Media Savvy
Time Of Our Lives
By Alby Oxenreiter

It's been suggested that watching and following sports in the new millennium just isn't fun anymore. As the theory goes, the sports themselves have given way to big business and the games are no longer games. With that in mind, maybe we should all remember how it felt to be a young fan.

Kids don't think about the negatives that have overtaken sports. In the middle of hardcore reality, young fans still own the luxury of living in a fantasy world where star athletes rule and where sporting events supercede all else.

In June, we traveled to Boston so my son Alby, one week shy of becoming a teenager, could see the Red Sox play at Fenway Park. It was the dream of his young life, and seeing his eyes widen at the sight of the Green Monster refueled my own love for sports. For a long summer afternoon, we absorbed the one-of-a-kind atmosphere of a national sports treasure.

Seven weeks after our Fenway pilgrimage, we continued our summer adventure. The Giants came to Pittsburgh for a series against the last-place Pirates, and all three of my children were beside themselves with the thought of seeing a baseball giant, Barry Bonds. Forget the accusations of steroids or Barry's infamous cold personality. For three hours in August, they sat in the left field bleachers and soaked in another national treasure, the greatest player of his day. Love him or hate him, his legend is undeniable, and my children's excitement reminded me why I do what I do for a living.

Later in August, we traveled to Cleveland so my 9-year-old could see his favorite player in person. In our house, Torii Hunter came on the radar at the 2002 All-Star game, when he jumped above the outfield wall and stole a HR from Bonds. That's why we waited for more than two hours by the Jacobs Field dugout rail. It was worth the wait, our son Oliver actually met his superhero - Spiderman. He talked with Torii, took a picture with Torii and then floated in exhilaration for the entire game. By the time he fell asleep that night, the Twins' loss was already forgotten. But the picture, in Oliver's mind and in the camera, would last a lifetime.

A week later, we found ourselves at Heinz Field. It was an exhibition game and very little was at stake for the Steelers.But seeing Jerome Bettis score a touchdown made it a worthy deposit into the memory bank. The kids also got a glimpse of the Steelers' quarterback-of-the-future, a pre-season performance that will certainly feed the 'I remember when - ' stories. But the best moment of a memorable night was when my young fans did what young fans do...they waited for the Steelers to exit the field and begged for souvenirs. So it was fitting when 11-year-old Abigail, decked out in her #8 jersey, gladly accepted Tommy Maddox's wristband. Sweaty polyester never seemed so good.

Sometime soon, when the NHL labor dispute gives way to hockey, my kids will watch Mario Lemieux. After that, maybe some basketball, and then spring - and baseball again, when they can follow every move of Jason Kendall the same way I used to watch Richie Hebner.

Modern-day sports come with some unfortunate signs of the times - performance-enhancing drugs, serious accusations against superstars, obscenely rich athletes, Super Bowl breast-baring and labor disputes. But these are also the days of Lemieux and Bonds, of Torii and Fenway. Days of innocence on an endless merry-go-round of childhood fantasy, what sports are all about.

So take a break from the cynicism of the day and take stock in the present. If you're spending sleepless nights longing for the good old days - wake up. Whether you realize it or not, these are the good old days.

Alby Oxenreiter is sports director for WPGH-TV Fox 53.