Baseball: The truly miraculous game

Let’s look at a few of the stupendous things that happened this week on the ballfield:

• Two seven-run innings by the Yankees humbled the bottom-of-the-division Red Sox in quick order. Of note, the Sox were up 9-0 at one point, proving such a seemingly insurmountable lead can be overcome.
• Jamie Moyer of the Rockies became the oldest major leaguer in history, at 49 years young, to win a ballgame.
• And the Blue Jays turned their first triple play in 33 years. (Speaking of triple plays, the Dodgers turned a 2-5-6-3 triple play against the Padres a week prior, something that hasn’t been done in 130 years and the first that featured a putout at third, second and first, in that order.)

A few of the above were mentioned by the esteemed Bob Shieffer of CBS’ Face The Nation Sunday:

He said a whole lot more, too.

Of the things Bob touches on, one of the more interesting to me, is his “seen the light” mention. It’s exceedingly difficult, many times impossibly so, for people to comprehend the game of baseball as anything but boring. Nothing could be further from the truth. There is something going on in every single moment of the game. Every. Single. Moment. As well, there’s something about being at a ballgame and sitting back quietly watching the action unfold … discussing what’s happening down on the field with a friend … putting your opinion out there to the dude sitting next to you … debating where that player should have thrown the ball … what the next pitch is going to be. If you understand any of these things, you understand baseball.

And, every once in a while, you get the privilege of seeing an event similar to what happened last week … a no hitter or an exceptional play or that game winning grand slam.

That Sox collapse the other day? I was witness to such a catastrophe long ago. The Los Angeles Dodgers were up 11-1 going into the 8th inning at Chavez Ravine. Long story short, over the course of a couple innings I saw the St. Louis Cardinals best them at the final missed strike, 12-11. Disappointing as all get-out, sure … but I was there. And it bolstered an argument I have with anyone I go to a game with who wants to ditch out during the 7th inning stretch: You never leave a game until the last out is recorded because you just don’t know what’s going to happen. I have a ton of stories like this. Literally.

Sure, football and hockey and basketball and other sports have their uniqueness and moments. But I’m going to mention two things they don’t have. One of them is a 162-game season. 162 games. That’s a whole lot of opportunity to witness spectacular action, mind-numbing defeat and everything in between.

Another great thing about baseball is this: There’s no time limit. The game is over when it’s over. It can zip along at a couple hour clip or it can last 6 hours plus. Which, when you think about it, is perfect. Perfect for family time or to reflect on something other than the plague of Life right now — the need for the instant gratification of “the need to know right now.”

“Some criticize the game for being slow
but ‘it’s slowness allows us to notice the specialness of life’ …”

I know exactly what Bob is talking about. There’s a reason baseball is our “National Pastime.”

Quote:

“To me, baseball’s great lesson is how to deal with failure. In baseball, as in life, even the best fail more often then they succeed. The .300 hitter fails to get a hit 7 out of 10 times. But baseball teaches that over the long season if you put your daily losses aside, go back to the ballpark the next day and play the game right, you’ll win your share of games.” – Bob Shieffer

Clacked by Michael Noble
on Apr 22, 2012 @ 15:37 EST5EDT