Matt Mertens, I thank you. The entire week I was trying to think of a way to open my column, and you gave it to me.
After reading your column, Matthew, I stumbled across these words: "Some might call baseball stately and a gentlemen's game, but I prefer 'boring.'" Since I was going to write about the social aspects of baseball anyway, I figured addressing this criticism of the sport would be a good place to start. Rest assured, I'm not attacking you but using you as a springboard to express an opposing view (hey, the Daily needs something to tell us apart).
I'm pretty much the opposite of Mr. Mertens. Ever since that fateful day in October when Carlos Beltran struck out looking to end the Mets' season, I've been counting down the seconds until Opening Day (my waiting yielded fruitful results, as the Mets not only won their opener but swept the Cardinals, outscoring them 20-2 in the process). Granted, it might be because there is no baseball team in Oregon, but I love the game so much it wouldn't matter which team I watched.
Yes, baseball can be slow at times ... sometimes painfully slow. But the game only becomes boring depending on the situation. In the bottom of the ninth inning with the home team trailing by one, all those mannerisms you speak of, such as the pitcher walking around the mound and the batter calling timeout, add to the drama and anticipation of the situation. It's all psychological, which, at least to me, is interesting.
True, when a team is up 16-0 in the seventh inning, and all the scrubs are in, there isn't exactly a lot of drama. There are still plenty of interesting things that could happen. One of my favorite occurrences in a blowout is watching players at unfamiliar positions. During one Mets game back in 1999 against the Atlanta Braves, the Mets trailed by about 14 runs.
Needless to say, many starters were out, and everyone was all over the place. Roger Cede?±o, an outfielder, was playing second base; Rick Reed, a starting pitcher, was in right field; and Matt Franco, a career pinch hitter, was pitching. Even though the Mets lost big time, it was entertaining to watch.
Baseball's slow pace is what makes it a social sport. The time in between pitches, in between at-bats, and in between innings allows for chatter amongst fans, analysis of each pitch, or leaving to get a hot dog. Time in between innings can be time spent getting to know the fans around you.
There's also just something about going to a baseball game that is, for lack of a better word, fun. Last year during reading period, I got sick of studying and decided to go to a Red Sox game with my friend Jordan. I had absolutely no interest in the Sox or their opponents, the Toronto Blue Jays, but the experience of being at Fenway (see last week's column) with a friend and taking in the feeling that is live baseball is indescribable.
In addition, due to the long season, there is a certain bonding experience that happens with baseball fans.
The fans are in it for the long haul - all 162 games - from Opening Day to the dog days of summer to the crisp autumn days.
By the postseason (if your team is good and/or lucky), you have a good idea of what your fellow fans have been through.
This past October, I was not hesitant to talk to random people on campus who were wearing Mets apparel about how the Mets had finally come back from such horrible seasons and were in the playoffs.
Or during the 2000 World Series, I was at Yankee Stadium for Game Two (which featured the infamous Piazza-Clemens bat incident).
With the Mets down 6-0 heading into the top of the ninth, my friend and I moved from the upper level to field level behind home plate.
The Mets posted five runs on the board, leading to a frenzy of high fives from random Mets fans I'd never seen or will see again. All because we share a common bond: a love of the Mets.
Baseball does indeed have its flaws, like any other sport. But there will always be a certain allure, such that whenever spring time rolls around (although as I write this, there is snow on the ground), all I want to hear is "Play ball!"
Matt Kaufman is a sophomore majoring in economics. He can be reached at Matthew.Kaufman@tufts.edu.
