On Sunday night, I had several loud yelling fits. I had moments of frozen silence when I could hear my own heartbeat. My fingers flew as I texted my loved ones at home in New York, seeing if everything was okay.
Sunday night, the Yankees were in Boston. They faced off against the Red Sox in one of the most exciting games of the season. Curt Schilling and Roger Clemens brought the most combined wins to a matchup in the history of Fenway Park, and both spun gems. Yankees captain Derek Jeter launched a towering, two-out, three-run homer in the eighth inning off Schilling to give the Bombers a 4-1 lead. The BoSox crawled back. There were two outs, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, the score 4-3 and the best closer of all time on the mound. David Ortiz, one of the most feared hitters in baseball, was at the plate. My heart is racing just remembering the scene.
And yet, when I ask most Brown students if they follow baseball, they say, "Nah. It's too boring."
BORING?! Seriously? As a lifelong baseball fan, the concept is difficult for me to grasp. So I try to think, objectively ... why do I love baseball? What makes it exciting? What is all the fuss about?
The first thing that comes to mind is the social benefits. When I meet someone from Boston, I've got a great ice-breaker right away: "Hey, can you lend me a hand? I can't hold all my 26 rings..." I have an instant connection with baseball fans from around the country, especially from Boston. Regardless of how much they may despise my team, we've got hours of conversation material. Plus, my feverish dedication to the Yanks gives me a community of thousands of friends whom I've never met.
Going to Yankee Stadium is like attending a party where I know everyone there and where they all give me high fives. And that feeling you get as you walk through the tunnel to your seats and see the stadium grass peeking above the concrete ... it's pretty special.
Then there's the game itself. What makes it so riveting? Baseball is a thinking fan's game. I like that after each pitch, I've got about 10 seconds to talk about the pitch, the game or baseball in general. It's fun to watch because it doesn't require focus 100 percent of the time. You can casually watch a game and not miss anything crucial. However, if you want to watch the game and analyze every pitch, you'll be entranced by the amount of strategy and athleticism that goes into every second of a baseball game. If you've never done this - really studied a few minutes of a baseball game, as if it were a Hitchcock film - give it a shot. Listen to the color commentary, guess what the hitter is trying to do and understand that baseball is just "a lot of standing around" in the same way that a Monet painting is "just" a bunch of lilies floating in a pond.
Baseball distinguishes itself from other sports through its complexity. In basketball, there's always one purpose: Put the ball in the hoop, or stop the other team from doing so. In hockey, it's the same thing ... on ice. The different strategies and methods of winning a baseball game give managers a broad and exciting set of options. Let's say the offense has a runner on first. What do they do? Bunt him over? Steal? Hit-and-run? Try to force a walk? Hope for a base hit? The excitement often lies in those frequent pauses, as the pitcher stares down the batter. Baseball always keeps you guessing.
As Woody Allen once said, "I love baseball. You know it doesn't have to mean anything, it's just beautiful to watch." Baseball is my childhood, my hobby and my love. I hope you can learn to love it, too.
Ellis Rochelson '09 also loves his family.
