A Reform Is Needed

The most orthodox elements of many religions are not the most unchanged elements. The truly orthodox, the strict adherents to a cause, are most often members of a reform movement. The Amish, for example, are a reform movement among Mennonites, who themselves are Anabaptists. Likewise the Trappists are a reform of the Cistercians, who are a reform movement of the Benedictines. Hasidim is a relatively recent phenomenon, given the grand history of Judaism, and I have no doubt that the conservatism of the Islamic State owes more to the 21st century than it does to the second.

Reform Is Good

Everyone likes a good reform now and again. There is an argument going on right now about which America we want to have “back”. The idea is that somehow we have lost our way. I agree, but I’m looking for a reform back to the idealized, previously non-existent America that I like… not the one that THEY want. Whatever it is the Trump and his followers pine for, I’m not interested.

I don’t trust Trump’s vision of the perfect past. Why? Well, to start with, Trump is the worst dressed Fascist in history. Stephen Colbert does a better job of wearing an American “sack” suit than Donald Trump. I’m all for turning back the sartorial clock, but Trump ain’t the one to get us there.

Turning back the clock might not be a bad idea, though. In response to globalization, a stalled economy, Islamic extremism, political dysfunction, and nothing new or exciting from McDonald’s for the past six months, we might benefit from some ascetic loin girding. A little bit of muscular Americanism to counteract the cloud of fascism that threatens to envelope our country.

So, where do we turn? What part of the American experience may help us in our time of need? The answer is baseball. Forged during the Civil War, baseball got us through a Depression and two World Wars. It’s the game we were dedicated to the last time we defeated Fascism. Who won World War II? Ballplayers, that’s who. You could look it up.

And that’s not all. Baseball is like a tincture for dictatorship. After we ripped apart the Empire of Japan we injected baseball into their culture and look what it did for them! Japan has been dictator free since they embraced baseball. Causality schmalzality. Correlation is good enough for Medium posts.

A Baseball Reformation

Baseball is religion and, like Jazz, is endemic to America. It’s our game. We should reform it. I’m not talking about fixing Major League Baseball. MLB is apostate. Donald Trump and the people screwing up the country are all fans of Major League Baseball. Pro baseball is a sewer. In Christian parlance, Major League Baseball is “The whore of Babylon.” Its current incarnation is salt that has lost its flavor. Can you make it salty again? No. It has to be put aside and trampled under foot.

The baseball I am talking about is the pastoral, non-contact game of failure. The slow moving, cerebral, stats-heavy contest of slowly developing “situations”, arcane unwritten rules, and overweight players.

For the record, I want to turn back the clock, but not too far. We don’t want to go back to segregated baseball. Black people have always played baseball. Black people made professional and Major League Baseball better.

The hope is that our reform movement will be the first to actually capture the promise of baseball. So, how do we do it?

Start With the Outside

One nice thing about reform movements is they get the symbols right. You start with what you wear and what you eat. When Francis started the Franciscans he gave the brothers those spanky brown robes to wear. The Amish “no button” policy puts their plainness in your face. The baseball reform begins with what the players wear and what the fans can eat.

In our reformed league, players will wear regular uniforms made out of wool or cotton. No names on the back. No extra pads can be worn. No elbow or shin guards, batting gloves, or sunglasses. The players will wear their socks pulled up over the calves and have their stirrups showing.

Fans will be able to eat peanuts, popcorn, Cracker Jacks, sausages, soda and beer. That’s it. No nachos. No pizza. No Bar-B-Que. I’m not being Nativist. I said “sausages”, not “hot dogs”. You want chorizo? You can have chorizo (remember: that’s not just dinner, that’s a biopsy). If you’d prefer linguiça, blutwurst, or Xiang chang, go ahead. The important point is that you are going to the park to watch baseball, not to eat. If you want to eat, go to a restaurant. If you get hungry while watching baseball, have some lips and assholes or fill up on peanuts.

Only Ten Teams

Our league, hereafter called the BOSO (Baseball Order of Strict Observance), would have one team in each of the ten largest cities by population. For those of you without an almanac, that would be: New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, Philadelphia, Phoenix, San Antonio, San Diego, Dallas, and San Jose. Sorry, Boston. If you want a team you have to start being nice to immigrants. Sorry, Detroit. Really. We all feel sick about it.

Financially, teams would be run like a whaling ship. After expenses, the profit of a season would be split as shares among the members of the roster based on the number of innings played plus some other complicated statistical formula that baseball nerds would love to devise and argue about in online forums. Since the games would not be televised, there would be no television revenue. Just gate receipts. Stars could make their big money by endorsing products outside of the game. You know, like Jackie Robinson’s cigarette ads.

The Venue

To enjoy a BOSO game you have to either go to the stadium or listen to it on the radio. Statistics would only be available in the next day’s newspaper. No live stats. No strike counts on the pager. Remember, the MLB blasphemers are about “sports entertainment”. BOSO is not entertainment. It is baseball. Therefore, no amplified noise in the stadium other than the organ. No electronic scoreboard. No fan contests between innings. No giveaways. No mascots. No Jumbotron. No wave (it’s a football thing). If you need something to do when the teams are changing sides, score the game.

The Canon

Steroid use has destroyed the statistical integrity of Major League Baseball, so we’re not going to accept all the seasons. We have to get someone with medical knowledge to tell us when steroids came into being, and then drop the statistics after that. We could publish the non-canonical statistics it in the BOSO pseudopygrapha… you know, like the story of Daniel in the Lion Den. I’m not sure when the cutoff date would be. Some time after Hank Aaron and Before Mark McGuire.

The Rules

Others have a lot more to say than I do on this. No DH. Raise the mound. Enforce the strike zone. Etc., Etc. This is the boring stuff. You know, like those five hour Amish church services. I mean, it’s not all about the hats. 
It’s about Them vs. Us.

The point is that eventually everyone will say “look at those freaks watching that moldy old game.” We won’t care. They are baseball blasphemers… fans who have traded the great, rural, democratic game for “sports entertainment.” Blessed are you when people tell you that you watch a boring game. Verily, verily, I say unto you, just keep watching and maybe a situation will develop.