Nature is taunting. As the mounds of snow melt away to reveal the semi−green of Tufts' campus, spring seems imminent. Though a few more bitterly cold days will probably keep the sunshine at bay for now, certain students on campus — baseball fans, to be exact — are already following spring training and gearing up for the 2011 season.
"Baseball is spring and spring is coming," Director of the Latino Center Ruben Salinas−Stern, a die−hard Major League Baseball follower, said.
Team loyalty runs deep, especially in the Northeast. With so many squads to choose from — the Yankees, Red Sox, Phillies, Mets and Orioles, among others — it isn't difficult to find people who love and actively root for their favorites. And it may be even easier to find those who actively trash rivals.
"There are some people who have allegiances that I deeply respect," freshman Jamie Hoagland, a Red Sox fan, said. "For example, the Cubs. It's like whipping yourself in the back. But the Yankees are not a team; they're mercenaries. They're hired guns."
It's naturally easier to find Red Sox and Yankees fans on campus. With Massachusetts and New York among the most−represented states at Tufts, it is not uncommon to find born−and−bred enthusiasts of either team.
Massachusetts native Rob Carter, a freshman and Red Sox aficionado, was particularly effusive about "his" team's recent success.
"The 2004 World Series was the best day of our lives," Carter said, speaking for Red Sox fans collectively.
As demonstrated by last year's World Series, in which the San Francisco Giants snagged the title, the baseball obsession certainly isn't limited to the East Coast. Freshman Jaime Morgen, who hails from the Bay Area, admits she abandoned all homework last year to watch her team in the World Series. But how widespread is this fanaticism at Tufts?
If fan support at Tufts' own games serves as an indicator, the community can't be deemed sports−obsessed. Stern, who runs a team called "Ruben's Cubans" in the Latino Center's fantasy baseball league, agrees that the sports scene on campus seems a bit subdued — though not for lack of success on the NESCAC−winning baseball team's part.
"I used to work in public schools and sports were a big deal," Stern said. "And I felt when I got here, sport wasn't a big passion. Maybe it's academia."
According to Professor Sol Gittleman, that just might be.
"I don't root anymore. I thought it would be unfair for my students to think of me as a partisan," Gittleman said. "But I still go to Fenway [Park] and as a kid I was a Yankees fan. I knew everything."
Though Gittleman may no longer openly favor the Yankees, he did write a book about the team titled "Reynolds, Raschi and Lopat: New York's Big Three and the Great Yankee Dynasty of 1949−1953" (2007).
Even without the luxury of openly gloating on behalf of Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez and the like, Gittleman's passion for baseball endures. An entire bookcase devoted to tomes about the sport stands prominently in his office.
Gittleman currently teaches the seminar America and the National Pastime — that pastime, of course, is baseball. The course covers baseball's history from the Civil War to the present. For Gittleman, baseball is more than a sport — it's a major piece of American history.
"[Baseball] is really a mirror of what America has been," Gittleman said. "Race, integration, segregation, all of that."
Director of the Office of Diversity and Education Margery Davies also appreciates the sport for its rich history and colorful characters. Davies can often be found gardening in Red Sox−branded Crocs while listening to baseball games on the radio, but she doesn't count herself among the truly obsessed.
"I know I'm not a real fan because I would never cry [over a game]," Davies said. "It's a business and I think the ticket prices are terrible."
Lecturer of Education Steven Cohen — who counts himself among the Mets' devotees — has no qualms about openly picking sides.
"As a Mets fan, by definition you have to hate the Yankees," he said.
Cohen was working at the Cambridge School in Weston, Mass. when the Mets made it to the World Series in 1986. After driving to Shea Stadium for Game 7, a rainout pushed the showdown against the Red Sox back a day. Cohen was determined to witness his team's victory and, after alerting the school that he wouldn't be at work, Cohen cheered the Mets to a historic World Series win. Upon his return, the excitement of the game still had not died down.
"The next morning, I had a group of kids lined up at my door," Cohen said.
Only after numerous "congratulations" had been murmured, Cohen said, was school officially in session. Maybe baseball can trump academia, at least for one day.
