It's Whit's Fault

He asked me why I love baseball. Here we go...
By the way, visit Whit's site or I'll have him teach me how to break your knees.

***

Like martial arts, there's a ton more going on than just two guys going at it. A scenario for example:

There's a runner at first, and the home team's stud hitter comes to the plate. This guy's put up big numbers for years, but he's been implicated in the steroid rumors. It's the last year of his current contract, so he's considered to have added motivation to perform, to put up big numbers to he can get big bucks after this season as a free agent. He's clearly 20 pounds lighter than last season--from coming off 'roids?

The guy at first is a slap hitter with speed, but since he's coming off winter ACL surgery, he didn't stretch a shot down the right field line into a double like he used to, and the fans are booing. The guy batting hits into double plays a lot, but if the runner has any semblance of his old speed he'll either steal second or get a good enough jump that he won't be an out at second (and the fans will shut up).

The batter swings and hits a slow hopper to the second baseman in a possible double play to end the inning. But the baseman is right in the runner's path, and he does have the right to run there, so he plows over the fielder, causing him to miss the ball altogether. Runner is safe at second, but the shortstop, who is young but projected to have good fielding instincts and a terrific arm, grabs the ball on the next bounce and throws it to first. He's out on a close call, and the crowd goes bananas as the manager storms out to argue.

Thing is, this is the ump Robbie Alomar spit on all those years ago, and he's got a notoriously short fuse in confrontations now.

Sure enough he tosses the manager. But this pisses off the home team, who use the extra anger to play like men possessed and whomp the visitors 11-0. And the batter who started the play that got his manager ejected still goes two for four, and scouts visiting from other teams scribble in their notebooks...

***

There's this constant subtext, this backstory to almost every play. And the design of the game seems more brilliant to me with each passing year. If a quick batter hits one to the shortstop, there is barely enough time for the shortstop to field it and throw before the runner reaches base. Sometimes he'll beat the throw too. The bases are 90 feet apart. 95 feet and the runner would be out every time. 85 and he'd usually make it. The dimensions are set up for such great plays.

***

And I love it because... I have a pinch of Renaissance man in me. Is that what you'd call it? I'm an anachronism. I love things from eras prior to my own. I'm listening to Robert Johnson right now, and he recorded this stuff in the 30s. I love simple, timeless things like classic blues and baseball. I feel like I've got my finger on the pulse of some bastard son of Father Time, trucking along and connecting us to those things some people think are gone.

I also look back quite fondly on stuff like old cartoons and the Three Stooges, things I know Whit and I spent no small amount of time absorbing as kids.

I don't know if that helps at all. But if you watched a game with me, oh, I do not expect that I'd convert you. No way. Games are three hours or more, which is too long. But I could illustrate a few things to make it clear that it's not just a guy with a stick and a guy with a ball.
It's drama, poetry, and it's timeless.

***

Tuesday. Can we get this over with? When do I turn my head and cough?