Get offa my manicured diamond
How do you lament the passing of what was without sounding like a cranky, grumpy old person?
I’m talking about baseball. That once flowing, pastoral summertime release from the workaday life that inspired plays and poetry and which has morphed into…not that.
Instead of sonnets we get spreadsheets. It has become a cold, calculating affair, run by analysts. With spin rates and launch angles, WAR++, shifts and lefty-righty percentages dominating the dialogue and defining the sport.
It’s strikeouts, home runs and 3+ hours of little else for your $300 excursion. No bunts, no steals, no hit-and-runs. It is now a cartoon-like affair, with none of the sophistication or wit of a classic Looney Tunes.
I’m struggling to see how anyone is a winner in this latest labor charade. Neither side really seemed interested in making the product more desirable, being more fixed on their self-interests. What, exactly, has been gained here? And more important, why should I invest any more time or mental energy on this charade sport?
Fans should go on strike. I already largely have, my kids don’t care and neither do their friends. Maybe the powers that be already know they’ve lost the sport and are just playing for the spoils. It’s the only possibility that seems remotely logical in explains present behavior.
I could go on, but I’ve decided to arbitrarily reduce the length and action in this week’s post. Like an MLB double header, we’re giving you a little less for your buck this week. In return, we share this video gem. May it take a bit of the sting off your wish for what once was, but will sadly not be again.
Your closing words evoke this from "Field of Dreams": "This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and that could be again." If only.