By
David Stevenson
Arizona Daily Wildcat
Baseball fans will do anything to keep up with their team regardless of the numerous distractions in the world.
Growing up in Dallas, I was a die-hard Texas Rangers fan. I grew up with the likes of Odibe McDowell and Gary Pettis. So day games always presented the challenge of keeping up with the game during school.
In fifth grade, I bought a 5-by-7 radio. It took two months' allowance, but I eventually got it.
When I had the guts to sneak it past my mom, it slipped out of my notebook in front of her. She immediately took it for two weeks, knowing what I attempted, and chewed me out. Dad just shook his head and whispered to me, "Put it in your lunch next time." He knew what I was going through.
With time, I learned how to get the radio to school.
In seventh grade, I got it past Mom, but had a test in science class. The punk girl sitting next to me told the teacher I was listening to the game while taking the test. He called me up and said, "Don't listen to the game." Then he leaned in and whispered, "No score, top of the third."
I peered over his desk and he had a small TV with the game muted. He winked at me. Baseball fans look out for each other.
By my sophomore year in high school, I had gotten so good at hiding and listening, my emotions started to control me.
"Damnit," I said, when Frank Thomas of the White Sox hit a three-run home run to take the early lead in Algebra II class. The teacher stopped and said to me, "Graph reflections are important. Why don't you do an extra 20 problems?" I didn't care. My main problem was that Kenny Rogers was stupid enough to challenge Thomas inside.
Baseball controls me. This is probably why my choir teacher during my senior year gave me detention for cussing during class. The reason: Juan Encarnacion of the Detroit Tigers homered in the first inning on Opening Day.
Times have changed. The Rangers have Alex Rodriguez, new uniforms, and play in a brand-new park. I've changed, too.
Now that I'm in college, I schedule my classes around baseball to make sure I can watch the Rangers whenever they are televised. When games and classes conflict, I'll get a "job interview" that I need to go to. I can't help it if the Rangers are interviewing me.
At the encouragement of my friends and family, I admit I have a problem. I need outside help. That's why today I have resigned from the Wildcat and dropped out of school to get help. Where? The Whitey Ford Clinic.
