Elayne Riggs' Journal (for Leah)

Sunday, April 06, 2003

Talkin' Baseball, Part 2

Well, beat the drum and hold the phone - the sun came out today
We're born again, there's new grass on the field
Roundin' third, and headed for home, it's a brown-eyed handsome man
Anyone can understand the way I feel


Yep, love me those brown-eyed handsome men. (Also the green-eyed, blue-eyed, and black-eyed ones.) But eye candy is a pretty minor factor in my appreciation of The Game. And it really is "the" game to me; in terms of the "big four" (baseball, football, basketball and ice hockey) my view of major sports in this country is "there's baseball then there's everything else that's not baseball."

So, to recap yesterday's intro: a game that excludes women from playing (or even umpiring) at the top levels, a game that's often so intrinsically wrapped up in patriotism and jingoism of the worst sort (to the point where the championship is termed a "world" series - and no, it wasn't named for the NY World newspaper - when only two countries are eligible to participate in it), a game where aggression and boorish behavior is rewarded and even encouraged... what is the attraction of this game to a pacifist, anti-jingoistic feminist?

Well, first off, in terms of the aggression and war-like nature and whatnot, I think George Carlin put it best in his classic comparison of baseball to football. Baseball is essentially a pastoral, positive, relatively relaxed game, a celebration of life and of being "safe at home." Granted, that last bit takes on an additional meaning in this era of FatherHomeland Security, but still, one cannot deny that being safe at home is something most people want.

Baseball to me is all about hope and wonder and childhood dreams. I can put into this context the anticipation that, just as the color barrier was broken, someday (although probably not in my lifetime) barriers based on gender and nationality will also fall by the wayside, and every boy and girl with the aptitude and determination and talent can have an equal opportunity to play pro ball in their home country and perhaps someday participate in a true World Series. Heck, it wasn't so long ago that men of certain races were deemed not to have the "necessities" to play on or manage a baseball team; perhaps as the pendulum swings back from today's emphasis on power (I'm betting it'll happen as we start seeing the long-term side effects of bulking up via steroids) to a more nuanced, skill-based game again, gender integration will be seen as a real possibility. And we're already starting to see exhibition games played in Latin America, Japan and elsewhere; perhaps it's only a matter of time before those nations' big leagues follow in the footsteps of their little leagues (even though I believe the ILL is set up so that an American division always gets into the Series, which still seems rather biased).

I also find baseball very poetic and very karmic, as do others. Although I think individual record-breaking achievements are cool, I generally don't follow or care about statistics, but baseball is the only game where I've happily sat watching the play and keeping a scorecard (okay, besides bowling). I learned tons of "process wonk" stuff about game strategy and such from broadcasters like Tim McCarver (the broadcast booth is one area where women have made some strides, like Yankees broadcaster Suzyn Waldman). The only thing I still can't spot is a balk, even on replays and no matter how many times it's explained. I just have a balk block. But the infield-fly rule, the nuances of when to run and when not to, hitting the cutoff man, I know that stuff backwards and forwards, and that knowledge puts the fun in fundamentals for me. (On the other hand, I still don't get football penalties for the most part, nor would I even be able to identify most of the positions.)

Because I enjoy it and know so much about how it's played, I take baseball very personally and emotionally. I've followed the NY Mets on and off since '67, and like many Mets fans I derive an almost masochistic satisfaction of seeing them near the bottom of their league; it's expected, after all. The World Series trips and wins have been... flukes, yeah that's it, flukes! Pleasant, unexpected, miraculous surprises, because we cognoscenti know they're supposed to suck. I still remember the sarky Tom Paxon lyrics, "Have you heard of the heroes who have lately come to town / A hard-bitten corps of pros and vets / They are hearty, they are hale, and their enemies turn pale / When they face that fearsome band, the New York Mets." (Wish I could find it online; my favorite verse was probably the one talking about Casey Stengel's orders which ended, "And no one understands a goddamn thing..." see, 'cause Casey mumbled a lot and... oh never mind, you hadda be there.) Again, it's a karma thing.

Now, just because my emotional heart might belong to the Mets (or at least my memories of them when I was growing up), I never had the hatred for the Yankees that a cross-town rivalry is supposed to engender. I think the Yankees' legacy is pretty darn keen, and I've probably been to Yankee Stadium far more often than Shea. They just play real nice baseball most of the time, which is great to watch. And hey, I'm a Bronxite now, so I feel obligated to root for them, particularly now that our cable system finally gets the YES Network (as of last Monday).

So, having fully admitted this emotional tie, it's hard for me to deal with the political aspect of baseball - or, more accurately, to ignore when people hijack the game for political purposes. I'm one of those people who doesn't stand for the national anthem in the stadium (or if I feel pressured to, I don't put my hand over my heart or recite the war song lyrics) and leaves the room when it's played on TV. Although I love when either the Expos or Blue Jays are playing a game I'm watching, as I am partial to the much cooler Canadian national anthem. But the flag-wavings and color guard presentations and fly-overs and politicians throwing out balls and mouthed platitudes, I can soooo do without. I miss hearing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the 7th inning stretch, jettisoned last year in favor of "God Bless America," a "tradition" which I bitterly expect to continue as long as this war's on. Yes, "baseball is America," but as I said above, to me it's not the America of "oo-ess-eh" moronic jingoism but of hope and anticipation and childhood dreams and inclusion. And thanks to the power baseball has over me, it always will be.

Update: Devra pointed out in the responses to yesterday's entry that she also appreciates the inherent fairness of baseball, how it equalizes talented players (well, except for the pitcher it pretty much is a level playing field, after all) and such. I think I covered that under the whole "karma" observation but in case I didn't, I wish to state for the record that I totally agree with Devra. I also like that with this inherent fairness often comes inherent human fallibility, and I say god bless that, let's never institute the instant replay ruling in baseball. Oh, and also for the record, I think the designated hitter rule sucks, but y'all probably suspected that.

0 comments: