Those who roll the dice with the APBA game can attest that replaying a season game by game is a task that takes months or, in some cases, even years. Each game may take 15-20 minutes to play and that time must fit in with work, sleep and the other aspects of life. You may be married and have kids and friends and that takes time. You try and squeeze a few games in when it’s convenient; it’s tough to complete a season. Since I have no other life than work, and I hate sleeping, I can play more games daily than most.
I began the 1981 season in December 2011 and tonight I’ve reached Game No. 1,958. There are 158 games remaining to play and that is what drives me. I hope to finish the year by mid April and I figure that if I maintain my pace of six games a day I can complete the season by April 1, when the actual baseball season opens.
There is the burnout factor replayers go through when doing a full season and I’ve hit it a few times. It’s hard to get motivated to play those meaningless games late in the season. Those San Diego-Atlanta clashes of the 1981 season don’t really make you want to grab the dice to see how the contest turns out.
But as the finish line nears and the marathon of replaying a season draws nigh, it’s enough to roll a few extra games each day. I’ve got a good pennant race ensuing in the American League East Division which is an additional draw.
So, with 158 games left, I set these higher daily goals to move along the game. When I’m finished with this season, I’ll immediately turn to doing 1942 and, because there were fewer teams in baseball then and they played 154 rather than 162 games, that season will go more quickly.
It’s not that I want to finish the season out of boredom or some felt tedium in playing game after game after game in 1981. In fact, there is a sadness in completing a season. When the games are done, the players’ cards are returned to their envelopes and the box holding those envelopes returns to the shelf where they probably will remain for the rest of my life. I have enough seasons left to play that I can never duplicate a year for as long as I live. The season will become a memory; the characteristics of that particular year will be shelved; the life that I experienced while playing the game will pass on.
But the next replay beckons and I’ll go through the same roller coaster routine of playing it out. The first few hundred games will fly by because of the newness of the season and players I’m dealing with. It’ll slow down in the midsummer of whatever year I’m playing, much like it does in real baseball.
But as that season wraps up, I’m sure the games will pick up again and I’ll roll them with the maniacal glee I’m experiencing now.