With the playoffs coming up and the baseball season winding down, I am once again reminded of my complicated history with baseball. I may love it now, especially since our Cubbies have already clinched a spot in the playoffs, but it hasn't always been that way. No, for a while I actually wasn't interested in baseball at all and couldn't be bothered to even watch a game. While the reasons for this so-called slump may be as up in the air as a fly ball, my feelings have now landed back in fair territory.

My initial interest in baseball as a kid probably stemmed from how much my parents both love the sport, and more specifically, the Chicago Cubs. During the spring and summer, the games would be on at our house every day if we had the right station. I knew the names of all the players, I regularly wore team apparel, and I would excitedly watch those games with my parents. Every once in a while, if we were lucky, we got to go to a Cubs/Brewers game. The Cubs didn't win most of the games we went to, but it was always a good time. And if that wasn't enough, I also played softball every summer until high school. That was right about when things started changing.

Shortly after making the playoffs back-to-back years in 2007 and 2008, everything started going downhill. Most of the players I knew and loved were traded and the new team just couldn't get a winning season under their belt to save their lives. It made it a lot harder for me to want to watch when the team had players I didn't know and didn't seem to be playing all that well. I'd hate to think of myself as a fair-weather fan, because I did still support the team during these years, but I was kind of being one. And this lessened interest I showed in professional baseball carried over to my own personal involvement in the sport. After deciding not to play softball my freshman year, I thought I'd give it a try as a sophomore. But since I didn't have the passion, the right name, or the high level of skill my school required of all its athletes (which is a whole other issue in itself), I didn't end up playing much. I mostly just had fun messing around with my friends on the bench.

It was safe to say that my love of baseball had considerably waned at this point. It took this next string of events to bring it back. A few years ago while on a family vacation in Texas, my uncle and cousins from that area got a bunch of us tickets to a Rangers/Yankees game. I hadn't been to a professional game in quite some time, so I was admittedly excited, especially since I didn't really care about who won this time. The game ended up being a lot of fun, and I bet if we would have stayed to see the grand slam or the 12-12 tie that ended with the Yankees winning by one, it would have been even better. But I digress, being at that game and back in that atmosphere reminded me of what I loved about this great sport. It was my luck that around that same time the Cubs had acquired some of the rookies that got the team back on track and helped turn them into the force they are today.

With the Cubs now winning games again, I actually had a reason (and an interest) to watch them once more. This is why when my dad picked up some tickets from a friend for a Cubs/Brewers game this summer, I leapt at the opportunity to go. I mean, the seats were in the family section right behind home plate after all, so who wouldn't? While the weather and the outcome of the game that night were less than ideal, I still had a good time and was glad I went to the game.

Now that the Cubs are playing as hot as ever this season, I doubt I'll see my interest in them fade anytime soon. My only wish is that I actually had cable so I could watch them as they head into the upcoming playoffs. Until that day comes, all I can say is that I sure am glad that I've found my way back to baseball. It may have taken a few innings and included its fair share of strikeouts, but I have finally made it home again.