Baseball season is upon us. I love this time of the year. I’ve already watched Field of Dreams … yet again. I’ve experienced my first pre-season disappointment, learning that three of the Yankees’ starting pitchers won’t be ready when the season begins. Of those three, one will be back in the rotation in two months, and another (our best pitcher) will be out for the entire season. I’ve begun listening to the analysts and prognosticators on Sirius and ESPN. And, I’ve begun tuning into spring training games on satellite radio. Maybe best of all, a dear friend recently gave me a baseball signed by my boyhood hero, Bill “Moose” Skowron (a Yankees first baseman from eons ago).
There’s something about baseball that taps into memories, Americana, and relationships. I remember baseball games when I was a kid. My dad would announce Asheboro High School and McCrary Eagles baseball games from McCrary Park in my home town. He would take me with him. In my mind back then, it was like winning the lottery. I’m not sure what made me more proud – watching my home team take the field or watching my dad speak into the microphone. Probably, it was the latter. I remember playing Little League and Pony League baseball a few years later. I was good … until pitchers reached an age when they learned how to throw a curve. Fast balls I could hit all day. But, curves? They were the reason I gave up hoping to become the next Moose Skowron. I remember going with my dad, uncle, cousin, and numerous hometown friends to Washington, DC, where we saw three games. Frank Howard played for the Senators back then. Mantle, Maris, Berra, and “Moose” played for the Yankees. Disney World would have paled in comparison. Years later, I watched my sons play little league. And, I got to take them to minor league games. My older son and I and my son-in-law and I still do that sometimes whenever either of them has a summer evening free. Baseball is not just a game. It is a repository of cherished memories.
It is also a part of our history and culture that brings us together, despite the national deepening divide that could eventually be our doom. The history of America, especially since the turn of the 20th century, parallels baseball. Grover Alexander and Oscar Charleston got us through WWI. Babe Ruth and Ty Cobb got us through the Depression. Joe Dimaggio and Ted Williams did the same during WWII. Satchel Paige, Josh Gibson, “Smokey” Joe Williams, and Cool Papa Bell reminded us of the racial inequities that tragically divided us. Jackie Robinson inspired us that walls as high as those in Jericho can eventually be toppled.
And then, there are relationships. Old and young, people of every color, men and women, rich and poor, Democrats and Republicans, people of all religious faiths or nations of origin, all folks – however different – become a “community” when we enter a ballpark, put on a team cap, get a hotdog, and hear the umpire say, “Batter up!” In line waiting to purchase ice cream or Coke in a cup barely smaller than a swimming pool, strangers greet other strangers with courtesy and conversation. “We’re playing well tonight.” “Great weather for a game.” “Wow! Did you see that guy stretch a single into a triple?” “Are those your grandchildren? Make sure they cheer for the right team!” We smile. We laugh. We relate. And, as already noted, often we spend time at games with friends, families, or loved ones. And for those brief moments, the troubles in our broken world are left behind while sports and love are celebrated.
The Winston-Salem Dash is our local minor league team. Their new season begins April 2. We host a team from Kannapolis. A lot of people will be there. We won’t ask each other who we voted for or if we share a similar faith or what our terminal educational degrees were. We’’ll just be a family of baseball fans, cheering together, laughing together, standing in line for fattening food together, and making memories. Good memories. It’s just two weeks from tonight. It can’t come quickly enough. Tons of people agree with me about that. At the moment, we’re already singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame.