Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.
— From“Casey at Bat” by Ernest Lawrence Thayer, 1888
The ALCS is over. And for my team, the season is over. The Yankees lost and are headed home. The Rangers won and are headed to the Fall Classic that little boys dream of—the World Series.
Yet, as the umpire signaled “Strike Three!” to end the game; as the home crowd erupted in a celebration never before heard in this town; and as my beloved Yankees simply walked off the field defeated, I had a smile on my face. Not because of the outcome of the game or the series, but because of what this has done for so many people around this town.
Weeks ago, many of the people now cheering for the Rangers would have told you that baseball is a boring sport. That there’s not enough action to it. That it just doesn’t have the appeal that a basketball or football or hockey game has.
And I can understand that argument. People say that because there’s no 60-yard HD screen hanging from the rafters. There are no half-nude dancers running onto the field during every break. There’s no obnoxious announcer working the crowd into a frenzy. No crazy strobe lights. No ridiculously loud music during play. It’s simply about the game.
Oh sure, in today’s society, we try to trick it up. We add dot races and lights around the stadium. We think bringing in high-tech instant replay will make the game better (although that then takes away the human element of baseball—something that is both infuriating and invigorating at the same time…but something that makes baseball, baseball).
But baseball is, and will always be, a slow game that requires patience…both to play and to watch. Baseball is the only sport of the “big 4” where strength of will and wit will often pay greater dividends than brute power.
But the excitement of anticipating a 3-2 pitch; the fervor that comes with ducks on the pond and nobody out; the intensity of waiting for your favorite player to make his way from the on-deck circle to the batter’s box in the bottom of the 9th—these are the things about baseball that draw me in. This is what I love about the game.
You see, it’s not just about wins and losses. Yes, I have a favorite team. Yes, I cheer for them to win. But there’s more to it than that. There’s something magical about going to the ballpark and watching BP. There’s something intoxicating about pouring over the stats and numbers, trying to figure out who plays best in what situation. There’s something innocent and pure about remembering my childhood and talking baseball with my grandfather.
Over the last few weeks, this is what baseball has become to a lot of people in this town. And when the Yankees lost last night, baseball won even more fans.
I just hope that continues next year…when the Yankees win again!
