The Boys of Summer Return

What does baseball mean to me?  That's what I asked myself when I saw the baseball supplement to our local paper with the headline, "The Boys of Summer Return."   

Baseball means:

• The crack of the bat against the ball
• The roar of the crowd when  a player hits a home run
• Keeping score on a paper with boxes and slots for players' names
• Savoring a ballpark hot dog 
• Squinting from the sun in your eyes

These are some general aspects of baseball, and I'm sure each person who has been to a  game has different memories and favorites.  I'm not a big baseball fan and don't get to games much these days, but baseball has a history in my family which I cherish.

I grew up in and near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, so the Phillies were - and still are - our team of choice.  There was never any question of any family member's loyalty for almost any Philly team.  This tradition lives on today in the fourth generation since I've been alive - from my grandmother (my father's mother), my father, my brother, and his second son, who  goes to college at Temple, in the heart of Phillies country.   I've followed a few other teams when living outside the "Philly zone," being swept along by local tradition and pride, but none that have stuck like my preference for the team that was part of my family blood, always present, never doubted.    Even though our team has had its ups and downs of late (more downs than ups), I always start the season with the hope that the Phillies will win the pennant and maybe even go on to the World Series.  

Baseball was a fixture in my family, one of the few things that we shared with my father's widowed grandmother and her unmarried sister, who lived together in a country town northwest of Philly.   We visited them infrequently, for Thanksgiving mostly.  My grandmother was a great cook and  served up all the trimmings for the rare times her only child and his family visited.   

Mike Schmidt, 3rd Basemen, Phillies

In spite of the fact that by the early 60s most households had televisions and the games were beginning to be televised locally, my grandmother and aunt preferred to listen to the games on the radio.  I guess it was habit from the days before television brought the game to your eyes as well as ears.  When we visited during baseball season, it was common for the adults to talk and listen to the Phillies game on the radio in the kitchen, while we kids watched TV in the back bedroom.   

I once went to a Phillies game with my Aunt Francis (we called her Fran).   I remember it was cold, so we huddled together to keep warm.  It was a special outing for me, to be alone with an adult in the evening, and it might have been a school night too.   Our school participated in a "Straight A Ticket" program in which you could earn free tickets if you got all "As" during a certain period.   I think we were using tickets I had earned with my grades for the game that night.  I still have one of those Straight A cards in a scrapbook.  It gave me a certain pride to be able to contribute toward our family's leisure activity in this way.

I love baseball for its slowness, which frustrates many people.   The pace makes the game seem more like an outing you settle into with time, a "past time" as the sport is called.   When you're at the ballpark, you sit down in your seat, survey your view, and relax as you feel the promise of time and entertainment stretched out before you.  I always liked to look at the listing of the team line-ups in the program .   And of course, I had to have a hot dog, with that distinctive "ballpark"taste.

In baseball, there's a certain tension, a waiting for exciting things to happen, perhaps even the unexpected.   And there's also the longing for your favorite player to continue his hitting streak or, if he's been in a slump, to send the ball out of the park and get back to his winning ways.   There are the pitchers, the commanders of the field, who wow us with their speed and control, or frustrate us with their inconsistency.  Phillies' fans are notorious for their "fair weather" rooting, but to me being in the ballpark is the win, a special experience not often enjoyed.  

To me, baseball is one part boredom, two parts what you make of it.  Whether it's a romantic connection to the game, as seen in several movies featuring baseball as a major character - Bull Durham, Field of Dreams, A League of their Own, or The Natural - or a character-driven performance starring your heroes and the challenges they face on the field, or simply an escape from the daily routine for a few hours, the sport is special.  Baseball gives you the outdoors and  camaraderie with family, friends, and fellow fans.  With each game, as you breathe the air and  root for your favorites, you recapture that spirit of long ago when life was simpler and more straightforward.  After all, how much more basic is "Three strikes and you're out" at the "Old Ball Game".

I hope I can make it to a baseball game again soon, and I encourage you to get some tickets to watch the boys of summer create that special magic with a bat, a ball, and a dream.