Moss, is humor writer from Tennessee. She writes a
weekly human interest column about daily life and the funny
things that happen to everyone.
She has written for the Daily News of Kingsport, Griffin Journal,
Oakridge Now, Atlanta Woman Magazine, Aberdeen Examiner, Angleton
Advocate, and Smyrna AM, a supplement of the Murfreesboro Daily News
Journal. She has been
published by Voyageur Press, McGraw Hill, and the good folks
at Guidepost Books. Her articles have appeared in
numerous anthologies and other publications, both in print and online.
She is a
former board member and past Editor of the Columnists.com, website of the National Society of Newspaper
oldest and largest professional organization
for columnists. She is the Web Editor of
Humorists.com and a founder of the Southern Humorists writers'
organization. She is writer, editor, and webmaster of HumorColumnist.com.
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Online Since 1999
might not be so bad if it was a once in a while thing, or even a
once a week thing. But, no, it's an everyday thing, every single
blasted day. It might not be so bad if both of us liked
baseball; but, only one of us likes sports, and that one isn't
me. It might not be so bad if it was a team that I was remotely
interested in; but, no, it's a team that I don't give a whit
about and can't seem to learn to love.
Remember when pirates were swash-buckling buccaneers, looking
for sunken treasure, sword fighting on the high seas, sporting
hooks for hands and patches over missing eyes? Now Pirates are
ball players, in black baseball caps and jersey suits with nary
a bandana or gold hoop earring in sight.
My honey is from Pittsburgh, as he will tell you within 10
minutes if you ever meet him. That means, of course, that he is
a Pirates fan. He eats and breathes Pirates, and not the "Argh,
shiver-me-timbers" kind. My living room is a mini ballpark.
We have a game on the big screen every night, and Pirates by the
dozens of the baseball variety sprint through.
"Why do you have to watch it every night?" I ask,
thinking we might enjoy watching a real program for a change,
one that doesn't have screaming announcers, one that doesn't
last nine innings, one that isn't about Pittsburgh.
"It's not on every night," he growls.
I suppose they do have a night off on occasion, but it sure
seems like every night when the game is in the middle of the
living room and you are practically standing on the pitcher's
"Couldn't we watch something else?"
"I have to pay extra for the sports package!" he says,
as if that resolves the matter.
Male logic makes no sense to me. Just because you pay extra does
that mean you have to watch every game? "If you pay extra
for a movie channel, would you watch every movie to get your
This week it has been the Pirates vs. Cardinals series. Did I
mention that I used to be from St. Louis? It's okay, though, I
recovered and no longer have to be a Cardinals fan just because
I once lived in St. Louis.
Baseball isn't the same on television. It's virtual reality,
passive participation. You have to be there in the baseball park
with the crowd screaming and beer being spilled down your back
before you can be a real baseball fan.
By, the way, do you know why they call them fans? It is short
for fanatic. Just thought I would throw that in. No extra
Maybe if we lived where there was the remote possibility of
actually attending a game, I could develop an interest. Maybe we
could fly there and go to a game, you say? You have got to be
kidding! I have enough Pirates in the living room now, thanks,
without seeking them out.
Aren't all baseball games pretty much the same, nine men, three
strikes, nine innings. Honey will say they are all different.
Not different enough in my book.
And this Z thing with the thumbs that Pirate fans do? He tried
to explain it to me. I don't get it.
Well, the Pirates are winning again. I suppose I'm destined to
be a baseball widow as long as the baseball season lasts. At
least I have the computer and
small TV in the bedroom.
There is one thing I am happy about. We are not flying the Jolly
Roger from a flagpole in front of our house, at least not yet.
Copyright 2013 Sheila Moss
Nashville, TN 37219
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