Musings from the CU Suite

Nov 01, 2012

Why I Love Baseball

Written by Anthony Demangone

Now that the World Series is far enough in my rear-view mirror, it is safe to talk about baseball again without thinking of my Nationals' epic collapse against the St. Louis Cardinals. 

I love baseball. My grandfather played it.  He loved the Dodgers, until they went west.  He eventually moved on to the Mets.  I always loved the Pirates, until the Nats set up shop in my home town.

For me, there's a lot of magic in baseball.  I think George Will said it best when he quoted an old ballplayer...

Baseball is like church.  Many attend, but few understand. 

Baseball has a lot to teach you, if you let it.

  1. It's OK to fail.  There's a lot of failure in baseball. The world champion Giants lost 68 regular season games this year.  The best hitters make outs more often than not.  "We'll get'm tomorrow, boys."  You don't hear that one enough in business.  I heard it a bunch playing baseball.
  2. Celebrate every success.  A man is on first with one out.  The pitcher puts down a bunt to move him over.  When the pitcher walks down the dugout steps, he will be met by his teammates.  A pat on the back.  A "fist bump."  Baseball has a ton of these little victories over the course of nine innings.  And good ball-clubs celebrate them all. 
  3. Optimism.  I know I'm biased, but I think baseball is the sport of optimism.  We'll get'm tomorrow.  Or next year.  The Cubs haven't won it all since...well, a while ago.  But they pack Wrigley Field.  The Buccos haven't had a winning record since 1992.  But they got hot this Spring, and fans started exchanging nervous smiles in PNC Park.  No matter how bad you are in the standings, you can win today.  Even the worst teams won more than 50 games this year. Our high school coach used to say this after a loss.  "Boys, our winning streak starts tomorrow." Optimism is one of the best things in life. 
  4. Teamwork.  One of the most beautiful plays in all of sports is the double play.  It involves three players working in tandem to kill a rally.  The twin killing is the epitome of teamwork, and baseball celebrates it.  As does poetry. 
These are the saddest of possible words:

"Tinker to Evers to Chance."

Trio of bear cubs, and fleeter than birds,

Tinker and Evers and Chance.

Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble,

Making a Giant hit into a double –

Words that are heavy with nothing but trouble:

"Tinker to Evers to Chance."

So, perhaps the NFL takes center stage for now.  Talk of big hits, touchdown celebrations, and quarterback ratings are all fine and good.

But I'll keep an eye on the calendar.  When Spring rolls around, you'll know where to find me.  I'll be at Nationals Park.  Because the Nationals are winning it all next year.  I can just feel it.Â