Hey King,

Compelling topic. I'll chime in with my experience this post season. Watching my kids bitch and moan and finally relent to me commandeering the TV 5 nights out of 7 for over a month, I've been thinking of my introduction to baseball as a youngster.

As a kid growing up in Spokane, WA in the 70's and 80's, there was a sort of magic that spilled out of my dad and my grandad when they told stories of seeing Tommy Lasorda, Steve Garvey, Bobby Valentine, Davey Lopes and countless other Dodger starters weeks, days--even hours--before they were called up to LA. These tales accompanied every trip we made to our AAA Indians stadium (always night games btw), and lightened the mood as we sat depressed in front of my grandparents' TV watching Reggie and the Yankees kick Dodger-blue ass.

Obviously, as a fellow west coaster, time wasn't an issue. But, it was during this ritual that I became a baseball fan. I would say that, by far, the most important factor leading to my love of baseball was the way it was shared with me by these two men.

The final step in my journey to hard core fan-hood was living in Boston. I went to school in the Back Bay and lived in the metro area for six years. The first MLB game I ever saw was in Boston and I spent dozens of afternoons and evenings in Fenway while I was there. My time there coincided with the Griffey's arrival in Seattle and the Mariner's first winning season. So my bi-coastal loyalties were fired simultaneously. But none of this would have mattered, I think, if not for the passionate introduction to the game provided by my family.

With the Sox in the series these past few years I've had to explain to my kids why they can't watch Disney channel EVERY night through October. They. Are. Pissed.

But, this year both my 9 year old daughter and my 6 year old son haven't left the room to do something else; they sit with me and ask questions and make jokes (my son especially likes when I reply to his scream of "I hate the Red Sox" with the matter of fact statement, "Well, then I'll be finding a new home for you tomorrow.")

Not only do they ask about baseball itself (it's rules and so forth), but they ask, "where did you sit in Fenway Park? [everywhere--mostly bleachers]; could you walk there? [yes, for three of the six years]; did they go to the World Series when you lived there? [no comment]; do you like them because they're the best team, or because they're from Boston? [the latter]."

They're becoming fans because they see that I value the experience of watching and cheering for "my team", be it the Red Sox, or the Mariners, or the Dodgers, or Portland's AAA Beavers. Time isn't a factor.

Level of play isn't even a factor, it turns out: like me, my daughter's interest in baseball goes back to Spokane. The first time she spent several days alone with her grandparents, my mom and dad and their best friends took her to see her first game; a single A Spokane Indians game. And, even at 6 years old, it was her favorite part of the trip. Of course she was mostly stoked by the sodas and the cotton candy and the peanuts, but as we fans know those are just the gateway drugs to double-plays and second-guessing a call to the bullpen!

As long as WE are baseball fans, and we share that with the people we love, there will be baseball fans. Day games, night games; DH, or no DH (btw, I'm beginning to think the NL should make the switch!)

Overly sentimental? Abso-fucking-lutely! But true as a Papelbon fastball. Happy off-season everyone!

I'm sorry, Rebecca. I generally enjoy your contributions [sometimes even when I disagree], and I have never written a letter without reading the whole article before...EVER! Until now. Did Salon's editors think we wouldn't notice that Bill Clinton isn't included in your photo composite? Seriously.

IF it's an issue at all (and that's a huge IF!) then Bill should be front and center with the rest of them. Perhaps his omission is proof positive that this article is a waste of time?

I await the general consensus before devoting any more of my life units on this particular essay.

Hey, Salon--can you return to ELEVATING the level of discourse?

Thanks,