Tag: National Baseball Day

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From My Seat Sports

Pandemic Baseball Day?

CREDIT: Jj Gouin/Dreamstime

Be careful what you wish for in a sports column.

For the better part of two decades, I’ve written in this space about the need for National Baseball Day, a holiday to recognize and celebrate this country’s longtime national pastime. The day would coincide each year with Game 1 of the World Series, Americans from coast to coast would be allowed to stay home with family and friends and — should they choose — watch the Fall Classic together, with the first pitch at 3 p.m. Eastern time, early enough for the youngest baseball fans to see the final out. How is it that a country so devoted to sports and leisure doesn’t have a day on the calendar to formally salute the rewards of recreation? National Baseball Day would check that box nicely.
Jj Gouin/Dreamstime

So, here we are in 2020, and more people will be at home for Game 1 of the World Series — by choice or by pink slip — than in any other year of our lifetimes. A pandemic has slammed doors shut both on business and recreation, those of us fortunate enough to be able to work from our dens and living rooms doing so, while those unable to earn a salary without gathering crowds and cheering audiences . . . endure the best they’re able.

As for the World Series, all games will be played at a neutral site (a “bubble” in pandemic terms), Globe Life Field in Arlington, Texas. Major League Baseball and the state of Texas will allow small “pods” of fans to scatter safe distances within the ballpark. So, yes, there will be some cheering when the Tampa Bay Rays and Los Angeles Dodgers take the field Tuesday for the 116th World Series. (Alas, the game is still scheduled to maximize ad revenue. So, first pitch will be in prime time.) In a year with so much on hold, can baseball’s showcase lift a nation’s spirits?

For anyone with a modicum of affection for baseball history, 2020 has been an absolute kick in the teeth. Al Kaline — for many, the face of the Detroit Tigers franchise — died in April. Tom Seaver — for everyone, the face of the New York Mets franchise — died in August. The two greatest World Series heroes in St. Louis Cardinals history — Lou Brock and Bob Gibson — died within four weeks of each other, just as this year’s postseason arrived. Earlier this month, Whitey Ford died, the most decorated pitcher in New York Yankees history. Three days later, Joe Morgan passed away. Playing for the fabled Big Red Machine of the 1970s (a team that feature Johnny Bench and Pete Rose), Morgan was named MVP after each of Cincinnati’s championship seasons. All of these men were Hall of Famers, all of them World Series heroes from a time that seems further away in 2020 than it did 12 months ago. A packed Busch Stadium cheering Gibson’s 17th strikeout to close Game 1 of the 1968 Series? That’s an image from a dimension we can’t seem to reach, one we now wonder if we’ll ever see again.

The 2020 baseball season was abbreviated, of course. Reduced from 162 games to 60, the campaign was more of a sprint than baseball fans are used to, and 16 teams — six more than has been customary — made the playoff field, an attempt to make sure a rightful champion doesn’t get erased because of the sliced schedule (and yes, more televised playoff games to pad the sagging bank accounts of MLB owners). But the games have indeed been a happy distraction, particularly in the climate of a national election taking place in the most divisive America many of us have seen. The bitter debate over a Supreme Court nominee not your thing? Tune in to see former Memphis Redbird Randy Arozarena slug cowhide for the Rays. Worn out by a U.S. president downplaying a virus that’s killed almost a quarter-million Americans? You gotta see the exuberance Dodger outfielder Mookie Betts brings to the diamond. British writer Charles Kingsley said it best: “All we really need is something to be enthusiastic about.”

My enthusiasm for National Baseball Day is unabated. The sport needs new life, younger life, and it’s getting it on the field in the form of Acuna, Washington’s Juan Soto, and San Diego’s Fernando Tatis Jr. But young fans? Casual fans? They’re diminishing, turning to more modern distractions (many requiring screens and an internet connection). But we can find baseball again, when we find our new normal. Sitting in a ballpark — under sunshine — is my happy place. I’ve missed it in 2020. Which means I’ll appreciate it in ways I haven’t since I was a child, the next time I stare at grass the way God meant it to grow. For now, let’s enjoy a Texas World Series with no teams from Texas. (Hey, the Houston Astros are done. So, the year ain’t all bad.) Cracker Jack tastes good on a couch, too.

Categories
From My Seat Sports

National Baseball Day

Maybe a World Series in our nation’s capital will make the difference. Maybe when the Washington Nationals host the Houston Astros in Game 3 of this year’s Fall Classic — scheduled for this Friday night — enough power brokers will be in attendance to see what those familiar with this column have known for years: America needs National Baseball Day. Sure, the World Series steals a few headlines from football in late October. But it can do more for our country. As for fans turning their attention to the NBA before baseball’s champion is crowned . . . they’re a lost cause on this mission. For the believers out there, though, those who remember moments on the diamond when natural shadows were cast, read on.

Here’s how National Baseball Day would work. On the day Game 1 of the World Series is played — typically a Tuesday — Americans would get to stay home in honor of the sport that gave us Babe Ruth, Willie Mays, and a craving for Cracker Jack. No one plays like we do in the United States. National Baseball Day would bridge the holiday gap between Labor Day and Thanksgiving while celebrating an act of recreation.

The game would start at 3 p.m. Eastern, allowing every child from Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon, to see every pitch, hit, stolen base, and replay review (ugh) if he or she so chooses. Families split across time zones could connect via smart phone and share in the exploits of the latest October hero. Extra bonding time for friends and families around a baseball game. Imagine that.

If you’re not a baseball fan, stop the eye roll. This holiday is for you, too. Take a hike (literally). Grab your rod and reel. See a movie you’ve been meaning to see, and with the right person. Have a picnic lunch. Enjoy a day of leisure, courtesy of the game of baseball.

Television will resist this movement, of course. Those at Fox or TBS or whoever happens to hold the rights to the Fall Classic will rope themselves to the mast of prime-time ad rates. Instead, they might consider another sporting event that does rather well as a stand-alone happening, begun before prime time, with most families together at home: the Super Bowl. Savvy ad execs will recognize their audience for National Baseball Day.

You wonder why kids aren’t wearing Mookie Betts jerseys (outside Boston) or collecting Alex Bregman baseball cards (outside Houston)? It might have something to do with their recent World Series heroics happening after the kids were in bed. One of the most famous moments of the great Derek Jeter’s career was a World Series home run he hit after midnight in New York City. Among baseball’s eternal charms is its everyday quality, 162 games played by each team over six months. But its showcase — its primary sales tool for the next generation — must be the World Series.

National Baseball Day is the first answer to baseball’s woes. You say a holiday requires an act of Congress? Then this is the year you can make a difference. Email your congressman and attach this column. Remind them that what they saw at Nationals Park would have been that much better if an entire country was watching (and those in attendance, squinting) together. Better yet, ask your kids (or grandkids) to write their congressman. It’s more than a sport we’re saving. It’s a country.

Categories
From My Seat Sports

National Baseball Day

“As long as the grass is that luscious green, as long as the uniforms inspire young jaws to sag, and as long as the taste of Cracker Jack and the sound of ball on bat remain the same, baseball will be the delightful diversion to workaday life it was meant to be.”

On September 14th — a Thursday — I spent most of the afternoon watching two baseball teams play for a championship at AutoZone Park. It was a bright, cloudless day, still technically summer, but minus the stifling heat and humidity the season can bring this region of the world between Memorial Day and Labor Day. Game 2 of the Pacific Coast League championship series had been pushed back a day by lingering effects of Hurricane Irma. Since Thursday was “getaway day” for the two teams — the Memphis Redbirds and El Paso Chihuahuas — the game started at noon to accommodate an evening trip to Texas (where the Redbirds would win the title three days later).

It was bliss. For a middle-aged kid still devoted to America’s original pastime, this was as close to National Baseball Day as we’ve come. Sunshine, championship baseball, and a break from work. (In my case, the break absorbed most of the afternoon, and my boss joined me for the late innings, as every boss should for such an event.) When Adolis Garcia crushed an 11th-inning home run for a 1-0, walk-off win for the home team, it was confirmed: the baseball gods were watching.

National Baseball Day will come. It’s taken longer than I’d like, but so did my taste for red wine and Norman Mailer. Some rewards are better appreciated with a long buildup.

Here’s how the holiday would work, in case you’ve missed this column the past 15 years. On the day Game 1 of the World Series is played — typically a Tuesday — Americans would get to stay home in honor of the sport that gave us Babe Ruth, Willie Mays, and the Seventh Inning Stretch. No one plays like we do in the United States. National Baseball Day would bridge the holiday gap between Labor Day and Thanksgiving while celebrating an act of recreation.

The game would start at 3 p.m. Eastern, allowing every child from Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon, to see every pitch, hit, stolen base, and replay review (ugh) if he or she so chooses. Families split across time zones could connect via smart phone and share in the exploits of the latest October hero. Extra bonding time for friends and families around a baseball game. Imagine that.

If you’re not a baseball fan, stop the eye roll. This holiday is for you, too. Take a hike (literally). Grab your rod and reel. See a movie you’ve been meaning to see, and with the right person. Have a picnic lunch. Enjoy a day of leisure, courtesy the game of baseball.

Television will resist this movement, of course. Those at Fox or TBS or whoever happens to hold the rights to the Fall Classic will rope themselves to the mast of prime-time ad rates. Instead, they might consider another sporting event that does rather well as a stand-alone happening, begun before prime time, with most families together at home: the Super Bowl. Savvy ad execs will recognize their audience for National Baseball Day.

The opening quote of this column? I wrote that for Memphis magazine’s October 2003 issue, when my daughters were ages 4 and 1. One is now a freshman in college, the other a sophomore (pitcher!) in high school. This year marks the 30th anniversary of the last daytime World Series game (one ironically played in Minnesota’s abominable Metrodome). Let’s not allow another generation of children to grow up before they can enjoy the magic of National Baseball Day.

Categories
From My Seat Sports

National Baseball Day Redux

Can’t you just hear a long-suffering Chicago Cubs fan in 1958 — a half-century since his team won the World Series — whining? “You know, the Cubs will win the World Series the day a woman is president of the United States.”
Here we are. Unless the Cleveland Indians (enduring their own championship drought of 67 years) can upset their Great Lakes rival, the Cubs will win the World Series within two weeks of a woman — presumably — being elected to the highest office in the country. And here’s the kicker: Hillary Clinton is a Cubs fan.

Planets are aligning, and in baseball’s favor. Which makes the time perfect for National Baseball Day. If anyone can get this done, it’s surely the first president since Teddy Roosevelt to enter the White House during a Chicago Cub reign.

The stretch between Labor Day and Thanksgiving — three long months — screams for a national holiday. A real holiday, with schools and businesses (most of them, anyway) closed, a national pause from the daily grind as days shorten and temperatures drop. Not only would National Baseball Day nicely interrupt this drought, but America would also finally have a holiday celebrating what this country does best: spectator sports.

Here’s how it would work. On the day Game 1 of the World Series is played — typically a Tuesday — Americans stay home in honor of this nation’s original pastime. No one plays like Americans. Entire industries are devoted to recreation. Finally, National Baseball Day would allow us to celebrate these healthy instincts.

The game would begin at 3 p.m. Eastern, allowing every child from Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon, to see every pitch, hit, stolen base, and strikeout if he or she so chooses. Using modern technology, families split across time zones could fire up their computers or smart phones and share in the exploits of the latest World Series hero. Families and friends would have some extra bonding time built around a baseball game. Imagine that.

Not a baseball fan? This holiday is for you, too. No viewing required. Enjoy a picnic with your family (if you live in a warm region). Or catch a movie you haven’t had time to see. Better yet, open that thick book you’ve been meaning to read, but “never have the time.” The idea is to relish a day of leisure, courtesy of baseball.

The TV fat cats will be the hardest to budge. (The last daytime World Series game was played in 1987, and it was indoors, under the roof of the abominable Metrodome.) Fox will cash in this week (particularly with the Cubs in the mix), commercial rates estimated at half a million dollars.

Why mess with such a golden goose? Well, why not consider the possibilities — revenue-wise — if a Series game is broadcast as the centerpiece of a national holiday? With entire families viewing, not simply that 25-45 male demographic considered most attractive. Seems the Super Bowl broadcast has found its way to profitability, with kickoff in the late afternoon on a Sunday. Why must World Series games end after midnight in New York City?

Cubs fans — and Indians fans — understand patience better than most. We’ve waited long enough for National Baseball Day.

Categories
From My Seat Sports

National Baseball Day

A sports column is no place to get political. This being campaign season, though, allow me to dip a toe in the vote-gathering waters. My support, you see, is up for grabs. I won’t plant a Donald Trump sign. (He lost me when he killed the USFL. Haven’t listened to him since.) And Hillary Clinton needs to improve those “likability” numbers (at least in my living room) to earn my vote. But there is a way a presidential candidate — any candidate but Trump, really — could pull me in. Just add National Baseball Day to the platform.

The stretch between Labor Day and Thanksgiving — three long months — screams for a national holiday. A real holiday, with schools and businesses (most of them, anyway) closed, a national pause from the daily grind as days shorten and temperatures drop. Not only would National Baseball Day nicely interrupt this drought, but America would also finally have a holiday celebrating what this country does best: spectator sports.

Here’s how it would work. On the day Game 1 of the World Series is played — typically a Tuesday — Americans stay home in honor of this nation’s original pastime. No one plays like Americans. Entire industries are devoted to recreation. Finally, National Baseball Day would allow us to celebrate these healthy instincts.

The game would begin at 3 p.m. Eastern, allowing every child from Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon, to see every pitch, hit, stolen base, and strikeout if he or she so chooses. Using modern technology, families split across time zones could fire up their computers or smart phones and share in the exploits of the latest World Series hero. Families and friends would have some extra bonding time built around a baseball game. Imagine that.

Not a baseball fan? This holiday is for you, too. No viewing required. Enjoy a picnic with your family (if you live in a warm region). Or catch a movie you haven’t had time to see. Better yet, open that thick book you’ve been meaning to read, but “never have the time.” The idea is to relish a day of leisure, courtesy of baseball.

The TV fat cats will be the hardest to budge. (The last daytime World Series game was played in 1987, and it was indoors, under the roof of the abominable Metrodome.) Upwards of $200 million in ad revenue will go into the FOX coffers, depending on how long the Series goes. Why mess with such a golden goose? Well, why not consider the possibilities — revenue-wise — if a Series game is broadcast as the centerpiece of a national holiday? With entire families viewing, not simply that 25-45 male demographic considered most precious. Seems the Super Bowl broadcast has found its way to profitability, with kickoff in the late afternoon on a Sunday. Why must World Series games end after midnight in New York City?

My daughters are now old enough (16 and 13) to stay up past bedtime to see a World Series game completed. But their interest is based largely on stories I’ve shared from years their little bodies needed sleep more than the pageantry of the seventh-inning stretch. (I woke up one of my daughters when David Freese delivered his epic game-tying triple for the Cardinals in the 2011 Fall Classic. Bless her heart, she didn’t remember being awoken the next morning.) Keep reading the stories of how baseball is dying, how kids are losing interest in a game that’s “too slow” for the modern attention span. Then check the start times for the sport’s most important, compelling, talked-about games. These are related.

The time has come, ye presidential hopefuls, for National Baseball Day. Consider my vote a free agent, ready to sign.

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Sports Sports Feature

FROM MY SEAT: Pitching a Holiday (Again)

Someday
Major League Baseball will get it. And, importantly, so will the U.S. Congress.
Someday — hopefully in your lifetime, dear reader — the World Series will again
be played under the sun. (For those curious, the last daytime game played during
the Fall Classic was in 1987 . . . and it was under a roof in Minneapolis. The
last time natural shadows were actually cast at the World Series was in 1984.)
The time has long come not only for daytime baseball during the game’s signature
event, but for an actual holiday devoted to our country’s definitive pastime.
Let’s call it National Baseball Day.

For
years, now, I’ve argued that America should take a day off in late October —
midway between Labor Day and Thanksgiving — for a holiday where we can remind
ourselves how integral sports in general, and baseball in particular, have
become in the way we conduct our lives as Americans. I’ve made the case — until
this year — that this holiday should fall on the Wednesday when Game 4 of the
World Series is played. With the MLB powers that be having changed the Series
schedule, the holiday would still fall on a Wednesday, but it would now coincide
with the opening game of the Series. Even better, in my eyes, and an indication
— my fingers firmly crossed — that baseball is, in fact “getting it.”

Why
close schools, government offices, even banks(!) for a lousy baseball game?
Because leisure, friends, is what Americans do . . . and do better than any
other country on the planet. Enjoy Labor Day for what it is, a nod to the hard
work that pays your mortgage, your rent, your car note, those ever-inflating
utility bills. But take National Baseball Day as a reminder that Americans work
not to pay bills, but to play.

These
days, the argument could be made that the NFL and NASCAR have supplanted
baseball as America’s most popular spectator sport. But holidays are earned with
history, folks, and baseball was shaping Americans’ downtime long before Joe
Namath saved professional football or Richard Petty gave us an appreciation for
trading paint. And baseball remains singular in its reflection of our country’s
behavioral trends, from Babe Ruth roaring in the Twenties to Jackie Robinson
knocking down barriers in 1947, from Roberto Clemente adding a Latino flavor in
the Sixties to Ichiro Suzuki turning the sport global, indeed, in 2001.

For
National Baseball Day to happen, the money-making fat cats that run the
television networks will have to put aside their appetite for ad dollars in
favor of a big-picture view of their most critical commodity: fans. The
10-year-old boys and girls going to bed before the fifth inning of World Series
games in the eastern time zone will be the 25-year-old ticket-buying demographic
more familiar with football and stock-car racing — events held largely during
the afternoon! — in just a few years. If baseball and TV want to capture (and
hold) an audience, they should take a lesson from cereal companies and (sadly)
beer distributors: start young. Game 1 of the Series would start at 3 p.m.
eastern time, so every kid from Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon, could
watch every pitch if he or she chooses. (And if you think advertisers will run
from an afternoon sporting event on a weekday, tune in to the NCAA tournament
next March.)

“I don’t
give a whit about baseball,” you say? Have never watched a game, and never will?
That’s fine, too. Take the day and do something — with leisure in mind — that
you couldn’t otherwise on a regular Wednesday. Take your significant other to a
movie. Walk your dog in a new park. And if you have them, make your children
smile with an excursion (if, and only if, they don’t have a team to cheer in the
big game). However it is you catch your wind, just remember that baseball helped
the cause.

More
people bought tickets to Major League Baseball games in 2007 — almost 80 million
— than in any other season in over 120 years. Yes, Americans still love
baseball, still love the World Series. It’s time for baseball — and the World
Series — to love us back.