I got my RBI Baseball in the mail yesterday, still in the box (worn, but in the box nonetheless). I fired it up, and when I saw the logo screen I was flooded with memories of playing against old friends long gone, and countless nights of "playing with myself," keeping track of batting stats.
Just like real baseball, the offense was slow in coming around in the early going. I hit foul after foul after foul trying to get my timing down. I played with the National All-Stars, so many players on that team I had big baseball crushes on: Gwynn, Raines, Kruk, Hawk, Murphy Murph.
It was ugly early on, as I also had to find my pitching form. Fatty Fernando can throw all over the screen.
I did better against the "good" teams for some reason, maybe because I knew if I made a bad pitch it would leave the yard...many did. George Bell and Reggie destroyed me, as did Wally Joiner.
Then there were batters that had no freaking business hitting homers smacking them out of the yard on me. The embarassing list: Bobby Grich, Bob Boone, Marty Barrett. There...I said it.
But alas, I started to figure stuff out. I destroyed Houston (don't we all) and then beat the hell out of the Mets.
I then played a few games with Detroit...my mancrush on Alan Trammel has been deemed "unhealthy" by my psychiatrist. Sweet Lou seemed to hit way better than his numbers. Pitching was great.
All that in about three hours. Three wonderful hours. I honestly could have stayed up all night, but I'm married, so you know, my nuts are in a jar someplace.
I haven't really sat down and played a game of RBI in a long time - I miss that.
I am really looking forward to when my son gets old enough that we can play real games, rather than me just striking out and throwing him batting practice.
My daughter is 10 months old, so I'll have to wait a while for her to play. However, the wife is a baseball fan and I'm going to teach her just enough so that she can't beat me.