Baseball and I are on a break

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Unlike many folks, my baseball fandom does not span the entirety of my life. The first team I ever truly paid attention to was the 2009 squad and when that ended with a stroll down the Canyon of Heroes I finally understood what the hype was all about. Before that, I was just a kid in college trying to fit in with my friends who were sports fans and chose the Yankees as “my” team to root for thanks to some familial loyalty.

I still remember that rush when the final out was recorded. I achieved nothing

but I felt a high I didn’t think I’d ever come down from. I decided sports were my thing and went all in. “But Kunj, baseball is boring!” Yeah, to some folks it is but it never was to me. I had fallen in love with David Robertson (hey Cashman, your bullpen is falling apart and he’s hanging out at home; maybe capitalize on that rumor) by then. But since then, I was as invested as ever.

I never successfully watched all 162 games of the regular season; life happens, but I still knew everything that happened in the games I watched and the games I didn’t. What started out as a kid trying to fit in with his friends, suddenly their casual baseball fandom wasn’t enough. I went searching for a deeper level of fandom and found Pinstripe Alley. I connected with folks on here, some still on here (HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS SHOUTOUT, ANDREW MEARNS?) and some distant memories on this site but friendships that have stood the test of time. It was all because this stupid, dumb, wonderful, beautiful sport brought us together.

The 2013 season was the dumbest season in team history (well, probably, but I don’t care enough to find out if there was a dumber one) and yet one of my favorites. The Stephen Drew experience in 2014 didn’t break me either. Nothing could. I loved this sport and this team and nothing was changing that.

All that to say, these days, my relationship with baseball has struggled. Something about the embarrassing way they lost the World Series and losing out on Juan Soto clicked, and as much as I love this team, I didn’t find myself making time for them this year. It’s not that I haven’t been busy before, but I always found a way to stay tuned. This year the strain has been real.

Folks always talk about the grind of a baseball season. Having to play every day takes a toll on the players, but no one talks about the grind of baseball fandom. Watching and following year after year for a team that doesn’t always try their best gets exhausting as well. Sometimes a break is necessary and healthy. They say in order to stay with someone, you have to constantly find opportunities to fall in love with them over and over again. I think the same goes for anything you love.

Right now baseball and I are on a bit of a break. I have tried a few times over the last several weeks to fall in love again but the lackluster play has made that a struggle. It seems every year we get to a point where this team loses its mojo. When I’m blindly in love with them, it’s frustrating and a slog to get through, but I always get through it. When I’m already struggling though, I’ll find something else to do and check in on the box score later.

I’ve gone to the movies 48 times this year so far. Yes, I’ve been busy, but it’s not like I’ve been so busy that I just couldn’t watch or pay attention. I’ve even attempted as much a few times, but every time I did the game did everything in its power to get me to look away. The biggest recurring culprit has been the offense. It’s been a slog. It’s unfortunately something I’m used to with these Yankees. I call it Aaron Boone’s Annual June Swoon. It’s not limited to June, but the offense seems to go in a funk where they can’t buy a run and barely manage to steal a hit.

Photo by Nick Cammett/Diamond Images via Getty Images

Normally I struggle through it, this year I just can’t. This team should have the talent to not just depend on Aaron Judge yet every year, with the exception of last year, it seems the team will only do something if he does. Anthony Volpe is a chore. I like him, I like chicken parm sandwiches, but he is a chore. Jazz Chisholm Jr. is fun and I love Giancarlo Stanton more than most folks, but this team lives and dies with Aaron Judge.

Now let’s be real, Judge is not just one of the best hitters of his generation, he’s one of the best hitters baseball has ever seen. But there are eight other spots in the lineup. You wouldn’t know it watching this team, but there are. And therein lies the strain in my relationship with baseball. I still love this team with every fiber of my being, but the Stockholm Syndrome is wearing off.

Normally when the offense goes on vacation, I find other things to hone in on. Usually, it’s whichever reliever I’m in love with those days. Unfortunately the bullpen has been largely blah at best, and awful at worst. Devin Williams hasn’t struggled as much as his early days in pinstripes, but he does nothing for me. Jonathan Loáisiga can’t stop giving up dingers. Luke Weaver’s been struggling since returning from the injured list. And I’m so removed, I can’t guarantee any other reliever in the bullpen whose name I might know is actually on the active roster. Is Scott Effross a real person or is he just something I hallucinated one time? No one knows.

I’m sure once the postseason begins and the Yankees are in it (whether they stumble in or dominate their way in through weak competition), I’ll pretend like our break was simply imaginary. But I need something to reel me in if this team wants my full attention. Maybe an exciting Trade Deadline will pique my interest, but if this team continues the way it does, I simply cannot see a way out.

I don’t think baseball and I are on the road to a breakup, but this is the closest it’s ever felt since my relationship started. I still love this stupid sport, I still care to watch some highlights, but the spark is just missing. I’m just sitting here waiting to fall in love again.

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