Strike Out. . .

As a child, I was a huge baseball fan. I collected the cards. I read all the stats. I kept a record of how well my favourite players were doing. Going to the Exhibition Stadium (yes, I'm that old) was a really big event for me. In the summer, I'd occasionally attempt something vaguely considered playing baseball with my friends (the unathletically blessed can only do something that resembles playing). Other times, I was making a Major League Baseball season with one of my friends on the old Sega Master System. This was before the high tech games now, so we had to record all our own stats and our own league standings. Yes, that made us geeks, but we didn't care. Because we both really liked baseball.

I don't even know who won the World Series this year. I didn't watch a single game. The saddest part, I don't care at all. My childhood past time is officially dead. It has been dead ever since the strike of '95. In 1995, Major League Baseball was heading towards one of its best seasons ever. The Montreal Expos were on the verge of being the breakthrough team of the decade. Then greed got in the way and a strike stopped the World Series from happening. It's sad that two World Wars couldn't stop the World Series but the need for money sure can.

This year it looks like a strike will stop the Stanley Cup from coming about. The older I get, the more bitter I become towards professional sports. It is becoming a money game. It's becoming about greed. It gets harder and harder to just sit down and enjoy the sports anymore.

Times like this, I wish I could just be a boy again.