Biblical scholar and blogger, Ben Witherington, shares my love of baseball. His most recent post captures that love and its spiritual significance.- Steve
Let’s
be honest. The most popular game in America these days is brutal. I’m
talking about the incessantly broadcast game of professional football, a
game, as they say ‘won in the trenches’, a term borrowed from WWI and
the Maginot line. Today instead it is the offensive or defensive line.
Yes, there are thrilling plays in football— elegantly arched passes to
diving receivers, runners weaving their way through traffic heading for
the endzone. But most of the actual play on the football field is not
beautiful. It involves holding, pushing, shoving, tackling, hitting—
especially hitting these days. The game’s name should be changed from
tackle football to hit football. Launching one’s body at another human
being, outside the football field is called assault. It is not
beautiful. It is ugly.
Football, if it is possible, has become
even more of a bloodsport today, than it was when padding was not nearly
so good. It does a good job of feeding our lust for the dramatic, for
a thrill a moment, and our voyeuristic joy in watching someone else
crash and burn. Baseball, except for the occasional collision on the
base paths or at home plate is not about players smashing up other
players. It’s about beauty, and it’s about life and what is good in
human striving.
If you have not been under a rock, and have
watched this truly memorable World Series between the Cardinals and
Rangers, you will see lots of amazing individual and team achievements.
Say, Albert Pujols’ three monster home runs in Arlington which
conjured up images of Mr. October, Reggie Jackson. Or say the hometown
boy David Freese made good, almost single-handedly staving off
elimination in Game Six when the Cardinals were down to their last
strike, twice. Or watching a guy built like a lineman, a catcher named
Napoli, time and again lift his team with his bat or throws as the
crowd chanted Napoli, Napoli, Napoli.
The problem with football,
especially college football, is that with one loss even at the beginning
of the season, you can be out of the championship hunt. That, frankly,
is not merely a buzzkill, its cruel. Contrast that to baseball.
The
St. Louis Cardinals, for a great deal of the season were not very good.
Indeed, on Sept. 1, they were so far behind in the wildcard race, they
weren’t even in anybody’s rear view mirror. And even after 161 games,
the issue was not settled as to who would be the wild card team. It
turned out to be….wait for it….. the Wild Cards.
Baseball was and
is about redemption after losses, even devastating losses. It’s the
game that is most like life. It is a game of children played by adults.
In what other sport can you get a hit only one try out of three,
failing two thirds of the time, and end up in a Hall of Fame? None.
None that I know of. Thank goodness life is more like baseball than
football. In what other sport can you fail magnificently, completely,
repeatedly, in double digits, and still go on to win a world
championship?
In an age of individualism, and rampant narcissism,
baseball remains a team sport. There are some baseball players, even
today, who have exactly one specialized skill. They don’t look like
athletes, they can’t run like athletes, they would never make even a
semi-pro team in other sports. But there they are, playing professional
baseball. I’m talking about players like Darren Oliver. A big man
who has played in the majors twenty years. What does he do? He is a
relief pitcher who comes in, usually to get exactly one or two hitters
out. That’s it. Or take one of my favorites– Eric Hinske. He can’t
run worth a darn. His fielding is no better than mine. But put him in
as a pinch hitter when the chips are down— and watch him hit yet another
miracle home run in the clutch. That’s beautiful.
Most of us
cannot identify with transcendent athletes like a Michael Jordan or a
Deion Sanders, or an Albert Pujols. They are way beyond our reach or
pay grade. But if you love baseball, you can dream of being little Ryan
Theriot, a good fielder. Or an Eric Hinske. The thing about baseball
is it really does confirm to you that even the ordinary person under
extraordinary circumstances can do the extraordinary, can transcend the
mundane and shine for a moment.
Finish reading ....
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