Today is an awesome day. TMZ, Mr. Thomas Mark Zuniga, has graced us with a two-part guest post about baseball, and why he says it is the greatest sport of all time. Words have been spoken on The GBOAT about baseball, but TMZ brings in an entirely new viewpoint and perspective.
In fact, his viewpoint and perspective is why I like reading his blog. He grew up in Philadelphia, moved to Georgia, and after college (we graduated the same year. Exciting!) moved out to the West Coast. He has a great site where he talks about wandering around the West, some of his favorite TV shows, and also just his insight into life. Trust me when I say it is much more worth your time than any other TMZ in existence.
I grew up in the ripple rings of Philadelphia. Not to be confused with nipple rings, which also exist there. I was steeped in the grand Philadelphia sports tradition at an early age, and by “grand Philadelphia sports tradition,” I mean to say that I hated hockey, basketball, and football.
Ah, but baseball. Baseball was different.
My first baseball game took me across the Delaware River to Waterfront Park, home to the mighty Trenton Thunder. The Thunder was/were a farm team of the Red Sox, but now they’re New York Yankee property. I don’t really understand; it’d be like if you gave your firstborn son to that guy in class who always raised his hand.
Here’s what I remember from my first baseball game: does that guy on the loudspeakers have to talk so freaking much?, what the heck is a designated hitter?, and crying bitterly afterward because the Thunder lost.
I only cried twice as a kid, and both times involved baseball.
That last sentence isn’t technically true, but it sizzles up this post like some Randy Johnson chin music. I’ll tackle my other baseball cry session in a subsequent guest post at The GBOAT, but first, back to the pre-subsequent post.
Thunder games were great for some cheap thrills, but I couldn’t just rot in the minor leagues forever. It was time to graduate to the majors, and I couldn’t have picked a more lowly time to become a Phillies phan. The 90s were just dreadful for the Phils; I might as well have pulled for the Royals.
I was so innocent then. One night the Atlanta Braves were playing the Colorado Rockies, and I told my dad I was cheering for Atlanta. He scolded me and explained that cheering for the Braves was bad because they were in our division. My reaction?
But…but Atlanta is closer to us than Colorado. Be it Trenton, Philadelphia, or Atlanta, I just wanted to root for the team closest to my living room couch. What a brainless little baseball-loving boy I was.
Alas, I would learn. Despite moving to the dirty South at 12, I remained a phervent Phillies phan, and with the turn of the century, I finally witnessed a winning season—even playoff hunts that ultimately fell just short.
But then in 2007, the Phils finally broke that impossible playoff threshold, followed by their I-still-can’t-believe-it-actually-happened World Series championship in 2008. I can still hear Harry Kalas’s final call (and reenact the “Wheeler Shuffle”), still see Brad Lidge dropping to his knees after the closing strikeout.
My grandmother who usually goes to bed at 8 called me at midnight to celebrate with me. But celebrating at my home in Georgia wasn’t enough. So I drove 800 miles to Philadelphia the next morning and attended my team’s championship parade down Broad Street.
My 2008 was special and epic beyond words, and baseball was a big reason why.
It’s just a magical sport: those colorful uniforms and logos, the way infield dirt hugs outfield grass, and peanuts and crackerjack left on the ground for minimum wage workers to clean up.
And there was nothing like watching the lowly team with more losses than any other team in professional sports finally eclipse glory for just the second time in 125 years.
Baseball is the greatest sport of all-time.
Well—until my next guest post. Until then, pretend that statement is true. Just like how I only cried twice as a kid.
Is baseball indeed the greatest sport of all-time? Which team holds your devotion? Ever witness firsthand the glory of a championship parade?
Your Friend Joseph Craven Welcomes You To The GBOAT 
Thanks TMZ. It’s my new years resolution to watch 2000% more baseball this year and this post added to the excitement.
I would have to say that my allegeance falls with the Jays. However, with that said grade 3 me would be very disappointed in how little I have cared about them for many years.
I’ll be honest: I will wear the crap out of a Jays hat for no other reason than I like the colors/logo. I’m all about appearances.
Fun fact, but did you know the Phillies were also called the Blue Jays from 1943-48? I know, makes NO SENSE.
But yeah love me those colors as well.
Whoa, I didn’t know that. Awesome.
Fun fact: I don’t know Caleb McD, but I’ve totally stayed at his parents’ house! Yippee!
Sweet, glad my post could help thrust you into a year with 2000% more baseball!
Sounds like a freaking fantastic year ahead of you.
Last time I cried over sports was when the Braves lost game seven of the 1991 World Series. I was at game 4 of that series, and that was the last Braves game I ever went to. I sort of gave up on baseball after that.
I was at Bobby Cox’s last game in 2010. It was emotional. Then me and my friends drove all night back to Jackson and I went to work the next day after getting home at 4 am.
DEVOTION.
Born and raised a Braves fan, I loved that the Phillies sucked- all because of your fans. They were like those yappy little dogs that you can punt into outer space but can still hear yapping from beyond Jupiter- annoying as all get out. Now the Phillies are good and the fans are, hard to believe it’s possible, more annoying.
I say all this because deep down I still love baseball. Though I haven’t kept up with it since the heartbreak of the Braves losing the World Series to the Yankees, I still enjoy baseball for what it is- a twenty person game of catch.
Alas, every oppositional city’s fans are the worst. Don’t get me started on Braves fans and their tomahawking zombie chant.
God bless America.
Respect the chant.
And, out of curiousity, what on earth is your mascot? Logic might say a cheesesteak sandwich, but instead you have this weird purple guy.
Oh, God bless America indeed. Where else can we argue hours apart about the performance of two groups of people neither of us know personally? All in good fun, man.
I don’t get it.
I have memories of going to Dodger games and seeing the likes of Orel Hershiser, and Mike Piazza live and in person. Talk about epic.
But no, to answer your question. Baseball is about, eh, 4th on the totem pole.
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