Mixed Moss

Alex recently posted about culture; and in his post he mentioned soccer quite incidentally. But he got me thinking about sports and how we grow up with them, and here is my response.

It’s an interesting insight that imprinting happens before the age of seven. I couldn’t care less about American football, and I am only beginning to get interested in soccer. The sport that I can’t do without is baseball.

My dad, despite playing football when he was in high school, never took me to any football games. But from an early age he took me to baseball games every summer. The result? Each year at the start of Spring Training I watch A League of Their Own and Sandlot; and summer isn’t summer until I’ve been to a baseball game. It could be a local youth league, or the Cincinnati Reds, doesn’t matter to me; but I’ve got to get out there and enjoy the experience. The sultry Cincinnati summer evening, humidity hanging so thick in the river valley you can see it and almost taste it; the roar of the fans; a Kahn’s hot dog in my hand– the only time I ever eat hotdogs, which I consider to be suspect; and the beautiful arc of a snowy white ball against the green of the field or the blue of the sky, depending on how high up in the stands you are of course.

Say what you like about other sports, there is none so elegant as baseball. Everything about it is beautiful, from the line of red dirt on green turf to the crisp white pants of the players to the geometry of base, bat, and ball. You don’t count down time on a clock. You count up innings, each one a noble achievement of gentlemen. So as fun as the world cup may be to watch, take me out to the ball game.

This entry was posted on Saturday, January 6th, 2007 at 12:34 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.