Summer and I don’t get along. I get cranky in heat and humidity, I don’t like having to sit in air conditioning, I can’t standing being in a hot room without air conditioning, I don’t like bugs and too much time in the sun makes me dizzy.
But I live for summer, and that’s almost entirely because of baseball. Most of my favorite memories in the summer involve either some form of the national game or screaming my brains out at a concert. But Pearl Jam isn’t on tour this summer. So baseball will have to do. Luckily, living in Massachusetts, I’m never too far from a game.
The desire to catch a game, though, had been lower than any summer in recent memory. Continue reading