Baseball is two guys playing catch and some guy being a dick about it.
I've been thinking a lot about baseball lately. I know this might come as a huge shock to all of you, but I'm kind of a fan. :) And while I'm a Red Sox fan first and foremost - I was never given a choice in the matter - I really am a flat out baseball fan.
I'm always impressed by people who are really and truly fans of two (or more!) baseball teams, simply because I don't understand how they find the time. I can say that I'm rooting for the Cubs (because I can appreciate both the drought they're still in, and the symmetry of winning the World Series exactly 100 years after the last time), the Mets (for no specific reason, and only when I'm not reminded of 1986), and the Phillies (largely, I guess, because I've been influenced by Out In Center Field, and the couple games of theirs I've caught have been good ones. and because Jimmy Rollins and Ryan Howard are adorable and awesome and BFF), but they don't get a fraction of the attention I give my Sox.
My fondness for the game is very easily explained. My father played baseball, and then men's softball. I played softball for most of my childhood (and was awesome!), and attended many of my brother's Little League games. I grew up in Maine, a Red Sox Nation stronghold, surrounded by generations of life long Sox fans, and that's something you have to actively resist. So not only is it the sport I know best, it's the one that has been the most consistent part of my life. On top of that, everything about the game appeals to me. The traditions and the history - the records, the legends that have sprung up around certain players, the fact that "The Curse of the Bambino" was given any credence at all - are a defining part of baseball, and I've always been a history nerd. Baseball is the sport that has produced the most and best sportswriting, which means that there are more books out there than I will ever be able to read.
There's a reason for both the history and the sports writing, and that's because baseball is a game of possibilities. Football is fairly easy to predict - when your team has the ball, they will rush or pass - and they wear too many pads. In soccer, your team is going to kick the ball around - maybe head it once in a while. In hockey, there's that stupid offsides rule that sort of makes sense to me, but will never be anything but stupid, but at least people will get punched. Basketball is still that same back and forth as soccer and hockey, but for some reason it annoys me far more when a basketball player falls on the ground writhing and clutching his leg - only to jump up and run down the court when he gets his call - than when a soccer player does it.
But in baseball, when your favorite player is up to bat, a hundred different things could happen. Ball, strike, foul, grounder, home run, pop fly, hit by pitch, and that's the short list. (Or, hey, the ump could call a balk on the pitch that your guy just flied to center for the last out of the game, and suddenly they've advanced the runners after the game is, arguably, over.) Throw a couple baserunners on, and things get even more complicated. Baseball also presents so many opportunities for a single player to become a hero - there isn't an equivalent to a grand slam or a perfect game in any other sport - while never letting the team aspect of the game be forgotten.
I love all the numbers, even if I don't always understand them (I'm down with OPS, certainly, and VORP and BABIP, but you start getting too technical on me and I'm gone). I love that the sport keeps track of things like the guys who have hit two grand slams in one game (including the guy who hit two in one inning), or unassisted triple plays, or perfect games. (Or anything at all on this list.) I love that, given the chance, a commentator is more than willing to give us stats concerning any combination of factors - my mother and I joke about Remy giving us, say, Mike Lowell's batting average on Tuesdays, after the third inning, against pitchers named "John", but you know what? - they could pull up that stat. Which should be pendantic and stupid, but is mostly just awesome. During any game of baseball, there will be firsts and "this hasn't happened since some guy nicknamed "Scruffy" pulled it off in 1936" and new records, no matter how small or nitpicky. I like that. I like that the baseball community cares about things like that.
People always seem to cite this when talking about why baseball is "better" than other sports, and I can't help but agree: with at least 162 games over six months, we, as fans, know these guys. We watch them every day. We read up about them, discuss their stats, know when they got their last hit or last win. We know how many career home runs Manny has, and we know what Curt Schilling nicknamed the newest rookie to come up from Triple A. (He dubbed Jed Lowrie "the intern", which, when combined with the boys' fake first hit ball misspelling of "Jeb Lowry", makes up my nickname for the little cuffer: Jeb the Intern; I am firmly convinced that Schilling came up with it in a fit of pique, announcing that there were too many damn rookies running around, and sending Ellsbury, Moss, Buchholz, Lester, and maybe even Pedroia, Papelbon, and Youkilis running for cover along with Lowrie. But that's just me and I am now way off subject.) We know that Mike Lowell can beat Youk in ping pong, and can outdance Dusty, Alex Cora, and Papelbon. We know that Mike Timlin and Tim Wakefield go hunting together. We know Josh Beckett and David Ortiz's favorite swear words. We know these guys, we adopt them, and adore them, and frequently turn on them - but we're easily won back! - and consistently spend three hours a day with them.
I've never felt that same connection with another sports team - even the Patriots, who all of New England has declared undying devotion to these past couple of years. I know who Tom Brady is because he's hot and, as the quarterback, easy to identify. I know who Teddy Bruschi is, but I probably couldn't identify him on the line, with his helmet on. I can usually figure out which player Randy Moss is, because he's the one holding the ball. But I can't tell most of them apart under the helmets and all the padding. Soccer doesn't interest me, so I haven't bothered pay attention to any of the half-hearted teams here, or the crazier-than-baseball-fans in Europe. (Go Chelsea!) And I've found that I enjoy basketball more when I don't know who the teams are, or care who wins, because then I can just cheer for who ever is losing, and be done with it. My brother can talk about the Celtics all he wants, but I honestly can't tell you the names of any of them beyond Kevin Gurnett, and that might not actually be his name. (There you go, google wants to know if I meant Kevin Garnett. Point made.)
And, finally, I think baseball as a sport can claim the best nicknames, hands down. The Human Rain Delay. The Splendid Splinter. The Georgia Peach - possibly the most badass player in the history of the sport, and we remember him as the Georgia Peach. Hit 'Em Where They Ain't. The Flying Dutchman. The Greek God of Walks. And, really, that's not even getting into, say "Babe", or "Stan the Man" or "The Wizard" or "The Iron Horse" or "The Yankee Clipper" or "Cool Papa Bell" or "The Big Unit" or any of the 300+ guys nicknamed "Lefty". (Roger Clemens pointedly left off this list because 20 strike outs or not, I want him to shut up and go away.)
I say all this as a firmly biased baseball fan - and even more biased Red Sox fan - and I would love to hear about why hockey or basketball or cricket is your favorite sport, or why you like the Dodgers or Diamondbacks so much more than the Sox. (Especially if you like cricket, because I keep planning to figure out the rules of that sport, and I just can't. I'm President Bartlet in this sports metaphor.) Talk any kind of sports to me, guys, because we're only one month into the season, and I will be talking a lot more baseball in the future.
A couple quick things:
If you love me at all, you'll go here and vote for Kevin Youkilis for the All Star Game. He's the best defensive first baseman in the history of the game (the numbers don't lie, man), he switched seamlessly from first to third all month (including in the middle of several games), he's been at the top of (and occasionally leading) the league in batting, and he still sports some of the most impressive facial hair in baseball. And I love his dorky ass self. So. VOTE.
Fic You Must Read: Not the Music in Me. Supernatural/High School Musical. No, really. Actual summary: You know how at the end of High School Musical you found yourself thinking 'You know, someone really needs to write a Supernatural bodyswap crossover with this'? Wait, you didn't? By far the funniest (non-Red Sox) thing I've seen all week. (I'm having vague recollections of a fic from a few months back where Gabriella was a demon, and Sam and Dean had to get rid of her - ring any bells? Anyone know where I can find it? I'm not creative enough to have made that up.)
Old Red Sox Video of the Day: this one right here, where Papelbon asks Youk who the sexiest players on the team are. (And by "old", I mean from last season, but whatever.) "Chicks dig the long ball." I think Paps has some home run envy.
Feel Good Story of the Day: In an NCAA softball game, a senior who had never hit a home run before knocked one out of the park with two runners on - only to badly injure her knee while rounding first, and be unable to continue around the bases. Because the umps said that if anyone from her team touched her, or if a pinch runner was put in to run for her, the home run would be ruled a 2 RBI single instead of a 3 RBI home run, two players from the other team carried her around and helped her touch each base so the home run would count. Her team went on to win 4-2, with her run counting as the official winning run. (The bad part: after the game, the umps double checked the rules, and a pinch runner would have been fine, making the whole thing sweet and very sportsmanlike, but unnecessary.)
I'm always impressed by people who are really and truly fans of two (or more!) baseball teams, simply because I don't understand how they find the time. I can say that I'm rooting for the Cubs (because I can appreciate both the drought they're still in, and the symmetry of winning the World Series exactly 100 years after the last time), the Mets (for no specific reason, and only when I'm not reminded of 1986), and the Phillies (largely, I guess, because I've been influenced by Out In Center Field, and the couple games of theirs I've caught have been good ones. and because Jimmy Rollins and Ryan Howard are adorable and awesome and BFF), but they don't get a fraction of the attention I give my Sox.
My fondness for the game is very easily explained. My father played baseball, and then men's softball. I played softball for most of my childhood (and was awesome!), and attended many of my brother's Little League games. I grew up in Maine, a Red Sox Nation stronghold, surrounded by generations of life long Sox fans, and that's something you have to actively resist. So not only is it the sport I know best, it's the one that has been the most consistent part of my life. On top of that, everything about the game appeals to me. The traditions and the history - the records, the legends that have sprung up around certain players, the fact that "The Curse of the Bambino" was given any credence at all - are a defining part of baseball, and I've always been a history nerd. Baseball is the sport that has produced the most and best sportswriting, which means that there are more books out there than I will ever be able to read.
There's a reason for both the history and the sports writing, and that's because baseball is a game of possibilities. Football is fairly easy to predict - when your team has the ball, they will rush or pass - and they wear too many pads. In soccer, your team is going to kick the ball around - maybe head it once in a while. In hockey, there's that stupid offsides rule that sort of makes sense to me, but will never be anything but stupid, but at least people will get punched. Basketball is still that same back and forth as soccer and hockey, but for some reason it annoys me far more when a basketball player falls on the ground writhing and clutching his leg - only to jump up and run down the court when he gets his call - than when a soccer player does it.
But in baseball, when your favorite player is up to bat, a hundred different things could happen. Ball, strike, foul, grounder, home run, pop fly, hit by pitch, and that's the short list. (Or, hey, the ump could call a balk on the pitch that your guy just flied to center for the last out of the game, and suddenly they've advanced the runners after the game is, arguably, over.) Throw a couple baserunners on, and things get even more complicated. Baseball also presents so many opportunities for a single player to become a hero - there isn't an equivalent to a grand slam or a perfect game in any other sport - while never letting the team aspect of the game be forgotten.
I love all the numbers, even if I don't always understand them (I'm down with OPS, certainly, and VORP and BABIP, but you start getting too technical on me and I'm gone). I love that the sport keeps track of things like the guys who have hit two grand slams in one game (including the guy who hit two in one inning), or unassisted triple plays, or perfect games. (Or anything at all on this list.) I love that, given the chance, a commentator is more than willing to give us stats concerning any combination of factors - my mother and I joke about Remy giving us, say, Mike Lowell's batting average on Tuesdays, after the third inning, against pitchers named "John", but you know what? - they could pull up that stat. Which should be pendantic and stupid, but is mostly just awesome. During any game of baseball, there will be firsts and "this hasn't happened since some guy nicknamed "Scruffy" pulled it off in 1936" and new records, no matter how small or nitpicky. I like that. I like that the baseball community cares about things like that.
People always seem to cite this when talking about why baseball is "better" than other sports, and I can't help but agree: with at least 162 games over six months, we, as fans, know these guys. We watch them every day. We read up about them, discuss their stats, know when they got their last hit or last win. We know how many career home runs Manny has, and we know what Curt Schilling nicknamed the newest rookie to come up from Triple A. (He dubbed Jed Lowrie "the intern", which, when combined with the boys' fake first hit ball misspelling of "Jeb Lowry", makes up my nickname for the little cuffer: Jeb the Intern; I am firmly convinced that Schilling came up with it in a fit of pique, announcing that there were too many damn rookies running around, and sending Ellsbury, Moss, Buchholz, Lester, and maybe even Pedroia, Papelbon, and Youkilis running for cover along with Lowrie. But that's just me and I am now way off subject.) We know that Mike Lowell can beat Youk in ping pong, and can outdance Dusty, Alex Cora, and Papelbon. We know that Mike Timlin and Tim Wakefield go hunting together. We know Josh Beckett and David Ortiz's favorite swear words. We know these guys, we adopt them, and adore them, and frequently turn on them - but we're easily won back! - and consistently spend three hours a day with them.
I've never felt that same connection with another sports team - even the Patriots, who all of New England has declared undying devotion to these past couple of years. I know who Tom Brady is because he's hot and, as the quarterback, easy to identify. I know who Teddy Bruschi is, but I probably couldn't identify him on the line, with his helmet on. I can usually figure out which player Randy Moss is, because he's the one holding the ball. But I can't tell most of them apart under the helmets and all the padding. Soccer doesn't interest me, so I haven't bothered pay attention to any of the half-hearted teams here, or the crazier-than-baseball-fans in Europe. (Go Chelsea!) And I've found that I enjoy basketball more when I don't know who the teams are, or care who wins, because then I can just cheer for who ever is losing, and be done with it. My brother can talk about the Celtics all he wants, but I honestly can't tell you the names of any of them beyond Kevin Gurnett, and that might not actually be his name. (There you go, google wants to know if I meant Kevin Garnett. Point made.)
And, finally, I think baseball as a sport can claim the best nicknames, hands down. The Human Rain Delay. The Splendid Splinter. The Georgia Peach - possibly the most badass player in the history of the sport, and we remember him as the Georgia Peach. Hit 'Em Where They Ain't. The Flying Dutchman. The Greek God of Walks. And, really, that's not even getting into, say "Babe", or "Stan the Man" or "The Wizard" or "The Iron Horse" or "The Yankee Clipper" or "Cool Papa Bell" or "The Big Unit" or any of the 300+ guys nicknamed "Lefty". (Roger Clemens pointedly left off this list because 20 strike outs or not, I want him to shut up and go away.)
I say all this as a firmly biased baseball fan - and even more biased Red Sox fan - and I would love to hear about why hockey or basketball or cricket is your favorite sport, or why you like the Dodgers or Diamondbacks so much more than the Sox. (Especially if you like cricket, because I keep planning to figure out the rules of that sport, and I just can't. I'm President Bartlet in this sports metaphor.) Talk any kind of sports to me, guys, because we're only one month into the season, and I will be talking a lot more baseball in the future.
A couple quick things:
If you love me at all, you'll go here and vote for Kevin Youkilis for the All Star Game. He's the best defensive first baseman in the history of the game (the numbers don't lie, man), he switched seamlessly from first to third all month (including in the middle of several games), he's been at the top of (and occasionally leading) the league in batting, and he still sports some of the most impressive facial hair in baseball. And I love his dorky ass self. So. VOTE.
Fic You Must Read: Not the Music in Me. Supernatural/High School Musical. No, really. Actual summary: You know how at the end of High School Musical you found yourself thinking 'You know, someone really needs to write a Supernatural bodyswap crossover with this'? Wait, you didn't? By far the funniest (non-Red Sox) thing I've seen all week. (I'm having vague recollections of a fic from a few months back where Gabriella was a demon, and Sam and Dean had to get rid of her - ring any bells? Anyone know where I can find it? I'm not creative enough to have made that up.)
Old Red Sox Video of the Day: this one right here, where Papelbon asks Youk who the sexiest players on the team are. (And by "old", I mean from last season, but whatever.) "Chicks dig the long ball." I think Paps has some home run envy.
Feel Good Story of the Day: In an NCAA softball game, a senior who had never hit a home run before knocked one out of the park with two runners on - only to badly injure her knee while rounding first, and be unable to continue around the bases. Because the umps said that if anyone from her team touched her, or if a pinch runner was put in to run for her, the home run would be ruled a 2 RBI single instead of a 3 RBI home run, two players from the other team carried her around and helped her touch each base so the home run would count. Her team went on to win 4-2, with her run counting as the official winning run. (The bad part: after the game, the umps double checked the rules, and a pinch runner would have been fine, making the whole thing sweet and very sportsmanlike, but unnecessary.)