Why Baseball is the Best Sport

Even though the baseball season lasts from April through October, it can never be long enough for me. I absolutely agree with Bart Giamatti’s assessment of the end of the season: “It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone."

Why my devotion to this sport that can indeed bring me to tears? Admittedly, I don’t know all of the intricacies of this game—I’ve never even learned to pencil in a scorecard. But I certainly understand its beauty, its history, and its emotional impact.

When a double play is executed well, it resembles a carefully choreographed ballet. In fact, if one looks carefully at the entire ball field, all of the players are moving or preparing to move. As the bat meets the ball, the dance begins in earnest….the batter running to first—a fielder scooping up the ball—the first baseman reaching out his hand. Baseball is truly a beautifully choreographed art. One time when I was watching the Atlanta Braves, the sound went out; the network played opera music while the technical glitch was worked on. Only in a baseball game could this substitution have worked. Like opera, baseball has its overture (batting practice), its various acts (1st through 8th innings) and then its climax (the finale)—which can be tragic or comic, depending on which team you’re rooting for.

Baseball also has a deep-rooted history and goes back to the Civil War—and even before this. Soldiers played baseball to relieve boredom between battles in our nation’s bloodiest war ever. The Black Sox tore at people’s faith in celebrities, while Babe Ruth restored it. Baseball integrated before the public schools were legally held responsible. During war, tumult, good and bad economic times, baseball has endured and often helped Americans endure.

In fact, baseball’s emotional impact is its greatest legacy. Field of Dreams resonated with so many people because of the poignant father-son catching scene at the end of the movie. Many individuals, myself included, have found baseball to be the bridge between two very different people in the same family. My father was profoundly mentally ill and understandably, out relationship was often strained. But we could always agree on baseball. Every season we picked the possible winners and I won most of the time—or at least Dad said I did. I’m glad he lived long enough to see our beloved White Sox win the World Series in 2005. I called him to exult, playing the “Go Go White Sox” song for him on the telephone.

When the baseball season ends, I admittedly feel a kind of emptiness. I look forward to spring training beginning and have resolved to travel to Arizona one of these days and catch some Sox pre-season games. Winter can be a difficult time, often bereft of sun, and always lacking greenery and baseball. But spring brings renewal—more light, vegetation, and most important, baseball.