How Can You Not Be Romantic About Baseball?
There’s debate about who first posed that iconically poignant question— some credit filmmaker Ken Burns in his 1994 documentary “Baseball” while others point to Billy Beane in the 2011, Brad Pitt led film Moneyball.
Regardless, if you’re reading this I probably don’t have to answer that question for you.
The truth is, like every other aspect of life, it isn’t always romantic. But, man— when it is, it really is— and Wednesday’s series clinching rubber match spearheaded by Randy’s game-tying, 8th inning Grand Slam, in tandem with Friday and Saturday’s victories over the Rangers is a perfect microcosm for exactly that.
One of the biggest ironies about baseball is that in a sport where they play 162 games a season, (versus a sport like American football where they play 17, or even basketball where they play 82), it feels like baseball is the only one where a single game can change everything. Mathematically that seems counter-intuitive, but in a game all about feel, it sure does feel that way to me.
Why is this? And what, exactly, makes it romantic?
To me— it comes down to 3 main things, all based around momentum and all bleeding into each other:
1.) The Environment of a Clubhouse & the Idea of Sustained Confidence;
Every professional team sport has a “clubhouse” so-to-speak, both physically and metaphorically. But there is a reason we refer to it as the “locker room” in most other contexts. Objectively, major league baseball is far and away the sport where the team as a whole is forced to spend the most time together, both during play and in adjacent down time. It’s one of the only games where a set duration of “time” doesn’t directly dictate wins and losses, often leading to more on-field time together, and (as already mentioned) a season that consists of 162 (!) games which lends way to many-a-plane ride, communal meals, and rain-delayed passages of time spent, inevitably, together. As a result, success as a team is inextricably intertwined with the collective perception, interpersonal vibes, and sustained confidence they feel in each other on a day-to-day basis.
In a team sport where success is more-often-than-not attributed to “approach” and mental fortitude instead of physical dominance, the reality of whether a group of people believe in each other versus not makes all the difference.
On Friday night after the team’s first back-to-back wins of the season we could hear loud music blaring in the clubhouse. A sure sign of guys having a good time in response to an important win. And a team having a good time as a result of an important win breeds confidence, not only in baseball, but in just about everything life has to offer.
2. The Mechanics and Functions of Baseball Compared to Other Sports;
Our favorite pastime possesses unique qualities that manufacture a certain brand of fondness in juxtaposition to other sports. One of the quirkiest functions of baseball is that it forces unlikely heroes to do their part. Personally, I love that. Unlike other sports where you can put the ball in your best players hands on any given possession, baseball requires each player to take their turn regardless of the situation, often leading to the thrill of celebrating a big moment coming from someone you’d never see it coming from. To me, that’s beautiful.
Furthermore, the rules of baseball eliminate the boring reality of manipulating time to gain a competitive advantage. No matter how much you’re up in the 9th, you gotta let the home team bat in the bottom half.
To quote former manager Earl Weaver, “You can’t sit on a lead and run a few plays into the line and just kill the clock. You’ve got to throw the ball over the damn plate and give the other man his chance. That’s why baseball is the greatest game of them all.”
Other sports aren’t inherently barren of these qualities, but in basketball for example, the OKC Thunder can force the ball in SGA’s hands to take the last shot of the game in hopes of giving their team the best chance to win, always. With 2 outs in the bottom of the 9th, the Mariners may be forced to rely on Miles Mastrobouni to show up in a big spot and keep the game alive. In football, if your team is down by 21 points in the fourth, the other team can use carefully crafted mathematical calcula— well, you get it. You’re toast. In baseball there is always a chance to come back— no matter the score, no matter the inning.
In the context of our recent 3 game winning streak, Randy and Cal aren’t by any means unsuspecting heroes, but it was clutch hits by first time Mariners and long-term journeymen Miles Mastrobouni and Donavon Solano to set it up on Wednesday, and an ice-cold relief performance by Carlos Vargas on Friday that kept our hopes alive.
3.) Fan Bases That Spend So Much Time Watching and Caring
From the end of winter to the beginning of fall there is a baseball game on practically everyday. Whether you are glued to the screen, or just have it on for background noise, day-in-and-day-out you can watch/listen to your favorite team attempt to either claw out a much needed victory, or lose a soul-stirring heartbreaker late. There is a particular kind of visceral rhythm that stems from this uniquely ever-present company. And it isn’t a one way street— while the fans are inherently reliant on the franchise, the franchise is inherently reliant on the fans. Without Mariners fans to pay for beers, hot-dogs, subscription services, and jerseys there are no Mariners. And even with money-stuff aside, the vibes in the stands mirror the vibes in the clubhouse—perhaps even fueling them at times. It’s an emotional back and forth— and as fans we share the same journey of peaks and valleys as the players, with immediate feedback every single day.
We don’t just follow a team, we live with it.
Baseball doesn’t always promise joy, but it does promise to show up— and if that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is.
Terrace Club Blues 