baseball rocks - standing in centerfield for hours on end, chewing endless mouthfuls of sunflower seeds like some bipedal ground hog and hurling endless insults not at the other team but at your own dumb-ass, mostly retarded pitcher who JUST CAN'T PUT THE BALL OVER THE FUCKING PLATE is a glorious way to spend a spring afternoon (bench clearing brawls where the recently released from the juvie members of your team can be seen streaming towards the far side, helmeted and bats in hand, ain't exactly unentertaining niether )
as for enjoying a game in person, it is a barrier to non-hedonists i'll admit- for chrissakes, how can you not like a game where you can get falling down drunk, puke all over your benchmates, passout, sleep off the hangover while dreaming about laaarge women and wake a new man only to find that concievably NOTHING has changed in the game?