COVERING ALL THE BASES

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (10-31-24)

     It's October already, and America's summer pastime has blossomed into the Fall Classic. I love baseball, and this is the time I love it the best. The other major sports are fine, football for example. Football is fun because they play in the rain or snow, and when the football gets loose everyone chases it around like a greased pig. And I like the name of some of the penalties, "unnecessary roughness," for example. If you grab a running back and throw him upside down on his head, it could be considered a necessary amount of roughness, depending on how much people dislike him. But you can't use your own head to hit another player, even though it's just as likely to hurt you as him. It's like the word "criminal mischief," where you allow that a certain amount of high jinks is all well and good, but if you add too much tomfoolery and throw in an overabundance of monkey business or shenanigans, you could have a misdemeanor on your hands.

     There's nothing wrong with basketball as a sport, but it seems like a lot of trouble to go through to put things into a basket one at a time, with someone trying to prevent you from doing it. I've encountered the same thing when I attempt to sort the laundry in the same room as my cat.

     Hockey is kind of exciting, and just saying the word "puck" unexpectedly in mixed company is an end in itself. But it goes so fast on television, people chasing an object no bigger than a cake of soap. It's hard to follow, and one of these days they'll blow the whistle when they realize they've been batting around someone's cell phone the whole time.  

     Soccer? I know the rest of the world loves soccer, but those are parts of the world where watching paint dry is also popular. My brother says, "You just don't understand the game," which isn't any more true than "I don't understand people WATCHING the game." I could fix the sport in two seconds by widening the goal two feet, decreasing the field by 20 percent, and adding a poodle to each team.

     But baseball is unique in so many ways. The innings of a game unfold like the drama of a play with nine acts. Then there is a play within a play- the action of the scoring and defense within the inning. Drilled further down is the confrontation of each at-bat, the ebb and flow that can quickly change the tide of the outcome. And every singular play is, well... a play. It's an individual challenge within a team war. And, unlike a Broadway production, no one feels the urge to break into a song.

     There is no clock to determine if you have time to catch up. Take all the time you need. We can bake some cookies while we're waiting, or do our taxes. No one will say, "Hey, can you score any faster, please?" Like they might in real life. During the 7th inning, we'll stretch, and sing a song together. During the 8th inning, a nice nap. By the 10th inning, maybe the cookies will be ready.  Also, there are no designated dimensions of a baseball park; each one is different. And, it's the only sport I know of that will admit that balls might be foul.

     Baseball also has the most entertaining fights in all of sports. I'll describe one to you: The pitcher grows tired of the same guy repeatedly hitting home runs in the game, so to get even he throws a ball at a completely different guy, who is much smaller. He aims for a spot near his head, but misses and hits him in the back. The guy who was hit makes a threatening gesture toward the mound, the same one your Mom made if you caught a garter snake and it got loose in the den. The pitcher then performs a pantomime symbolizing the entire "You talkin' to me?" scene in "Taxi Driver." Which is the international symbol for everyone who is employed by either team to run onto the field, in search of someone to hold them back. By this time players are streaming out of both bullpens, but instead of fighting each other along the way, they slow-jog all the way to the pitcher's mound to give the fight more time to be over. 

     Players are pointing at one another and yelling, and here for the first time, is what they said: "This happened last week and both benches emptied." "Oh, that wasn't a fight, someone tried to microwave some Chinese food that was three weeks  old." "Well, I'm going to have to punch you anyway in case you were thinking of doing the same thing." "Sir, I am on your team." "Really? I don't believe I've ever seen you before." "I'm a pinch runner, just called up today." "Well, I saw you pinch my sunflower seeds before, and then you ran. I'm going to have to ask you to step outside." "We are outside, but we can step inside. I only took the sunflower seeds to put in the birdfeeder. The Orioles, Cardinals and Blue Jays are in town next week." The fight escalates from there, and ends up with dinner reservations.

     This should be enough to convince you to watch the World Series with me, and enjoy one of the few sports where the "World" is defined as two countries on the same continent.