Last night we went to the Reds game. Yes, it was pretty hot, but we managed to survive. The Reds, however, did not. They got beat pretty badly. I haven’t been a big baseball fan since the Indians went to the world series in 1995 (and then broke my heart), but, still, there are things I like about baseball and going to the park made me remember some of those things.
1) Fights! Oh, yes, I love baseball fights. I don’t know why it’s sort of disturbingly exciting to see any fight (maybe because it

Fight, fight, fight!
doesn’t happen very often? or maybe it’s just me and my raised-in-the-Canton-hood mindset?), but baseball fights are exceptionally awesome. Here’s why. The two guys that exchange words are never the only two to fight. The outfield comes running in. The managers come running over. The whole dugout is cleared and there’s no longer a little fight between two guys, but a war between two teams. Those baseball players, they may stand around for 90% of the sport, but they ain’t no weenies. Last night the first batter of the night got into a fight with the catcher. I thought it was a good omen, turns out it wasn’t. Worst part? The first time that catcher (for the Cardinals) was up to bat, we all booed him and then he hit a homerun. That must have been very satisfying for him. Anyway, the picture is the view I had of last night’s fight.
2) No cheerleaders. Yeah, baseball has more dignity than that. But, I must say that I’m not a fan of those stupid fuzzy monster mascots/nonmascots that every team has now for some reason. I liked the redlegs mascot, but not the dumb monster. But hey, at least there weren’t any annoying cheerleaders (speaking as a one-year-only annoying cheerleader).
3) Pop-up foul balls. I’m not sure if that’s exactly how you say it, but I like when the foul balls go really high and then into the stands. The going really high part is important because 1) when the foul balls come flying directly at you, you fear you might die and 2) it builds the “Where’s it going to land? Do I have a chance?” excitement. Last night I think I saw the best foul ball catch in history. The ball popped straight up and directly backward toward the windows where the announcers and television people sit. A few of the windows were open and a single hand, reached out and snatched the ball and then disappeared. It was so weirdly anticlimactic and mechanical that it seemed kind of like a joke. It was awesome.
4) Putting the fans on the big screen. I don’t know why I get kicks from seeing kids staring off in a daze, only to be shaken by their parents, pointing to the screen trying to tell them that they’re on, looking around and then waving like crazy. Last night they did the “Kiss cam” where they point the camera at couples and then they are supposed to kiss. It was cute. But then at the end, they put the camera on two of the Cardinals. They noticed, stared at the camera for a second, and the one guy grabbed the other and laid one on his cheek. I like a good sense of humor.
5) The music that each of the batters pick to play when they are at bat. I think it’s interesting to hear what the players pick and it gives me a few moments to dance in my seat. I especially like the hip hop selections. I was very excited, though, to hear that Henry Rolen had picked Viva La Vida by Coldplay. I can’t resist movement during that song. If I was up to bat, my choice, hands down, would be Gold Digger.
6) The changing of the pitcher. I don’t know why, but I think when they decide to change pitchers, it’s sort of regal ceremony. The manager and the catcher walk to the mound with their heads down, solemnly. A few other serious looking guys join them. The pitcher remains calm, nodding. The whole group exits as the relief pitcher is released from the bull pen. This is especially fun during a championship series when they have a big closer and they make the release from the bull pen extra dramatic (I’m thinking of good ol’ Jose Mesa!).
7) The slowness of the sport. I like the fact that people, for the most part, sit casually at baseball games. Their relaxed state is punctuated only by occasional excitement. There are nine innings nicely paced by the rituals of the batters and the pitchers, scraping the dirt with their toe, tapping home plate with their bat, taking a couple of slow practice swings, swaying carefully before settling into their own careful stance, while the pitcher tosses the rosin bag and pauses with the uncanny ability to slow down time and capture everyone’s breath before they make their slow-motion pitch that somehow manages to speed up to 90mph. This goes on through the tops and the bottoms of innings, requiring a 7th inning stretch (which I like a lot). Being at a baseball games makes it easy to imagine what it felt like to live in a “simpler time” (whether or not that is something that really ever existed). I like to imagine that as I watch this familiar American scene, it could just as easily be 1920 as 2010. A few seats in front of us, there was a frail elderly man with wispy white hair, wearing a tailored long-sleeved shirt in the 93 degree heat, holding his grandson (or great grandson?) on his lap watching the same game I imagine he has watched since he was just as small.
An aside: Of course, as I wake from that nostalgic dream, I know that the baseball players of yesteryear were slimmer, hit less home runs (because they weren’t all on steroids), played in stadiums that weren’t named for big corporations and actually wore pants that fit. Seriously, what happened to baseball pants anyway? In high school, that would have been number 1 on my list. Baseball pants. In the last 15 years they’ve become a little saggy for my taste.