Baseball is America
Donald Draper famously reminded us in his masterful Kodak presentation in season one of Mad Men that nostalgia is a Greek word used to describe the pain still suffered from an old wound. Nostalgia is a feeling of remembrance that cuts to the core of the soul. Whether it’s the longing for an unrequited love on a steamy beach in 1969 or an appreciation for simpler times nostalgia knows exactly where to surface.
This is especially true in sports, but perhaps even more so in baseball. Baseball is still America’s past time regardless of what fast action thrills American football has brought to bleachers and recliners. Baseball is a microcosm of American life. Columnist George Will noted that baseball has its judiciary in the umpires and its individual accountability printed in box scores in the newspaper. Imagine waking up every single day and seeing your job performance reported on in the paper and then analyzed by some pencil neck geek who never even swung a bat.
Baseball has always been ahead of major cultural revolutions, the best example is civil rights. Jackie Robinson played the hero on the field long before black men were allowed to take hold of mainstream culture.
Baseball has what other sports lack; romance. I love football and know the deep pain it can cause. After all I live in Atlanta, a city with only one major professional sport championship (baseball!). As a city we recently suffered the worst punch in the gut in likely the history of sports in Super Bowl LI and then, for good measure, we watched in horror as the Georgia Bulldogs lost the National Championship in overtime. It hurts, it hurts bad. But Opening Day is tomorrow and all slates are clean as my first sports love begins.
Baseball nostalgia for me is sitting on my grandfather’s knee when Sid (Bream) slid to win the 1992 NLCS.
It’s watching the dominating threesome of John Smoltz, Tom Glavine, and Greg Maddux carving up teams so efficiently they leave town and go into slumps.
It’s finally witnessing the final out in the 1995 World Series and wearing a god-awful ugly championship sweater to middle school every day for I don’t remember how long.
But, there is heartache. The hurtful times of a Jim Leyrtiz game tying home run in Game 4 against the Yankees in 1996, Joey Devine giving up the walk-off home run after playing 18 innings in Houston, and only one championship out of 14 consecutive divisional titles, etc.
However, baseball is constant through the heartache and joy. It feels good and it hurts, but nothing compares to taking in a game on a warm spring day at the ole ball park surrounded by the sounds of cheering fans, loud drunks, and popcorn vendors. Then there is the smell of hotdogs and overpriced beer wafting over the faces of smiling children. And the nostalgic joy of listening to the call of the game on the radio just like in the days of Murder’s Row.
A writer on Medium provided a list of baseball movies which included The Sandlot. The Sandlot is a perfect example of baseball nostalgia. The story is set in the final days of America’s golden years and harkens us back to memories of playing ball in backyards and streets.
Much can be said about The Sandlot. My favorite scene is when the boyhood friend get to play their only night game of the year. The game is set against the backdrop of 4th of July picnics and lit up by the illumination of fireworks. As the ball goes sailing in the air the boys cannot help to watch the glow of red, white, and blue while Ray Charles sings “America the Beautiful” .
Yes, baseball is both romance and nostalgia. And baseball is America.
PLAY BALL!
Nathan Knight is no name writer by night and criminal investigator by day. Also a lover of family, God, baseball, and coaching. Please recommend and comment; I love criticism.
