Introduction: So, What Is This?

I have a confession to make.  I love baseball.  I love baseball in that way that only people who truly love baseball do, which is to say, that I love the feel of baseball.  It's not just the changing of the season, though that's a huge part of it.  It's the memories that baseball conjures up, it's the sensation of hearing a baseball hit a glove, and the roar of the crowd.  As corny as that sounds, it's the stuff that I live for, because, and I think I've said this already, I love baseball.

I have another confession to make.  As I've grown older, I have fallen out of love with baseball.  Not because the game doesn't still touch my heart, but because when you have kids and a big person job and "responsibilities" it becomes harder and harder to dedicate the time to baseball that I did when I was younger.  Last season, as my beloved Red Sox were falling apart, I was pushing the game away.  The idea of dedicating hundreds of hours of my life to anything seemed impossible to me, and for that reason by the end of the 2014 season I was barely paying attention to baseball.

But here's the thing.  Some of the best memories of my life involve baseball, and probably more importantly, baseball and my Dad.  When I was younger my Father, who was a truck driver, would take me out on his route on Saturday.  Listening to Joe Castiglione and Jerry Trupiano call Red Sox games on those Saturday afternoons with my Father remain some of the most cherished memories that I have.

Joe Castiglione sparked my love of baseball

I remember going to a card collectors show with my Father and getting Marty Barrett's autograph.  At the time that felt like the most important moment of my life.  I mean, I met THE Marty Barrett (lifetime 18 home runs).  I still have my breath taken away when I walk out of the tunnel and into Fenway Park.  I remember sitting in the bleachers when John Valentine turned an unassisted triple play, when Curt Schilling made his Fenway Park debut on Easter Sunday, and waiting out a 4 hour rain delay to see John Lester make his Fenway Park debut.  I sat in awe, every fifth day as Pedro Martinez spun magic.  I can still see Izzy Alcantra kicking that catcher in the chest, and Jody Reed's mustache.  I remember sleeping in the backseat of my Uncle's car as he drove us to Cooperstown on what, at the time, felt like the longest drive of my life.

The point is this, I love baseball.  I never necessarily loved winning baseball.  I just love baseball.  Baseball is important to me, and it's important to my relationship with my Father.  I now have two young sons.  I've brought my oldest (3 yrs. old) to Fenway Park and I plan on bringing my youngest soon.  I don't want to lose touch with baseball.  I want baseball to connect me with my kids the way that it connected me to my Father.

So I'm going back to square one.  I fell in love with baseball on the radio and now I'm returning to it. With help of the MLB At Bat app, I'll be listening not just to the Red Sox, but to everything, and, because it's 2015 I'll be using this space to talk about it.  I don't know what aspect of baseball I'll be talking about, but as the season progresses I'll be adding and updated my thoughts about everything, especially, and specifically, about how Baseball on the Radio has impacted my relationship with America's past time.