I LOVE BASEBALL AGAIN

A CAJUN AND A THREE-DAY FLIGHT
July 28, 2018
TPR Director search down to 4
July 29, 2018
A CAJUN AND A THREE-DAY FLIGHT
July 28, 2018
TPR Director search down to 4
July 29, 2018

A 9-year-old version of myself moved from the parlor floor to the kitchen in a dead sprint at the sound of the microwave alarm.


I don’t remember the exact date, but it was during the summer, surely, and the setting was at my late grandfather’s house in Galliano. It could have been any date, honestly. This didn’t happen just once.

The alarm meant my frozen pizza was ready and I was hungry after a day of swimming in the family’s pool.

So I’d mad dash up from the parlor, through the snack bar and to the back-left corner of the kitchen where the microwave sat. I’d pick up the pizza on an instant, damn-near scolding my hands in the process, while bringing it back to the parlor.


Five minutes later, my cousin Scotty did the same — it was his turn to run the 60-foot dash from parlor to TV and then back.

My grandpa, the late Leroy Doucet, sat in the parlor on a recliner — his feet up and the TV remote in the chest pocket of his button-down shirt.

Normally, running in this house was frowned upon, but in this instance, an


exception was made.

The Atlanta Braves game was on and we didn’t want to miss a single pitch of the action while getting our food.

As a child, I loved baseball.


The Braves were huge part of my childhood, because of how available they were with their national contract with TBS.

During the school year, I’d watch as often as time would allow.

But during the summer, I’d watch religiously — every, single night — even when the Braves were on the West Coast.


The particular story I shared was one of many nights I’d spent at my grandfather’s. He, also, was a huge fan of baseball, and he helped plant that seed in me, too, during the time we shared on earth.

But truthfully, this tale could have been told anywhere in my childhood, because no matter where I’d go, the Braves’ game wouldn’t be too far away.

My love for baseball lasted about the first 10-12 years of my life. It was unrelenting and constant. I remember doodling notes in a notebook of lineup possibilities and stats. (It’s not difficult to see why I became a Sports Writer, eh?)


But around junior high, it started to fizzle. I’d still watch, but basketball became the new King for me. In high school, it was the same, but in college, baseball really lost my attention.

By the time I reached adulthood, I didn’t watch at all.

Admittedly, some of this was because the Braves had stumbled from their perch and into mediocrity, but a lot of it was because the sport was slow and stale.


Steroid regulation had changed the game and the guys on the field playing didn’t look as Herculean to me as they once did. Scores plummeted and action had been sapped from the game that I once loved.

This period of complacency lasted for a good 5-6 years and millions of Americans came with me. It’s long been chronicled that the sport’s popularity has dropped over the past decade.

But this year, I decided to give the sport another try and I’m happy to report — I’m hooked again and it’s worse than ever before.


The sport of baseball is better now than it’s been in a long, long time because of an influx of young players who are re-writing the sport’s history.

Mike Trout is the best player I have seen in my lifetime. That guy is absolutely unbelievable. Not far behind are guys like Jose Altuve, Mookie Betts, Nolan Arenado, J.D. Martinez — the list goes on and on.

Combine their greatness with innovation changes to make the game more exciting and I am as huge a fan as I’ve ever been.


I love that teams are using relief pitchers to start games. I love that there are two Wild Cards now, which gives more teams a chance to chase the postseason.

Oh yeah — I also love that we have replay, though I hate that they still have the nerve to look at the play 100 times on TV, then still get it wrong.

And selfishly, I love my Atlanta Braves.


The energy and passion which this year’s version of the Braves’ plays with has sucked me right back into the fold and I am now an MLB.TV subscriber and a watcher of at least 15-20 games a month, as time allows.

Atlanta wasn’t supposed to thrive this year, but their new wave of minor league talent is far exceeding expectations and projections.

And their just fun to watch.


Ozzie Albies and Ronald Acuna are like cotton candy flavored lightning. Watching them can make you hyper, but come with a huge boom.

Freddie Freeman is a marksman and Nick Markakis is the skilled master of his craft.

I don’t know if this year’s Braves team is talented enough to chase the World Series, but I do know it’s fun to watch them mature and grow up together.


In the future, they will contend and thrive.

And I will be there to watch it.

I took a break from baseball, but it didn’t last long.


There are no more frozen pizzas. My cholesterol is too high. And I can’t run as fast as I used to from Point A to Point B.

But we still do everything we can to not miss a pitch.

That never changes — even though more than 20 years have passed.


‘l took a break from baseball, but it didn’t last long.’

I LOVE BASEBALL AGAINI LOVE BASEBALL AGAIN