Take Me Out to the Ballgame

OK folks, yesterday was opening day for the major league baseball season. I know that means winter is almost over--the season starts too early doesn't it-- and spring cannot be far behind. The scores from the six recorded major league games yesterday were: six to three, four to two, two to zero, seven to six, two to one, and five to three(eleven innings). I know that's silly, but I've always wanted to report the scores that way because a radio announcer in Chicago used to do that when I was a teenager. I've always thought it was hilarious.

But on a serious side, there is something nostalgic about the beginning of the season. It represents many things: hope for the new players and their game; a new beginning for those teams that didn't get into the World Series last year; new thrills in sport; new controversy on close calls with a lot of kicking of dirt, much spitting in the dirt and scratching of a certain spot on one's body (why does it itch so much?). It's relaxing to go to a game, have a few beers and a hot dog--a baseball game is not a baseball game without a hot dog and mustard (sorry you vegetarians)--and anticipate the thrills of the incipient season. I guess it just represents renewed hope.

I can still remember playing high school baseball in Chicago when the season opened in April. Damn, was it cold. If you actually hit the ball with one of those  old wooden bats, you hands almost fell off. It would really hurt you ability to play the piano.  I just couldn't hit that thing. It came in so fast that it sizzled, and if it hit you, you feared injury of even death. I used to look "about" where I thought it was going, and swing in that area.  Unfortunately, it was rarely there, so you can guess I was a terrible hitter.

I remember one time--I still feel guilty about it-- while playing first base, I got a hard throw from the shortstop. It was in the dirt, and a lot of dust--they didn't take good care of the field-- flew up in the air as the runner arrived. The base lifted up off the ground, and the ball went under the base. The umpire couldn't see the ball, but to him it  looked like it "arrived in the vicinity" of the first baseman (me) before the runner got there so he called him out.  The other team went nuts, and while they were verbally attacking the ump, I reached under the base and retrieved the ball. It was too late for him as the ump didn't see me do it, and I didn't offer the truth (I confessed in church the following Sunday).  If that runner sees this article, I apologize for that moral lapse. But that's baseball isn't it? I think we were playing Parker High that day.

There is something about baseball, which makes it unique among all sports, and I  think this contributes to making it America's Pastime. (Please follow my argument here, it's complex.) This sport is the only sport which has a rhythm which is very much like the rhythm of life. Yes, believe it, the rhythm of life!  Ninety-eight percent of it is routine and boring-- throw the ball catch the ball, throw the ball catch the ball--but every once in while all hell breaks lose, and everyone tries to get out of a "fix." If this doesn't describe  the rhythm of life, I don't know what does. Get up early, go to work, come home, go to bed, etc., etc.,etc.. Another similarity is the fact that the more you know about the details, and I mean a lot of details of the participants, the more you can understand what is going on. I don't know another sport where that is so true.

Because of this "rhythm" I am talking about, I think most of us can sit back, watch a game, and experience a "feeling of life" that we are very familiar with, and that we experience every day. The biggest difference with that "feeling" during a game,  is that it really doesn't matter very much what happens--at least until the playoffs arrive.

My favorite play in baseball is the steal. Once a man (I was going to say "person," but it's not that way yet) gets on first, it's exciting to watch the possible confrontation. How fast is the base-runner? How fast is the pitchers delivery? How strong is the catcher's arm? How good is the shortstop or the second base-person (OK)? It's always an exciting play.

It's amazing to me that Abner Doubleday got it so right with all the measurements. Ninety feet between bases makes it just about right for close plays if someone hits it to the shortstop or the second baseman, and tries to make it to first. Again, with the steal, there is that rifled throw to second (quite a long distance) that has to be right on to get the runner.  Those plays are always close. I don't think Abner experimented with the distances between bases, but it wouldn't surprise me if someone found some old charts one day that he used to work out these "oh so perfect" distances.

Finally, there are a lot of problems in the world today-- political unrest, war, nuclear catastrophe in Japan, monetary crisis and debt, viral plagues-- and there is no better remedy than going out to the ball park, and filling your stomach with goodies while you watch the summer game that is full of hope, youth, and a modicum of excitement. Take yourself out to a ball game this summer and see what I mean.