LOL. I’ve told my Bball fanatic friends my idea of Hell is tied to a chair having to watch a no-hitter game for all Eternity.
My ignorant but persistent love for baseball comes from my memories of my Dad listening to games on the radio.
It seemed to me that the crack of the bat, the subdued background roar of the crowd, the occasional murmur from the announcer, all came together like the sounds of locusts, katydids - the aural essence of a summer night, in the 1950s-60s...