Another historical tale from the Couch
by Bill Ribas
Well, it depends upon your perspective. There are certainly games that matter very little, games late in the season by teams so far under .500 that it makes you wonder why they are even televised. Yet at the same time, those very games can matter so much, as a team shows its integrity, either as a spoiler, or as a team showing just what it can do. There are also performances by individuals that go far and beyond what any of us couch jockeys could ever hope to emulate. Is it possible that a stellar performance could be overlooked, or seen as boring? Of course it is, because I have lived it, and here is the story.
Let’s first start with a little backstory. In 1969, my family relocated from Rochester, NY, to Weston, CT. My dad worked for Xerox, and they had an office in Stamford, if you’re keeping score. Anyway, one day in April of 1970, we all trek into Queens to see the Mets play. Why the Mets and not the Yanks? I don’t know. I know my mom is a fan of the Mets, at least today she is, but I don’t know why back then. I’m guessing maybe because on the heels of winning the series the year before the Mets were a hot ticket, maybe my dad got the tickets cheap from a friend at work, who knows (he’s dead, so I can’t ask him). In any event, it’s April, and we’re in the stands along the 3rd base side, way up, the planes flying overhead as they leave LaGuardia. I was 9 years old.
Now, in order to get a proper perspective on why I was bored out of my gourd at this game, you have to remember what it’s like to be young and a baseball fan, or at least a quasi-fan, to be stuck with your parents at a major league park. Ask yourself, if you were 9, what would you want to see? A home run for sure. A double at least, maybe a triple. A lot of hits, a lot of action, right? And yet none of that happened. And for years, our dad would always complain how my brother and I were just not interested in the game at all, seemed distracted, disinterested, whatever. And can you blame us? Not much happened at all.
If you look at the scorecard to the left, you’ll start to get an idea of why at least I was bored out of my skull. The Padres managed a home run and a single. Oh, and a walk. Which means that out of 27 potential hitters, only two connected. That’s right, just two. So imagine, you’re 9, in a big league park, and there’s not much in the way of hitting going on. The Mets weren’t much more of a powerhouse, with a few singles, a double, a triple and a few walks. Can you imagine? If you’re of the age where you have kids, you can understand, that with nothing going on at the field level, that your kids would be climbing the seats to get out of there and find some action. It wouldn’t matter if you parents had brought you into the big city to see a game, it wouldn’t matter what the hot dogs tasted like, or if the ice cream was sweet. Quite simply, with no hitting going on to speak of, it would be excruciatingly painful. This game is boring, there is nothing happening.
And this is why I say, and you understand, that baseball can be at times boring, or for a kid, tediously and insufferably boring. Which brings us to a rather interesting point. You see, a young Tom Seaver was pitching that day, and if you peruse the scorecard, you’ll see he posted a few strikeouts. And by a few I mean 19. And if you take an even closer look, you’ll see that he fanned the last 10 batters. You heard me. From the last out of the sixth inning through the end of the game, all the Padres went down swinging. And this is what drives me nuts, and will continue to drive me nuts until I croak. I was at a game where Tom Seaver gave perhaps the performance of his life, and I was bored. I’m not ashamed to admit it either, because I was young, and for me, wanting to see hits and homers and all, there was nothing. A hitter gets up, he goes down. Wash, rinse, repeat.
Perhaps one of the most tragic aspects of this game is that I don’t believe it was televised, and so no film (as far as I know) of the game exists. And as memories go, well, 9 year old memories are sketchy at best, and details are on the light side. I remember being colder in the afternoon as the sun shifted and the shadows drifted across the field, yet other than that, my main recollection is the oft repeated word here, and that is boring. And like I said, every time I say that I shudder, knowing that although I was disinterested to say the least, here was a game that was calling for cherished memories, and I have very little to show. I mean, it’s easy to see why my brother, just a year and a half older than me, and I were bored, given the dearth of hits. I mean, if I saw a game like this now, I’d bronze my ticket, steal a wad of earth from the park, and think about how I could make some money on ebay selling game related stuff (a bag of peanuts from the big game, just $50!).
But life is funny, and for me, the greatest game I ever witnessed was one I can barely remember, one where the lumber was for the most part silent, and one where I remember more the shifting shadows of Shea (how’s that for alliteration?) more than the sizzling pop of the ball as it found home in the catcher’s mitt. What I know is that it was possibly the greatest game Tom Seaver had in his career, and I was there, but more interested in finding some amusement in the seats around me than in what was going on at field level.
If there’s a moral to the story, I’m not sure what it is. If you take your kids to the ballpark, make sure there are a lot of hits? No way you can guarantee that. Maybe my dad was trying to impress us all by scoring tickets to see the champions of ’69 at home. Maybe he was just being a good dad, who knows. I do know he was always pissed at us after that game, because of the way we clowned around and didn’t pay any interest to what was (or wasn’t ) going on on the field. I suppose he has the last laugh too, because he did realize what was going on. He was a math wiz, and I remember going to a Red Wings game at Silver shortly before his death, and how he would be calculating batting averages in his head on the fly throughout the game. He knew what Seaver had done, and he had witnessed it. I had witnessed it too, but didn’t know until years later what Seaver had done.
I guess the only moral of the story is you never know what to expect when you go to a baseball game, so keep your eyes and ears open. Now, as I help my mom prepare to leave her house and go to an old folks home, I find souvenirs like this program from a galaxy far far away. It is a bittersweet find, tinged with nostalgia, with history, and with a voice saying “Doh!” in my head for not paying closer attention. But hey, like I said, I was 9. Cut a kid some slack, will ya?
Baseball is always tough to watch as a kid, i started gaining respect for watching the game around age 10, and have been in love since. I used to always want to see the home runs, and big hits, but now i prefer a pitchers duel, a classic of some sorts. Maybe like the Yankees vs Red Sox extravaganza last August, which the game was tied at 0 until an A-Rod walk off in the 14th. Those are the games i long for.
Baseball. It’s not boring … it’s just slower than some of the other sports. But my dad was a serious beer league 16″ softball player in Chicago … where mitts weren’t allowed and the ball was just as hard as a baseball … no kidding. I started going to his games when I was 4 or 5 and then he taught me how to play baseball and I’ve loved the game ever since. I truly believe that when you play the game, you’ll always have a greater appreciation of it than those that didn’t play.
I will never forget going to my first big league game in 1970 … a White Sox night game at the old Comiskey Park. Approaching the stadium on the Dan Ryan Expy, it was lit up like the palace at Disney World. Entering the park, the combined aroma of beer, peanuts, hot dogs and cigar smoke was quite unique, and then for the first time emerging from underneath the grandstands to see the actual playing field …. WOW … grass so green and perfectly manicured … lights so bright … players looked huge! At that point, I was hooked for life … and wanted more than anyhting else to someday be a big leaguer myself. Well … that didn’t happen obviously … but my love for the game goes on and on.
Well … some will say that baeball is no longer the “national pasttime” … maybe football has taken over that title … maybe not. But for me, baseball is at the very least the “summer pasttime” …. there’s nothing like sitting at the ballpark to de-stress and relax. I love the fact that teams play 6 games every week … it marks the passing of summer and keep me interested. If my team lost today, well they have a chance to right the ship tomorrow. If they won … can’t wait to continue the streak tomorrow. And when not at the park, baseball on the radio or TV is my companion … a great companion to have when doing chores around the house or running errands.
It might be boring to some … and slower than other sports … but I love the pace of the game … and of the season. And in today’s hectic world … we need something like that!
Bill — thanks for the post and making us think about this !
If you ask me, watching baseball at home can be a tough thing to do. I do find joy in doing stuff around the house and listening to a game. Seems to make the chores go that much quicker. But at the ballpark? I am with Wally – I don’t think there are too many places in the world that are better.
Besides going to Red Wings game, my first game in the majors ( I got the call up around the age of 7 or 8) in Toronto. It was April and it was the Blue Jays against the Milwaukee Brewers – when the Brewers were in the American League. I am not sure who thought an April baseball game at Old Exhibition Stadium was a good idea, but I remember my brother and I being incredibly fired up for the game. Rollie Fingers, Robin Yount, Paul Molitor, Lloyd Moseby, etc.. – the list went on and on. We had their baseball cards and now we were going to see them in person. It got so cold that I believe my parents wanted to leave. Did we go? Heck no.. We stuck it out just to see if Rollie Fingers would pitch. He didn’t disappoint.
I agree with Wally. Very few things in this world slow down to a normal pace. One of them is being at the ballpark – the other is being on a golf course.
Bill,
You were in attendance when Seaver fanned 19? That fact in and of itself elevates you to legendary status. And that’s not even considering the riff to “Love Me, Need Me.” 🙂
I am a fair-weathered fan in the literal sense of the term. So when you talk about being uncomfortable at an April baseball game in New York, I understand. When I left work Tuesday, and it was raining, I decided at that point I was NOT venturing to Frontier Field to see Stephen Strasburg.
Our microwave society makes it difficult to understand and appreciate many of the nuances of baseball and for that matter any professional sport. Kids are going to be uncomfortable at anything that requires an attention span. Does that mean we have to make the sport into entertainment? Isn’t it already entertaining? Madison Ave. execs have created all of these gimmicks to increase the revenue streams. That doesn’t improve the game.
Baseball, like any sport, is better live. There is only only so much a tv camera can capture.
I am with Mark about the pitcher’s duel in the game of baseball. Despite the outcome, I, too, enjoyed that Yankees – Sox game decided in extra innings.
I admit that there is something ethereal about a stadium, and the game, by its nature, enhances relaxation. There is nothing like being at a ballpark, unless, of course, you’re a kid, with a short attention span, and would rather be elsewhere.
As for this story, I can never tell it right, never get the sarcasm down, never get the importance of the game across. I imagine some sort of hellish ride there, probably in my dad’s vega (I doubt we took the train, but I can ask my mom). And just like National Lampoon’s vacation, I am sure that was an interesting ride. My guess is we were getting yelled at all the way there because we were excited, and yelled at on the way home because we didn’t pay enough attention to the game. The weird thing is I scored it (at least it looks like my handwriting), so we must have been paying some attention, but, like any parent knows, not enough.
Anyway, I wrote to Citifield to see if they want it for a display or whatever. It’s a weird feeling, having a really important piece of history, but no real solid connection to it.
I think all sports are boring to a certain extent and as Wally said, we’re more attuned to the ones we’ve played. But baseball has that defensive nuance about it that no other sport has. The defense actually controls the ball; not the case in other sports. So a truly great game can go to the defense. IN other sports, we can say the offense didn’t come through. But if a pitcher fans 19, fielders make diving stops, you have to credit the D.
It certainly didn’t help that you were 9, but I can see myself not catching on enough at a bseball game to realize what is happening in order to witness the whole thing. I’d probably only catch on after the jumbotron conveniently updates me that “Tom Seaver has now struck out the last 6 batters.” Then I’d perk up.
I attend an MLB game every summer and always fear that defensive game. This makes me realize that perhaps my priorities are backwards. Maybe I’ll catch a game someday like you did, Bill. Only it’ll be my daughter crawling over the seats distracting me.
I see what you’re talking about, Bill. Just got done watching the Phillies beat the Marlins 1-0 and NO ONE from the Marlins even got on base. Geez! Glad I wasn’t attending that snoozer!
🙂