In one of his stand-up routines years ago, comedian Lewis Black said the easiest job in America is the weather forecaster in San Diego.

“How’s the weather going to be, Lou?” the anchor asked him.

“Nice. Back to you,” Black responds.

Last Friday was one of those days Black was talking about—warm, sunny and clear. It felt a whole lot like spring had arrived early, and ever since I was a child, spring has one meaning for me: Baseball is back.

Friday’s weather didn’t actually matter, because baseball is already back, but it sure helped set the mood. San Diego State and University of San Diego opened the college season with a three-game series last Friday. Earlier last week, major league pitchers and catchers reported to spring training. The World Baseball Classic is just around the corner and Opening Day is only a little more than a month away.

I know the popularity of baseball has faded recently, perhaps coinciding with the use of performance-enhancing drugs by the sport’s premiere players or perhaps having more to do with the rising popularity of the National Football League.

But I don’t care. Baseball was, and always will be, my first love.

Let me tell you about a few of the reasons I love baseball, a few of the things that I think make the game great.

First and foremost for me, it’s the memories.

When my best friend and I get together, inevitably our conversation turns toward the championship game in the majors division of Lake Murray Little League, when his team forced extra innings after a very questionable ruling by the umpire.

The game went so long it had to be continued the next day, which is when I drove in the winning run with a walk-off hit. I’ll swear until my deathbed it was a line drive, one-hopper to the fence in left-center field; he’ll swear it wasn’t much more than a blooper over the shortstop’s head.

Then there are the great moments in Major League Baseball history that have happened during my lifetime. Here are my three of my favorites:

– The play that Seattle Mariners fans simply call “The Double.” Edgar Martinez’s double drove in Joey Cora from third base and Ken Griffey, Jr., all the way from first base, in the 11th inning of a decisive Game 5 to beat the New York Yankees in the 1995 American League Division Series. The celebration that erupted when Griffey slid into home, barely beating the throw from left field, was awesome.

– Or the Arizona Diamondbacks win against the New York Yankees in Game 7 of the 2001 World Series on a walk-off single by Luis Gonzalez, only the third World Series to end on a walk-off hit.

– My favorite memory is of the 1998 National League Division Series. I was in Qualcomm Stadium for Game 3 when Trevor Hoffman entered in the top of the ninth inning with the Padres leading 2-1 against the Houston Astros. I will never forget waving my white towel alongside 65,234 other fans as “Hells Bells” started blaring through the speakers and the entire stadium shook. It was pure pandemonium as Hoffman shut down the game and helped send the Padres to the NL championship series, and later the World Series.

But it’s not just the playoff games and walk-off hits that I love about baseball. A season lasts 162 games–more if you make the playoffs–and becomes a part of life along the way. During baseball season, I always had Padres games on the television while doing homework, or fell asleep listening to Jerry Coleman and “Uncle” Teddy Leitner on the local radio broadcast.

My love for baseball also has something to do with how quirky it is. A few examples:

– Baseball is the only sport whose players do the scoring instead of the ball. In hockey, football, basketball, soccer, water polo–any ball sport you can think of–the ball crossing a goal line or going into a net or through a hoop is the means by which a team scores. In baseball, a team scores when a player touches home plate, while in other sports, players are trying to score by moving the ball closer toward the goal and then finally scoring. In baseball, it’s usually best that the ball be as far away as possible from where the team scores. (I’m excluding softball because it is a variation of baseball).

– There is no time limit in baseball. It doesn’t matter how many runs a team trails by, there is always the statistical possibility of a comeback. In basketball and football, you have to rely on the clock, and sooner or later, there will come a time when you just can’t score enough points in the time allotted to make up for the deficit.

– Cheating is not allowed nor encouraged, but it is more or less accepted. Spitballs, pine tar, corked bats, stealing signs–even steroids–are all part of the game.

Ask baseball fans how they feel about Barry Bonds and Jose Canseco–the two most blatant steroid users of our time–and then tell me that steroids aren’t accepted.

– Besides the infield dimensions, or the length from the pitching mound to home plate and from home plate to the bases, there are no set rules on what a field must look like. You want to have a short distance to the left field wall, but have the wall be a 37-foot “Green Monster?” Sure, Boston, go ahead! You want to build a hill in center field, Houston? That’s idiotic, but go ahead!

– Baseball players come in all shapes and sizes, including big fat guys. That’s not to say they’re not athletic, because most of them are. But as John Kruk once said, “I’m not an athlete. I’m a professional baseball player.” The most famous baseball player of all time, Babe Ruth, was just a little slimmer than Chris Farley in “Tommy Boy.”

There is so much more to love about baseball, and I’m sure those of you still reading this have your own reasons. But enjoy the nice February weather and the onset of spring knowing that it’s that time of year again.

Baseball is back.