Wasting away.

I've been in front of my computer for the last two hours, sitting in the wasteland that is the Cubs Virtual Waiting Room, anxious for the chance to buy single-game tickets for Wrigley.

And, while I should probably be sleeping or running errands, I'm using the fact that I'm chained to my computer (and my parents computer, also hanging out in the waiting room) as motivation to write these support letters I've been putting off.

That's not exactly getting done, as I'm constantly distracted -- as in, twice every 30 seconds, when the browser on each computer refreshes -- and eager to JUST GET TICKETS.

I need them. As in physically. I think it will kill me if I don't get to as many games as humanly possible before I leave for Africa in June. Cubs games are -- Wrigley is -- so deeply engrained into my perception and experience of the flowing of Spring (Training) to Summer to Fall (Classic)... I would be lost without at least a couple visits to The Cathedral of Baseball.

I tried to explain it to my puppy, Nike (this is who I have to talk to during the day), but I couldn't do much more than rave about the hotdogs. Our common ground is limited. This is only natural, seeing as how are taxonomy is so very different.

Am I talking about taxonomy? This post is about baseball.

I love it. Love it. It may (in a very I'm-not-even-close-to-being-serious-way) rival my love for God. I confess it sometimes distracts from it.

It's not just the game. (But, oh, I LOVE the game.) It's the crack of a bat. That unmatched snap a glove makes when you catch the ball right. The Friendly Confines. Chilling lake winds in April. The smell of the freshly-cut grass in June. Sweating through August (by then, more for climate reasons than for any sort of postseason hopes). Pat and Ron on the radio. Hot dogs. Wrigleyville. The attendance game. The old scoreboard. Ron's dog from Canada that won't listen to him because it only speaks French. Souvenir cups. The flagpoles. Falling chunks of concrete. Keeping a scorecard.

I could go on forever.