I’ve long been worried about my beloved baseball. In recent years, the sport that I grew up believing was the heart and soul of this country is pulling national ratings just slightly higher than CNN’s coverage of the lost Malaysian Airliner…in the 50th day of coverage. I hear pundits claim that the steroid era damaged baseball so badly that it may never recover. Today, though, I found out why Baseball is and will always be, America’s Pastime. In the most unlikely of places, New Britain Connecticut, on the hallowed grounds of New Britain Stadium stood the heart of baseball and the heart of America. Locals are already cringing because New Britain is many things but the heart is not one of them. Well, heart of the drug trafficking trade perhaps. But, you see, that’s my point! The national appeal of baseball has clearly folded to the glamor of the NFL whose quicker pace and less frequency leaves people much less likely to take it for granted. Baseball, with the huge guaranteed contracts and mega steroid drama, seems to disconnect with many fans. On the field today though, and in the stands and in the taste of hot dogs and popcorn, I saw the heart of baseball. It’s a sport that doesn’t require your full attention as a fan. I spent an hour today in the bouncy park at the stadium, huddling around a lone speaker with the other dads who we’re trying to make sure their kids were alive as well as they’re team. My rambling point is, I saw the future of baseball and it’s very much wrapped up in its past. Baseball will always be a part of our neighborhoods and, though it might never see an 18 share in the ratings again, it lives on in the sound and feel of small town ballparks throughout America. Is this post over the top? Perhaps, but I couldn’t help but share the joy I felt when I found baseball alive and well in New Britain, Connecticut.