The local Lehigh Valley IronPigs always seem to close out their season on Labor Day against my hometown Rochester Red Wings.
And I always seem to take the family — mainly b/c my younger son, who is not a sports fan, likes the last game of the year ’cause they mark down the concessions to half-price.
I went again today, for the fourth straight last-game-of-the-year-against-Rochester, and it was a more detached expedition than usual.
I only went to three IronPigs games this year, and none since Father’s Day, so I never really formed any attachment to any of the players on this year’s team.
They’re going to the playoffs for only the second time in nine years, which is nice, but unlike last time I’m not going to get tickets. It’s on a school night … and, I dunno, I just don’t care.
Maybe the arrival of an AHL hockey team to town is shifting my allegiances. (Just last night I started compiling my schedule of local hockey games for the fall and winter.)
Or maybe the IronPigs have finally worn thin on me. Though it’s been a more divorced summer than usual in baseball terms — I haven’t been to see anyone else play ball this summer either. Usually when I travel I catch a game out of town somewhere, but I didn’t travel.
I haven’t followed the Phillies that closely either, though there wasn’t much to follow this year.
We’ll see what next spring brings; by then I will probably be chomping at the bit for baseball.