[Dodoubled]

True, true. I do still enjoy going to the games for all the cool things to do. The new Phillies ballpark is sweet. I could do without the six-dollar beers, but I suppose that's just the price of convenience these days. I still can go through five or six without a problem, hop on the subway and be at another bar in minutes after the game.

And, every now and then, some great things do happen. I saw several walk-off home runs two years ago as well as an inside-the-park home run, and three years ago, I remember heading to Veterans Stadium one day by myself because I was bored on a nice, balmy Sunday, purchasing a 700 level seat and proceeding to watch Kevin Millwood throw a no-hitter. (I made sure to call ALL the friends who earlier in the day had told me they were too busy with "yard work" to come to the game.)

There are plenty of great things about baseball that will keep people coming back. I just think that over the past several years, it committed the ultimate sin -- cheapening its past for the sake of its present. In other words, selling out the one thing on which baseball has relied: its tradition, unparalled by any other sport. And no matter what Kenesaw Mountain Landis or A. Bartlett Giamatti may have implied, that's more damaging than any Series fixing scandal or Pete Rose betting debacle can ever be.
Like any other baseball fan, I was on the edge of my seat for the HR chase in '98, and even looked at Sosa and a select few others as sure-fire Hall of Famers. Now, I don't even know who to root for. I can make some broad-based assumptions, but then again, that's all they are.

I still play fantasy baseball and enjoy it -- at least until late July when the grind gets really, really tough.

I grew up a Yankees fan, but by the time they lost the Series in 2001, I had gotten so sick of seeing them win that I actually was glad to see Arizona beat them. I root for the Phillies now because they seem pure, at least on the surface.

As the years go on, I wonder if the last, great innocent moment in baseball was seeing Ripken circle Camden Yards after breaking The Streak. Contrived as it may have been, a 22-minute standing ovation is still a 22-minute standing ovation. And, steriods or not, seeing Bonds rip that home run in the 2002 Series against Anaheim into the night sky and seeing the camera catch Tim Salmon mouth, "THAT IS THE FARTHEST BALL I HAVE EVER SEEN HIT" was downright awesome.

"The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It's been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and that could be again. Oh, people will come, Ray. People will most definitely come."

I'd like to see it happen again, Terrence. Unfortunately, it's going to take more than a cornfield ballpark to get the magic back.