Baseball

I’ll admit right off that writing about a sport – any sport – is a bit out of my element. I am the least athletic person I’ve ever known and, in spite of having a son who is a rabid sports fan and participant, I generally know nothing about sports of any kind. And my interest level pretty much matches my knowledge level.

But even I know that this is the time of year for the World Series. I know this because it is also the time of year when journalists, commentators and sports announcers wax eloquent about the great American Pastime that is Baseball. Over the years some of the funniest essays I’ve ever read have been attempts to explain to the ‘unbeliever’ why Baseball is such a great sport. The thing is, actual reasons elude people.

True Baseball allure seems to be more about the stadiums and the hot dogs than anything. Or maybe it is the ‘crack’ of the bat when it finally connects with a ball. People give vague references to childhood visits to major league parks and how they thrilled to the sounds and smells, the green of the grass, the glare of the sun, the yells of the crowds, the brightness of the scoreboard. Even the memorabilia and the convoluted statistics records are cited by some as part of the attraction. No one seems to really talk about the game itself – but that doesn’t seem to matter. I guess you either get it, or you don’t.

And the funny thing is – I think I do! Play ball!