THE CROWD LOVES IT

 

 ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (09-10-20)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     There's a saying in sports: "It's lonely at the top." During a global pandemic, it's lonely at the bottom and both sides, also. It's just lonely out there, period. There are no fans to gauge how things are going for the home team. There's a sound effects guy who controls the crowd noises at the baseball game, but it's not the same. He's only hitting the bare essentials, Cheering home runs, some general hubbub, and sometimes his crowd reactions are inappropriate or awkward, because he can't remember if a ball that hits the foul pole is a home run or a foul ball. Plus, he's not going to boo the home team for striking out three consecutive times in a late-inning close game like a real crowd would, because he just bought a new car and the boss might be watching. He's not going to play the sound of "HEY, BEEAH HEEAH!" 2,143 times on average during the game. He's not going to play a tape of the crowd chanting words about the opposing pitcher you wouldn't want your grandmother to hear, no matter how much truth there is to them.

     Sometimes there are cardboard cutouts in the seats, pictures of people who paid to be represented at the game. One guy even sent a picture of his dog, presumably so he could bark at the umpires and not know what it means. There was supposed to be a "subway series" last week between the Yankees and the Mets, but someone tested positive. Was that player out and about, not wearing a mask, engaging in risky social behavior, or was it something innocent, like sharing a pangolin sandwich with some friends?

     There used to be a lot of rules in baseball, but this is a wild west time in history, and people are so thrilled to have something to watch besides the Hallmark Channel that they don't even care about the rules. Christmas comes at least once a week on the Hallmark Channel, and I'm running out of gift ideas so I'm happy to have baseball back, rules or not. Before the pandemic, If there were two strikes on the batter, and a runner steals home, and the pitch hits the runner in the strike zone, the batter is out. Now, nobody cares. What time should we play? I have a dentist appointment, so how about 4:15? Okay. It's a double-header and we might be tired, so let's just play seven innings, okay? Fine. It's extra innings and I have to get up early, is it okay if we start the inning with a guy on second? Yeah, I'm good with it.

     There are no fans in the tennis stadium at the U.S. Open either. There were approximately four people in the entire stadium, so few that you could hear the air conditioning system run. The blood-curdling screams that the women make when they hit the ball are so loud it sounds like the ball is hitting THEM rather than the other way around. Tennis fans are notoriously traitorous, so I'm not sorry to see them go. If the crowd favorite starts to run away with the match, they'll turn around and root for the other guy just to prolong the match and get their money's worth. With no crowd noise at Arthur Ashe Stadium, we're left to rely on the announcers to generate excitement, and they have Australian announcers calling the game who are not known for their effervescent personalities. After the greatest point you've ever seen one will flatly note, "Lovely strike!" A work stoppage where everyone is wearing a beautiful brooch is a lovely strike, not the greatest point you've ever seen. The players now have to get their own towels, there are no linesmen on most of the courts, and of course, no fans. When one of the players hits the ball into the net, I sit at home and think, I could just as well be playing at the U.S. Open. I bring my own towel, I have no fans, I call my own lines and I hit the ball into the net. In fact, I can do it a hundred times better than even the best pros.

     I'm just happy to see a live game again, even if everything's weird. The NBA teams are playing in a bubble at the Walt Disney World in Florida. The players live and compete at the complex, and no guests are allowed in. Their fans are visible to the players on a giant television screen. It used to be the other way around, but everything is upside down in the era of the coronavirus. They have use of the park's facilities during their stay, and I sure hope they get to see the Festival of Fantasy Parade with Cinderella and Prince Charming. I don't know what will happen when all the air runs out in the bubble, but by the then the playoffs should be over.

     Players, if you're out there, stay safe. Stay in the game, we're watching at home. And I know you can't hear it, but I'm making noise. In fact, I just dropped a coffee mug and it broke into a million pieces and woke up the dog. But it's better than nothing. And a word of advice for you NBA players: stay away from that damned Space Mountain. That ride made me sicker than I ever would have been from covid-19.