Time to Think

By Hank Silverberg

Talkin’ Baseball

       Can you hear it? The crack of the bat? The smack of the ball in the glove? The chatter of the infielders? The boys of summer are back at it in Florida and Arizona getting ready for the start of a new baseball season, and that has made my heart flutter.

       Like millions of people across the country, America’s pastime brings out the good things in life: sitting in the bleacher seats with your dad or your high school buddies, the smell of the fresh cut grass , the taste of a steamed hot dog and some Cracker Jacks.

    If you played the game on any level like I did, from 8 to 62 ,the renewal each spring reminds you of that great catch you made to save the game at 15, that bonehead play you made to lose a game at 21, or the dive to catch a fly ball that resulted in a separated shoulder at 55 years old. What happens between the foul lines takes you away from the real world for a few hours, whether that’s the turmoil of the 1960’s or the 

turbulence of this past month.

     I really can’t explain it. But somehow watching a 435 foot home run over the left field wall or strike three with two on and two out in the bottom of the ninth is sheer joy.  

   Baseball has its stars. In my childhood, Carl Yastrzemski could do no wrong. But more than any other, it is a team sport, where everyone on the field must work together to win the game. Winning sometimes involves a “sacrifice” fly and the object is to always get your teammate safely "home".     

   Baseball is not just a professional game. It is played on street corners, in backyards or rocky fields, all across America. Boys, and thank heavens, these days girls too, set out each spring with a fresh start hoping that by the time the leaves start to turn color in the fall, they will be on top. If not, there’s always next year.  

It can sometimes be a complex sport. But you don’t have to understand the “infield fly rule” or a “doubles defense” to enjoy watching it. And you don’t have to throw a “cutter” or hit like Yastrzemski to play it.   

This time of year there is a lot of talk about free agent signings and speculation about who has the best bull pen or lineup and the best game plan. But for me, spring really comes when the nine-year-old puts on the first Little League uniform and heads for the opening game with grandpa. It’s also about the next night when grandpa takes out the old spikes and glove and heads to his softball game, where his speed around the bases is slow, his throw is a bit short and the joints will take days to stop hurting.  The joy of rounding third base and dashing for home should be part of everyone’s life at some point.  It brings renewal, makes you feel young again and always makes you think of next year.

  Baseball is also symbolic of life in America. Some teams are rich, some teams are poor. Some are underdogs, scrapping for every run and every win with utility players and untested rookies holding up aging superstars who have lost their edge. They must compete with other teams stacked with talented underachievers without much chemistry who think more of themselves than the team.  

Baseball has traditionally played a leading role in healing the nation in times of trouble. The decision to keep the major leagues playing during World War Two was a major morale boost on the home-front. Dodgers owner Branch Rickey’s decision to break the color barrier in 1946 by hiring Jackie Robinson was an early step in the civil rights movement. It was baseball again which helped a nation heal in 2001 when it resumed play seven days after the 9-11 attacks. New York got a particular boost.

Now we are again in a troubling time.  Our team (the United States) is struggling because too many underachievers are looking out for themselves. The rich players are getting richer and the valuable role players are getting poorer. We no longer dominate on the world stage because our manager has no game plan. He can’t see past the next inning and he keeps releasing his coaches and reshaping the lineup.  We have lost more games than we’ve won and our chance of finishing on top of the world diminishes inning by inning. The team is just not working together.  

But spring brings renewal and hope. There is still a chance that a group of rookies from Parkland, Florida, and other places across the country can push some of the older players to step up their game and get the job done.

I wanted to write much more about health care, gun control, nuclear proliferation, free trade and the bully pulpit and make more comparisons between baseball and the real world. But the point has been made. Besides, I just started thinking of the joy I got from the only walk off hit I ever produced when I was 60-years-old.That's when My fingers just stopped typing. It was time to go play ball.

  

                   (Your comments and topic suggestions are welcome in the section below.)  

       (Coming soon to this space a chapter in my new book, "The Campaign" which is available at Amazon.com, BN.com or hanksilverbergbooks.com