Yankees captain Derek Jeter and anticipating Mets pitcher Pedro Martinez to place a few pants on for an interview. She actually provides her lifeblood to determine the Mets and hops a aircraft to Taiwan, domestic to possibly the most important focus of Yankees fanatics outdoor of the 5 boroughs. yet once you have laid off and being pressured to go away her press move at the back of, Span wonders if her ardour for the game will fade. hugely not likely. Baseball helped Span forge a long-lasting bond along with her father, hook up with overall strangers, and undergo even the hardest occasions. With a clean voice, a devastating wit, and an alarmingly encyclopedic wisdom of the game, Span deals a brand new point of view on America’s favourite pasttime—as a journalist, a baseball nerd, a daughter, and a fervent stay-until-the-last-out fan.
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Extra info for 90% of the Game Is Half Mental. And Other Tales From the Edge of Baseball Fandom
No,” he’ll say flatly. “The Red Sox were a nightmare—a disorder. Autumn itself was ruined because every year it was associated with the Sox’s horrific collapse—every single year. ” He wants to be able look at foliage without cringing in pain, he says. “Every year. Dashed expectations, bitterness and depression, an incredible amount of frustration—it’s a disease. I mean that, a disease. I mean … every single year. No. ” The Mets were actually enjoying more success than their crosstown rivals back then, in the prelude and aftermath of their 1986 World Series win.
Mets fans don’t want to win any less than anyone else, but they’re very rarely ashamed of being Mets fans … even if sometimes they’re ashamed of the Mets. I can’t actually call myself a Mets fan, since I haven’t been through the wringer enough with that team to earn the title—haven’t suffered enough, basically. And the one year they made it to the Series once I was old enough to pay attention, they were playing the Yankees. Of course I couldn’t root for them then, even though that meant trying halfheartedly to defend Roger Clemens.
It shouldn’t be hard for anyone who’s attended his or her share of games or been to a few sports bars to think of examples. ” it’s easy to look around, shrink down in my seat, and wonder if this is really a group of people I want to be even indirectly associated with. There are the suited businessmen at the Stadium who blather into their cellphones all night instead of watching the game, or that obese drunk at Shea who toppled onto an old woman sitting in the section below him a few years ago and fractured her spine.